


Black As Is The Raven, He’ll Get A Partner

by nekojita



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: AU, Bee and Andrew bonding, Bee is there for her adopted son, F/M, Homophobic Language, I mean A LOT OF PINING, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, It's going to be Dark, Jack and Sheena show up so be prepared for that, Jean is so done with everyone, M/M, Minor Character Death, More relationships to be added later - Freeform, Neil and Jean are bros, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Raven!Neil, Something a bit different, but he get Jeremy, characters outed, dealing with bad things, deep dive in the Ravens, dubious dating advice, lot of pining going on, more tags to be added later, neil in protective mode, not all of it is bad there, seriously, slow burn doesn't begin to describe this, taking a close look at the Nest, there's going to be some misunderstandings to overcome, this is really really really slow burn, though a lot is
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2018-12-14 23:00:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 31
Words: 622,061
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11793270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nekojita/pseuds/nekojita
Summary: When Wymack, Kevin and Andrew came to recruit Neil Josten in Millport, Neil decided to say 'no' instead of 'yes' to joining the Foxes and does what he does best, which is runs. Unfortunately, that brings him to the attention of the Moriyamas, who return him to to his 'rightful' place.Now Neil has to learn how to survive at the Nest with his only ally another 'asset' long kept under Riko's heel.





	1. Breakdown

**Author's Note:**

> *******  
> Okay, so I basically didn't want to do a Raven!Neil story unless I thought I could come up with something a little different - there's so many really good ones out there already. This is the result, and yes, there's a few warnings/comments. Really, it is a SLOW BURN - it's tagged andreil but it's going to be endgame and it's going to take a LONG TIME to get to that endgame. There will be some twists and turns before then.
> 
> As it's a Ravens story, there's some trigger warnings. As befits the books, there will be violence (nothing outside of the books) and per the backstory canon non-con situations (there's some in the last few lines of this chapter), but nothing explicit. Feel free to reach out to me on tumblr (nekojitachan) for any questions, but again, it won't be explicit.  
> *******

*******

Wymack pulled up to the Fox Tower and gave a bleary-eyed Kevin a sympathetic look. “Hernandez said he’d work on the kid, would talk to him some more on Monday. I’m not giving up, either.”

Andrew scoffed at that, because he was more than a little familiar with lost causes and Josten? Among many other things, that kid had ‘lost cause’ written all over him, along with ‘trouble’ and ‘rabbit’ and ‘better off forgotten’. He hadn’t missed how the kid had looked at Kevin, the expression almost one of hunger, and he was oh so pleased that the kid had turned down the mighty Day even if it had meant that he’d flown out to Arizona and back for nothing more than seeing a certain arrogant coward shot down in flames.

Kevin slumped even more in the passenger seat, for once incapacitated due to a lack of sleep and not alcohol, his favorite crutch, before he managed to speak. “He’s the best candidate out of a pathetic lot,” he mumbled, ever the cheerful bastard. “We need him if this team has any chance of being something.”

Wymack gave him a sour look as he glanced back at Andrew. “We’re going to crash for a few hours and then head over to the stadium to look through the rest of that ‘pathetic lot’ just in case Josten doesn’t come through,” he informed Andrew, well aware of how Andrew insisted on keeping track of Kevin. He ignored the rude gesture he received for ruining Andrew’s entire weekend while he climbed out of the car while Kevin nodded before they drove off.

Andrew hitched his bag higher up on his shoulder as he entered the Tower, annoyed with wasting a perfectly fine Friday night flying out to bumfuck nowhere in Arizona to see a twitchy rabbit refuse Kevin (actually, that part had almost made it worth it), to put up with Kevin’s bitching at being turned down by a ‘no-name amateur’ who didn’t understand the great ‘honor’ being bestowed on him, blah blah _blah_ , and have his meds be all fucked up by the time change and now be stuck on campus all weekend.

For once, Andrew was looking forward to practice on Monday, just so he could throw some fucking balls at Kevin fucking Day’s Exy-obsessed head. Hmm, perhaps he could start in the locker room, before the coward put on his helmet and gear. His fingers itched to grab something and start throwing things immediately, but he forced himself to ignore the sensation and crawl into his bed, his brother and cousin still dead asleep in their own.

Aaron and Nicky were just as displeased to find out that there was no going to Columbia that night, no Sweetie’s and no Eden’s Twilight, no cracker dust and clubbing, but at least they could stay in the damn dorm suite and drink while Andrew was stuck sprawled out on the couch in the stadium while Wymack and Kevin fought over the next candidate on the ‘just in case’ list, between a girl in Houston and a guy in Minneapolis.

Andrew stroked his right hand along his left armband and fought the urge to go slice apart all of the racquets just to give himself something to do – too much effort in the end. He should have brought a book, dammit, and was about to get up to go pick the lock to Abby’s office when Kevin came storming out of Wymack’s.

“Ah yes, the age old negotiating tactic of the hissy fit, how mature, Day.” Andrew sat up to applaud the coward as Kevin stomped past him, face flushed with anger.

“Fuck you!”

And someone had just offered to walk back to Wymack’s apartment, hadn’t they? Andrew hummed as he trailed along to the exit, while Wymack stood in the doorway of his office muttering about stubborn jackasses.

It stirred a glimmer of true amusement to see the expression on Kevin’s face when Andrew started the car without him in it and drove off, and kept it just out of reach for a couple of blocks through campus. “Never talk to me that way again,” he warned when he finally did let the asshole into the car.

Sweaty from the heat and the humidity, Kevin merely gazed at him for a couple of seconds before grunting in agreement then slumping down in the seat.

The next day was much of the same, except that time Andrew brought something to read and Wymack threw Kevin out after a few hours of them arguing. If by some chance Josten _did_ change his mind, Andrew was going to ensure that the kid repaid him for putting up with all of this shit.

 _After_ he found out why the hell Josten had acted the way he did back in Millport, why he screamed ‘huge risk’ and turned Kevin down while looking at him like that, why his first impression had been to run upon meeting Wymack. The kid was a puzzle, and him refusing a scholarship to a sport he loved (according to Kevin, in order for him to play like that)?

Puzzles bothered Andrew, they got under his skin and wouldn’t leave him alone until they were solved. He’d solve Josten, the sooner the better because unanswered questions were annoying.

Something else that was annoying was practicing for Exy, come Monday (no thrown balls in the locker room, damn it). They were changing into their gear when Gordon came strolling in looking worse for wear, probably from a weekend spent drugging and drinking with Arnolds and friends since it was an ‘off’ week with Reynolds (according to Renee during their practice on Sunday after Andrew had dropped Kevin off at Wymack’s apartment).

“So what, how was Nevada or Utah or wherever the fuck you went to get us the piece of shit striker?” Gordon asked as he pulled his ratty t-shirt over his head. When Kevin didn’t say anything, Gordon paused in reaching into his locker for his gear. “What? You guys went there, got out of practice early and everything to make the flight.” When Kevin grabbed his helmet and slammed his locker shut, Gordon raised his eyebrows over that reaction. “You get shot down or something?” His eyes grew wide when Kevin stomped out of the locker room. “Wait, no _shit_? Someone told the _great_ Kevin Day ‘no’?” He smirked at Andrew as if actually expecting an answer. “Tell me you filmed it! I wanna watch it on loop for hours!”

Even though he agreed with the asshole, Andrew merely returned a blank look while ever talkative Nicky gave out an explanation, even to an asshole he detested. “From what I understand, as soon as the poor kid realized that he would be on the same team as you, he decided to give up playing Exy all-together.”

Gordon was quiet for a moment before he gave Nicky the finger, which was along the lines of their usual style of communication, his thick brows drawn together in anger. “Fuck you, you faggot. Don’t blame the no-talent kid for not wanting to join this team of rejects, especially after meeting your thug of a cousin and the prick over there.” Then he muttered curses into his locker as he yanked on his uniform.

Oh, how sad, one of Andrew’s teammates was upset with them – Andrew would wait for the wellspring of sorrow and remorse, but concrete and steel didn’t last that long and would come tumbling, tumbling down around him at some point during his bout of introspection. That and Wymack’s dulcet tones beckoned the man’s beloved ‘lazy worms’ to get their asses out onto the court.

Hmm, perhaps Wednesday’s topic with Bee would be of Sartre’s insightful belief that hell indeed was other people, and how Andrew appeared to be wallowing in an unknown ring of it at the moment.

That theory was strengthened by Wymack informing Kevin and Andrew after practice that both the university’s athletic board and the ERC were after him to find another striker quickly, so they could only wait until the end of the week for Josten to change his mind. That meant a return trip out to ‘lovely’ Millport on Friday if Hernandez didn’t convince the kid by then (Andrew suggested a little light waterboarding, but no one ever listened to him for some reason), and then off to Minneapolis on Saturday if the rabbit proved stubborn (meaning flighty) – it seemed Kevin had won out in the end.

“I’m not flying all over just so you have a new toy to play with,” Andrew cautioned as he followed Kevin into the showers; he’d gone along without _too_ much complaint the first time because Kevin had been so certain that Josten would say ‘yes’, that anyone who played with such desperation, with ‘everything to lose’ would jump at the chance to sign with a bunch of rejects like the Foxes. Hmm, someone had been wrong, hadn’t they?

“I won’t leave until I get him to say ‘yes’.” There was that look on Kevin’s face as he spoke, the one he got during practice, when he’d told Andrew that he _would_ play again, that he’d give Andrew something to live for once Andrew came off the meds. That he got when he told Andrew that he could be a professional Exy player if he just gave a damn. Hmm, delusion, such a wonderful thing. Though Kevin could surprise one, he had to admit. Maybe he would surprise everyone by making Neil Josten change his mind.

Andrew wasn’t certain he liked that idea, not when the kid rubbed him the wrong way.

Not that he got a chance to worry about it, in the end. By Tuesday it was out on most of the NCAA Exy forums that the Foxes had attempted to recruit an unknown striker from some tiny rural high school that didn’t even make it to the state championships, who had only played for one season, who had _turned them down_. Some of the commenters were crowing over that fact, a player turning down _Kevin Day_ , turning down the Foxes because they were the laughing stock of the NCAA, while others posted that it only showed how desperate PSU must be to go after such a raw player.

Andrew had to admit, some of them had a point.

What had Wymack ranting and raving (along with Kevin) was that the news _never should have leaked_. Wymack hadn’t told anyone other than the Foxes and Abby who it was he’d gone to recruit, and Andrew doubted that Hernandez had said anything since Wymack had asked him to keep it quiet. Andrew also doubted that Josten had opened his mouth, not when the kid had been acting so dodgy about stuff. So that left the rest of the Foxes, who knew that Wymack hadn’t wanting anything to get out because he was going after someone so unorthodox – that and all the shit that had happened after the news that Kevin had come to PSU.

Correction, that left one Fox in particular, since Wilds wouldn’t disobey her precious ‘Coach’, Boyd wouldn’t go against Wilds, Renee would never do such a thing, and Reynolds… well, she couldn’t be bothered. No, there was just one other active player left, one who hadn’t been pleased about Josten in the first place, and one only too happy about anything that made Kevin look bad.

Unfortunately, Boyd stepped in before Andrew could do more than slam Gordon into the lockers and split his lips with the force of the hit, and Wymack kept the asshole in his office for the rest of the practice session while Andrew sat it out on the bench. The damage was already done.

Hernandez called on Wednesday evening to say that Josten hadn’t shown up for school, that he’d freaked over the news getting out about the Foxes trying to recruit him but he wouldn’t talk to Hernandez about anything.

The kid didn’t show up on Thursday, either, and Hernandez discovered that he didn’t have a real address for him or a working phone number for his parents. That there was no way to contact the kid. Andrew felt a faint smugness at being proven right, at having his suspicions confirmed, while Wymack cursed and Kevin began having panic attacks.

There was no point in going to Millport on Friday when Hernandez told them there was still no sign of Josten (whoever he was), so they changed their flight to Minneapolis, left with no alternative but to move on if they wanted to sign someone for the next season. Andrew spared one last thought for the kid as he prepared for another damn flight, annoyed at having to fly, at having to leave his armbands behind, at having to deal with a sulking Kevin upset at being deprived of his first choice, and annoyed at being stuck with a mystery about the vanishing ‘rabbit’.

Ah well, it wasn’t like he would see the kid again, so one less thing to worry about.

********

Neil cursed himself for being stupid, so _stupid_. He should have listened to his mother, should have kept running, should never have stopped and stayed in one place for so long. Should _never_ have played Exy. And what had he done? He’d stayed in Millport for way too long, long enough for Hernandez to notice things about him. He’d joined the damn Exy team, something his mother would have beaten him black and blue for doing, and been recruited by an NCAA team.

By an NCAA team with _Kevin Day_ on it.

He curled up in his seat on the Greyhound bus a little more as a sharp pain went through his chest at that thought, at the reminder of seeing Kevin, and it wasn’t just because of the lingering bruises from being hit by his own racquet thanks to Andrew fucking Minyard. If there was one thing that had gone right last Friday, it was that Kevin hadn’t recognized him, thanks to almost eight years and him altering his appearance, but no matter how much he’d wanted to say ‘yes’, to grasp a tenuous chance at some sort of the future… he hadn’t been able to get his mother’s voice out of his head in the end.

His fingers itched to pull out the packet of cigarettes from the duffle bag draped across his lap, but he couldn’t smoke on the bus. Perhaps when they got to El Paso and he switched buses or tried hitchhiking for a while, when he changed his hair color yet again to throw off anyone following him (he couldn’t risk anyone noticing him, not after seeing his latest name all over the internet. Not after having people who had ignored him all year long come up to him and talk to him as if they _knew_ him). 

He’d done everything he could to stay unnoticed, to take on a new position, to stay in a small enough town, to play on a team not quite good enough. To allow himself the one thing he enjoyed the most for a brief time before he moved on again, before he left it all behind. To give himself a chance to rest and recover after California and that night by the ocean and the acrid tang of smoke clinging to the back of his throat.

He’d learned his lesson – no more weakness. No more deviation from his mother’s rules. There was a contact in Monterrey whom he could use for a new ID, then he would stay in Mexico for a while and see if he had any better luck there than in North America. If not, maybe try Russia…

Dammit, why had Hernandez sent those games to Wymack? Why did the man have to interfere?

Once in El Paso, Neil lightened his hair some more and switched out his clothes, and managed to hitch a ride with a truck driver by using a story about an asshole roommate leaving him stranded and him not wanting to ask his parents for money since they had enough financial troubles at the moment with his sick grandmother. That got him as far as Fort Stockton, where he once more hopped on a bus that would take him to San Antonio. He figured he’d hitchhike the rest of the way to confuse anyone following him, and was just looking for a suitable place to grab some supplies as well as pick up a ride when they caught up to him.

All he knew was that there were two of them, one of them an Asian man and both well-dressed, and they must have paid off the guy in the convenience store because they had no problem walking up to him and tasing him in the back when he tried to run away. He had faint memories of being hauled around, and then nothing.

He woke up in the back of an SUV with tinted windows with his hands bound by not one but several plastic ties. One tie he could manage, but several? That would take some effort, and considering that there were two large gentlemen sitting on either side of him and two more in the front of the vehicle, somehow he doubted that was something he could manage without their notice. He cleared his throat and attempted to speak, but the man on his left – he thought it might be the same Asian man from the convenience store – held up the taser in an obvious warning.

“You’ll be quiet,” he said.

Neil didn’t see the point in arguing, not when he figured they were taking him to his father’s house for the Malcolms or DiMaccio to deal with him. So he slumped down and did his best to save his energy for later, at least for a little longer, until he began to squirm. When the taser came out again, he motioned to his crotch, his face flushed with embarrassment. “Uhm, bathroom?”

The SUV pulled over and both men got out so he could take a piss by the side of the road; as much as he’d love to try to run, it didn’t make sense when there was a taser in the small of his back at all times and a gun pointed at him from two feet away. He didn’t recognize the men, which wasn’t unusual, but they were rather calm for his father’s people, calm and quiet. That worried him, because calm and quiet didn’t give him much to work with at all.

One of them handed him a bottle of water when they were back in the SUV, and when they stopped for gas he was given some sort of breakfast sandwich as well. It was clear that they were determined to drive straight through to somewhere, and as long as Neil was quiet and cooperative, he was allowed to remain conscious. Judging from the highway signs and all, they were headed northeast.

Neil felt his heart speed up when he realized that they were going to West Virginia, especially when he saw the signs for Edgar Allan. Why there and not Baltimore? His father was still in prison, right? It didn’t make sense.

They arrived at the campus in late afternoon, with the SUV pulling right up to the huge black Exy stadium he could still remember so well from his childhood. The men rushed Neil inside; they knew the necessary codes to grant them access and the one or two guards stationed nearby ignored their presence. Neil could hear what sounded to be practice out on the court, but he was dragged along to the East Tower. He had to struggle to breathe and even walk properly as he remembered the last time he was up in that tower, at what his father had done to the man with an ax, but the two men holding onto his bound arms had no problem with his weight.

It felt like a torturous eternity, the ride up to the top floor of the East Wing, felt like the walls of the elevator were closing in, and the door opening didn’t bring any type of relief. Neil wanted to sink into the plush carpet and drown in it, but forced his feet to carry him forward, into the room with the black carpet and leather sofas, with the red vases filled with orchids and the walls covered with the priceless screens and woodblock prints and the wall of glass overlooking the court below. The room with one exit which was well guarded.

The room where Tetsuji and Riko Moriyama stood waiting for him, along with Patrick DiMaccio.

It took his brain a few seconds to reconcile the three people standing there like that, why one of his father’s men – his father’s right hand, at that – would associate with the founder of Exy and one of its star players. Yet DiMaccio stood a respectful distance from Tetsuji appearing a bit rougher and older than Neil recalled (he remembered the bastard trying to kill him and his mother, remembered DiMaccio’s scarred face twisted in hate as they ran away, remembered the pain those rough hands could mete out) while a greyer version of Tetsuji eyed Neil with calm indifference and a teenage Riko gazed at him as if he was some sort of rare specimen.

“Nathaniel Wesninski,” Tetsuji said into the uncomfortable quietness of the room.

Neil did his best not to flinch at hearing that name and shifted about as he stood in front of the men with his hands bound in front of him, still dressed in the same clothes he’d worn for at least two days – loose faded jeans, a large white t-shirt and a worn, pale grey hooded t-shirt. When he didn’t say anything, Tetsuji nodded to one of the men standing next to Neil, who handed over the duffel bag which had rarely left Neil’s sight in the last eight years.

“It’s been an interesting few days, tracking you down and unraveling your past. You were found trying to cross over the Mexico border with the remains of my money.” When Neil stirred at that, Tetsuji arched an eyebrow. “Yes? Do you feel like speaking now?”

“Yu-your money?” Neil cast a leery look at DiMaccio, who scoffed at the question.

“You damn well know where that money came from, you little shit,” the large enforcer said, his voice just as rough as always and possessing a strong Mid-Atlantic accent. “You-“ One gesture from Tetsuji and he fell quiet and backed down.

Neil stared on in disbelief at that, at his _father’s_ enforcer obeying a Japanese man half his size dressed in black slacks and a black polo with an EA Raven’s logo. “But that… that’s not possible,” Neil said, his voice little more than a whisper.

Riko continued to stare at him for a few more seconds before speaking in Japanese, to which his uncle gave a slight nod. “Where is your mother? Where is Mary Wesninski?”

Doing his best not to flinch at the question, Neil had to struggle to breathe for a moment, which earned him a shove from the guard standing at his left. “She’s dead,” he managed to choke out as all of the black in the room reminded him of the night-time sky above him and dark water stretching out to the horizon, the flames burning dancing spots into his vision as he did his best not to cry despite the acrid tang of smoke.

“When?”

The sound of Tetsuji’s impassive, low voice snapped Neil back to the present even as he had trouble understanding what was said and ended up being manhandled onto his knees. “Answer Master Moriyama,” the guard barked at him while a strong hand on the back of his neck forced him to look up at the Japanese man.

“When did she die?” Tetsuya asked while Riko smirked at Neil.

“In… in California, about a year ago.” Once again he was back on the beach with the wet black sand, could smell the acrid stench of gasoline and burnt flesh, of plastic and rubber and metal set afire, until the thick fingers squeezed too tight around his nape. “After we ran into my father in Seattle,” he gasped. “I burned her body and mu-made my way to Millport.”

Tetsuji studied him for a moment then looked at DiMaccio, who gave him a courteous nod. “It matches what we’ve found out so far. There’s been no sight of the bitch anywhere and he was in that town for a year under the latest alias with some story about his parents being away for work a lot. Mary never let him out of her reach for more than a day, let alone months.”

“Then he’s probably telling the truth.” Tetsuji nodded to the man behind Neil before he used the black cane in his right hand to jab Neil in the chest. “Do you know why you’re here?”

For a moment Neil debated lying, debated saying it had something to do with his father and decided that for once, it was best to tell the truth. “No.”

“Good, you’ll do better if you’re honest with me from here on out.” Tetsuji used the metal-covered tip of the straight cane to force Neil to look up at him. “Your father works for me.” When Neil’s eyes went wide with shock upon hearing that and he made to shake his head in denial of the thought of the _Butcher of Baltimore_ reporting to anyone, let alone an Exy coach, the tip jabbed him in the throat just hard enough to make him cough with the need for air. “It’s the truth, and the sooner you accept that, the better.”

“He’s not lying, Junior,” DiMaccio agreed. “Why do you think I’m here?”

Neil struggled to remain somewhat upright and shook his head. “To… to ku-kill me.” To kill him in his father’s stead since Nathan Wesninski was in prison; to chop him into pieces, much like what had happened to that man so many years ago. Though if what they said was the truth, it explained _why_ that had happened, didn’t it?

DiMaccio snorted in amusement at that while Riko’s smirk widened. However, Tetsuji shook his head. “I don’t kill assets, and you’ve already cost me money.” At Neil’s confused look, Tetsuji motioned at the windows which overlooked the court below. “You were here eight years ago to prove your worth as a Raven, an audition which your mother interrupted when she took you and the money I gave your father to hand you over to me.” Neil stilled upon hearing that he was to have been given to Moriyama all those years ago – that he was meant to play alongside of Kevin and Riko. Then the part about the money kicked in and he realized that he would have been _sold_ , like a slave.

“But-“

He was jabbed in the throat again.

“Be quiet,” Tetsuji ordered while Neil struggled to breathe. “I see there will be a need to teach you your proper place along with the necessary training to bring out your true potential.” Through the tears in Neil’s eyes as he coughed in pain, he thought that Riko appeared pleased at that prospect. “You possessed a talent all those years ago, but it’s grown rusty from the videos I’ve seen. Rusty, but still there.” For a moment something dark twisted Tetsuji’s face before it became impassive once again. “However, Kevin was right to recognize the ability buried beneath that rust.” Beside him, Riko’s smirk vanished beneath obvious jealousy and hate.

“We will beat off that rust and drag that potential to the fore,” Tetsuji declared. “As of now, Nathaniel Wesninski, you are returned to your proper place and are a Raven.”

“I’m not a possession,” Neil declared. “I’m not-“

A swing from Tetsuji’s cane cut him off as it hit the side of his head and knocked him to the floor, for a moment blinding him with a flash of white and a searing pain that jolted through his skull.

Tetsuji spoke in Japanese as he walked away, though Neil thought he caught the French word ‘Moreau’. As soon as the Japanese bastard was out of the room, DiMaccio grabbed Neil by the front of his shirts and yanked him into the air, the sudden motion making Neil’s head ache and stomach heave.

“Listen well, Junior,” the enforcer said with a thin sliver of a smile on his full lips, the lower one creased with a thick scar and no emotion in his pale brown eyes. “I’ve got a message from your father for you.”

Neil managed a weak grin in return. “I hope he’s doing well in prison. Maybe I can send him some soap for all those fun times in the-“ He refused to show any pain when the bastard gave him a rough shake.

“You look like him but you sound like her, it makes me want to rip out that foul tongue of yours,” DiMaccio said with a low growl, his voice a deep rumble. “Now listen, you little shit. Moriyama wasn’t kidding about you being where you belong. You stay here and you do what you’re told for once in your fucking life, or you deal with us, you got it?” DiMaccio gave Neil another rough shake until he nodded. “Your father said he’ll cut off your feet an inch at a fucking time and make you eat them if you try to run again. Got it?”

“Got it.” Neil barely, just barely, resisted the urge to spit in the bastard’s face – and only because he already bore enough scars from DiMaccio.

“It’ll be a first, but I’m sure the Moriyamas will teach you some manners soon enough. Remember, we’re watching you,” DiMaccio warned as he dropped Neil onto the floor before walking away.

That left Neil with a pleased Riko and the two guards; after eyeing him for a couple of seconds, Riko motioned to one of the men who leaned down to saw through the plastic ties around Neil’s sore wrists with a knife before hauling him onto his feet.

“You’ll be in the Red Hall sharing a room with Jean Moreau,” Riko explained as they left the East Tower with Neil between the two guards yet again. “He’s property, too, so don’t expect him to sympathize, especially when you should have been here years before. You’ll have tonight to be taught what you need about your new home, and tomorrow you’ll be out on the court where Uncle will determine if it’s worth it to keep moving forward with you as a striker or return you to your original position as a backliner.”

Neil stared at Riko as if he was insane – no, he _was_ insane, everything about this situation was insane, but if he could trust the words being spoken just then. “I’m to play Exy.”

Riko reached out to grasp Neil by the chin; held as he was by the two guards, Neil couldn’t do anything to escape the strong, calloused fingers digging into his flesh nor the cruel gaze latching onto his own. “Are you that stupid? Your only purpose is to play Exy for my uncle and to play well.” He frowned after a few seconds as he studied Neil’s face. “No more contacts, I won’t have you hiding behind such ugly things.”

“But I-“ Neil bit into his tongue rather than give the asshole the satisfaction of hearing him groan from the harsh slap which knocked his head aside.

“Maybe you _are_ that stupid, but you’ll soon learn some basic rules,” Riko said with evident glee as he grabbed Neil by the hair. “You don’t talk back to me. You don’t talk until I give you permission. You listen to what I say and you _obey_ me.” He gave Neil’s hair a hard yank. “Understand?”

Too bad Neil had only ever listened to his mother, and not well enough to avoid ending up in this mess. “Fuck you,” he told Riko, and braced himself for the blow to come – a punch to the stomach.

“You’ll be broken before the next season even starts,” Riko promised as he followed with his right knee into Neil’s chest, then his elbow down onto Neil’s back to knock him onto the floor of the elevator. “Jean will go over the basics with you tonight, tomorrow will be practice, the first of many, and as long as Uncle decides you’re worth the effort, you’ll spend the summer being beaten into shape for the upcoming season.” The bastard emphasized ‘beaten’ with a kick that rolled Neil onto his knees. “Bring him along,” he ordered the two men.

Neil was half-dragged into the Nest and past several people whom he assumed would be his future teammates, if he survived his ‘audition’. Young men and women dressed in black and red tracksuits who were able to ignore him and the two guards with ease, who gave Riko a respectful bow of the head and went on their way without saying a word. He’d find it amusing if he wasn’t in pain and about to be stuck in the dark, black-walled, dungeon-like place for the foreseeable future. A dungeon where the exits were controlled with access codes.

Right then, as Neil swallowed down a mouthful of blood and felt a familiar throb of pain through his body, as he realized that the situation was fucked up and only about to get more fucked up, that he had no chance of escape and would only have to bear down and accept the pain, accept the abuse and whatever the hell the Moriyamas threw at him until there was some small chance of… of _something_ … he felt an intense wave of hate for Kevin Day - for Kevin Day and Coach Hernandez, for Coach Wymack and Andrew Minyard. For the man who had sent out the recordings of his games and the man who thought he could ‘save’ Neil. For Kevin, who thought he could show up and get whatever he wanted, and for Minyard who had to fuck up Neil’s chance at escape and had probably been the one to post about him on the damn forum, he was that much of an asshole. Because of all four of them, Neil’s attempt to enjoy something for once in his life had been ruined, had blown up in his face and his past had caught up to him with a vengeance.

“Here,” Riko said before pushing open a door and stepping into a room which Neil was shoved into a moment later. It was done in black as well – everything in the room was black, the furniture and bedding and walls, enough to make the rare bits of color (books, odds and ends, a scarf) stand out in stark relief.

The young man who had been sitting at one of the two desks all but jumped to his feet and bowed his head to Riko in a subservient manner, the ‘3’ tattoo on his cheek standing out in stark relief on his pale skin. Neil recognized Jean Moreau, starting backliner for the Ravens right away not only by the tattoo but his neatly combed black hair and pale grey eyes, as well as the way he loomed over Riko. He definitely was a lot taller than Neil, almost an entire foot taller than him, in fact, and Riko had a couple of inches on Neil’s 5’3” height – or lack of it, as most people liked to remind him.

Still, Riko was the one who drew attention while in the room with his manic dark eyes and cruel grin. “We have a new roommate for you, Jean. A new _partner_.” He had the guards dump Neil on the unmade bed on the left side of the room. “Nathaniel Wesninski decided to return to his rightful place after all this time, though he’s going by Neil Josten now.” Riko’s smile took on a sharp edge while Jean flinched for some reason, the motion slight but telling. “My uncle’s leaning toward keeping the latter, it’ll look better on a jersey, I suppose.”

“Josten,” Jean said in a quiet voice with a French accent. “The Foxes’ missing recruit.”

Something twisted on Riko’s face once again. “ _Kevin’s_ missing recruit, don’t you mean?” Then the sharp smile returned. “Quite the irony, don’t you think? Dear _Kevin_ leading us to the little runaway we’ve been searching for oh so long.” Riko gave Neil a pointed look while Neil gave a tentative press to his ribs to make sure nothing had been cracked or broken.

Deciding that it wouldn’t hurt to give away a bit of information and might make the bastard leave a little sooner, Neil shook his head. “He didn’t appear to recognize me at all. I ran because I wanted to make sure he didn’t, because he was too determined for me to join his team and I knew it would only be a matter of time before the truth came out if I did.” Then he laughed a little, the sound bitter and defeated. “Not that it mattered.”

Riko laughed as well, only _he_ sounded amused. “You can thank Minyard, his delinquent guard dog for that, he’s unhinged when it comes to _Kevin_.”

There seemed to be a lot of that going around, but Neil just barely kept the comment to himself and managed to keep from being hit again for once. Riko nodded once in approval before returning his attention to Jean. “He’s your problem now,” that made Jean’s back stiffen in obvious displeasure. “Teach him some basic manners and the rest tonight and show up tomorrow for morning practice, the both of you.”

It was quiet for about a minute after Riko left the two of them alone in the room, until Jean let out an elegant snort and went to stand more in the middle of the room. “Nathaniel Wesninski,” he said in that accented voice of his which made Neil think of all those years spent in Europe with his mother, the time in Paris and Marseilles and Antwerp, in Quebec City and Montreal in Canada.

For a moment an intense longing filled Neil as he thought about all those cities and countries with his mother, all those years on the run. How Mary had kept him going, had kept him (mostly) safe, and here he was in the place she’d done her best to keep him from, apparently. How it had all been for nothing in the end.

How she’d died for nothing in the end.

All because he’d been so stupid and hadn’t listened to her, had stopped running. Because Kevin Day and Andrew Minyard had to come along and fuck up the one good thing he had left.

Then he shoved it all aside, the pain and the loss and the regret, everything but the anger and the hate. He kept them close as he smiled at Jean. “Didn’t you hear? I’m Neil Josten.” He allowed some of the British accent he always used when alone with his mother or when outside of the US – which had been most of his life except for the past year or so – to creep into his voice.

Something in his expression unsettled the Frenchman. “That hasn’t been decided for certain,” Jean argued before he gave Neil a blank look. “Though that is a more preferable name.” He looked Neil up and down. “You don’t look like much, all things considered.”

Meaning he didn’t look like a monster, most likely. Neil thought about the dye in his hair and the contacts in his eyes and smiled. “Looks can be deceiving.”

“One hopes, because you’re my responsibility now,” Jean shot back as he folded his arms over his chest; he was dressed in a black tracksuit like the others had been, black with red lines down the sides of the arms and the legs and a number ‘3’ on the left chest.

Neil sneered at that. “I’m not your anything.”

Jean could move with a good bit of speed and came toe to toe with Neil, making him wish he had some sort of weapon on him still, yet all the taller young man did was glare down at him. “No, you’re my _responsibility_. Let me explain something to you, _Josten_ ,” Jean sneered as well. “Everyone here is paired up with someone else and so is responsible for each other. You share a room with them, you share a similar class schedule with them, you are always together with them.” When Neil snorted in disgust at that, Jean’s pale eyes narrowed. “You practice together and you succeed together. More importantly, you _fail_ _together_ ,” he stressed. “ _We_ fail together. So when you go out onto that court tomorrow, your ineptitude will reflect upon me, which is something I won’t tolerate for long. And that mouth of yours? That defiance? I will _not_ tolerate it for long, either.”

“What, Riko’s going to kick the shit out of you, too?” Neil taunted, only to stare in disbelief when Jean’s expression grew shuttered; this close, he realized that he could see faint scars on the backliner’s forehead, almost hidden by the thick fall of black bangs. “Really?”

“We fail together,” Jean repeated before he walked away.

“What happened to your last partner?” Neil asked as he went over to the dresser on what he assumed to be ‘his’ side of the room.

Jean gave a very nonchalant shrug. “A word of advice to you, do not mention Kevin if you can avoid it.” He spoke the striker’s name with an abundance of venom, to which Neil raised an eyebrow. “Jamie wasn’t very good at remembering that.”

“I see.” Neil opened a drawer to reveal what looked to be some new clothes, almost all of it black. “Are these his?”

“No, those were delivered earlier today,” Jean admitted as he returned to his desk. “I suppose that should have been a warning, but I didn’t quite expect… you.”

“I didn’t quite expect _any_ of this.” Neil flipped through the clothes since he’d been dragged along without sign of his duffel bag, and found what looked to be a couple different versions of the tracksuit that Jean was wearing in what should be his size, along with some shorts and sweatpants. Well, in something that would fit him without being too big or loose. Another drawer contained t-shirts, long-sleeved shirts and a couple of sweatshirts, another underwear and socks, and there were some pajamas as well. All of it black and red and bearing the Edgar Allan logo.

The closet contained dress slacks and a couple of pairs of jeans, some dress shirts and polos, and some nice sweaters. “They’re probably waiting for you to confirm that you can still play before they give you any official jackets,” Jean said. “Though I’m sure you’ll have a uniform waiting for you tomorrow.”

“And if I can’t play?” Neil asked as he closed the door, a budding sense of panic which he refused to acknowledge growing inside of him; it was too real, seeing all of those things in his size, in knowing that the Moriyamas had managed to prepare all of this on such short notice. His father had been rich and powerful… and these were people to which Nathan Wesninski was but a lackey? Just how powerful were the Moriyamas? Powerful enough that he’d never heard of them even with all the time he’d spent on the run, in dealing with forgers and counterfeiters and smugglers and worse.

Too powerful, he was afraid.

Jean’s grim smile was all the answer he needed just then.

“Go wash yourself,” Jean ordered as he wrote some notes down. “When you’re done, we’ll begin your education, _rosbifs.”_

Neil blinked at the insult, which he hadn’t heard since leaving Amsterdam, really, and had to push down another wave of remorse and guilt. “Bet you can’t stand the color scheme here,” he said without any attempt to hide his British accent as he grabbed some clean clothes to take into the bathroom connected to the bedroom suite. “No white anywhere to be found.”

He’d reached the bathroom and locked the door behind him before it sunk in what he’d meant by that jab, and managed a smile for the first time in what felt like forever while Jean ranted about stupid Englishmen.

He had a feeling it would probably be the only time he smiled for the foreseeable future.

*******

Andrew itched for a cigarette as they waited for their connecting flight back to South Carolina at the Atlanta airport. “What? You got this one, he was all but tripping over his feet to sign the contract.” Unlike a certain rabbit.

Kevin shook his head while he stared after Wymack, who was off getting the three of them some coffee. “He’s not good enough.”

“Of course he isn’t.” Andrew rolled his eyes at that while his hands rubbed up and down the insides of his forearms, desperate to feel the familiar, welcoming weight of his knives. Oh, returning to campus couldn’t come soon enough, but at least he was done with traveling for the next few months – until they had a long-distance away game. “What did you expect, this late in the season? All the best players have been picked over a couple of months ago.”

“Josten wasn’t,” Kevin said with a stubborn jut of his chin.

“I said ‘the best players’.” Andrew wondered if he could get away with bashing Kevin’s head in with a garbage can or something, but decided it would be too much effort to lift the large thing. Was there anything smaller that would do sufficient damage? A quick glance around the terminal didn’t reveal anything of much use, so it looked as if the insufferable bastard got to live a little longer. “Not neurotic liars and runaways.”

“What is your problem with Josten?” Kevin demanded to know as he dropped his carry-on bag to the floor.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that he turned you down then ran for the hills? That Hernandez discovered that he’d been lying about where he’d lived for the year and that his parents didn’t exist?” Andrew gave the drunken coward a too-sharp smile as he folded his knife-less arms across his chest. “He was one huge lie and that makes me a wee bit suspicious, especially since he drew your attention.”

Kevin snorted at that. “Yes, but he _ran_. If he was supposed to be a trap, why did he run?”

That’s what bothered Andrew the most, to be honest. Why _had_ Josten run? Why had he seemed to panic, to hide the fact that he’d panicked, after seeing Kevin? To turn down something he seemed to want so much? Anyone could tell from the way that he played that he lived for Exy (maybe not Andrew, because really, _live_ for Exy?) – that’s what had drawn Kevin to him, after all. Yet he’d spit in Wymack’s face and turned down a chance to play Exy, to have a college degree even if it meant playing for the Foxes (not even _Aaron_ had been able to do that).

Something was just a _little_ off there, and that made Andrew suspicious as fuck.

He didn’t like puzzles, especially ones which nagged at him like this one, and Neil Josten was one hell of a pretty-faced puzzle, from what he could tell.

“That’s what I’d like to know,” he told Kevin as he rocked back onto his heels. “Oh, except the rabbit isn’t anywhere to be found. Imagine that.”

Kevin let out a weary sigh as he shook his head. “Yeah, I know that. It’s why we had to sign Yee instead.” He didn’t sound too happy.

Keung ‘Kenny’ Yee, a rather bland name for their new striker – a nice, Anglicized nickname for someone who was trying so hard to fit in, for someone with all these lovely anger issues which made him a Fox. Renee should adore him… not.

Kenny Yee with his pockmarked face and massive attitude and eagerness to leave behind his stifling home who were too ‘demanding’ for his taste (re: too traditional and too caring and too close and Andrew already loathed him on sight). He had a bit in common with Reynolds in that regard, except his family were pure middle class, if even that, but he couldn’t claim any abuse other than strict parents, couldn’t claim the usual sob story other than innate stupidity and poor choices on his part. Well, it could be argued that he had a shitload of racism shoved down his throat, which was one of the few things Andrew hadn’t experienced, but somehow he didn’t think the kid would garnish much sympathy from Wilds or Renee or Gordon or even Nicky in the end.

He certain wasn’t going to gain much sympathy from Andrew, not when it seemed that Yee had created most of his problems. But he was a striker when the team needed a striker, so Andrew would ignore him.

The kid just wasn’t the striker that Kevin needed, it seemed. Cue the waterfall of tears – at least from someone who cared. He was a passable player whose issues had kept him from being recruited by anyone other than Wymack, who was an idiot and was sub material at best.

Kevin would have to work hard to beat him into shape, but perhaps that would be for the best, Andrew considered as he caught sight of Wymack strolling toward them with a carrier full of coffee and a bag of take-out in his hands. It would give the Exy junkie something to focus on other than the Moriyamas and the Ravens, would keep him busy on the court where it was easier for Andrew to keep an eye on him. Not much for Andrew, but he was used to being screwed over at this point in his life.

Not as much fun as watching Kevin play with a rabbit who possessed long runner’s legs and a lean body Andrew wouldn’t have minded getting his hands on, but there had been something too suspicious about those over-large, too worn clothes, that dull, dark floppy hair and boring, ugly brown eyes. Something that made Andrew think that Josten was trying to mask his appearance, when anyone else would have been pleased to possess such stunning looks.

There had to be a reason for that, and now it would nag at Andrew, would whirl around in some corner of his drug-soaked brain like a battery-powered toy left on in chest – except there was no hope of the batteries running out as long as he was stuck on the happy pills.

Fucking Neil Josten. Wherever the mysterious rabbit had up and gone, Andrew hoped he was in some shithole even worse than Millport, Arizona.

*******

Neil woke up with a start, his hands scrambling for the gun beneath the pillow on his bed which wasn't there, blurry eyes blinking as he took in the unrelenting blackness of the strange room and tired mind whirling as the events of the last few days slowly returned to him. Being caught in San Antonio, the long car ride, Edgar Allan, the Moriyamas, DiMaccio, finding out why his mother had taken him and run all those years ago, being told he would now play for the Ravens.... For a moment, all Neil wanted to do was pull the black covers over his head and deny it all, to pretend it was just some sort of nightmare, but that wouldn't make it all go away.

Besides, his new roommate threw something which felt like a book at him.

"You have ten minutes to get ready, per the schedule I explained to you last night. Tardiness is not tolerated."

"Nothing is tolerated here, from what I gathered," Neil mumbled as he shoved the covers aside, along with the book. For a moment he twitched when he realized that Jean was staring at his eyes, which were left exposed without the colored contacts that he'd worn for so long, and then he resigned himself to such things; without his duffel bag he didn't have any replacement pairs and he'd kept the old ones in for too long as it were without cleaning them - that and he'd been told to take them out. Jean had been very explicit last night in explaining what would happen to Neil if he continued to defy Riko and Tetsuji.

He got out of bed and went into the bathroom (more black - black tile, black shower curtain, black linens) to wash his face and brush his teeth after using the toilet, and returned there once he saw what Jean was wearing for the day so he could change without the backliner staring at his scars.

Jean gave him a disproving look when he returned to the bedroom. "You'll have to get over this false modesty very quickly. There's no real privacy amongst us Ravens."

"I'm not a Raven yet,” Neil argued as he tugged on the hem of his black t-shirt.

"You have always been a Raven," Jean shot back. "Ever since the day your father handed you over to Tetsuji." Before Neil could argue with that, he walked out of their suite.

There were more Ravens out in the hallway, some Neil recognized due to having followed Riko and Kevin's careers over the years, some he didn't. Jean, who had waited for Neil to fall in step beside him, murmured their names and positions as they walked to what appeared to be a small kitchen where several people prepared something light to eat before morning practice. Jean started to make what looked to be some sort of shake with a powdered mix while Neil watched on. "We'll eat after practice, but you need something until then." He added some fruit to the blender, to which Neil nodded, a faint smile on his face when Neil grimaced at the pile of green, leafy vegetables. "One of the team's dieticians will work with you."

"Wonderful." Neil thought of all the years of grabbing whatever was cheapest and easiest to eat while on the run, what wouldn't spoil (or wasn't too spoiled), and sighed. While Jean poured their 'snack' into two glasses, he noticed the assessing looks sent his way - assessing and hostile. However, he didn't say anything right then, he merely accepted the glass and forced down its contents with a long-practiced ease. It wasn't anywhere near as bad as some of the other things he'd had before, the sourness of the powder somewhat masked by the fruit.

Jean nodded in approval once their empty glasses were placed in the sink. "Now to the locker rooms." They were quiet until out in the hallway, where Jean gave him a sideways glance. "Do you... _do you speak French_?" he asked, having switched to that language at the end.

Neil debated giving up that advantage so early, but since he'd acknowledged Jean's little jab at him last night and a few other insults which had been peppered in among all of the information crammed down his throat, it probably was better to admit the truth sooner rather than later. The one thing which was becoming clear was that - albeit with great reluctance - Jean was the closest thing to an ally at Edgar Allan that Neil had, and that was only because of the inane 'pairing' rule between teammates – a fucked up ‘one for all and all for one’ mentality on a minor scale. So he begrudgingly said “ _yes_ ”.

Something akin to relief flashed over Jean's face for a moment, quickly replaced by the backliner’s usual passive indifference. " _That should make things a little easier_ ," he continued in French. " _Though be careful, since Riko doesn't care to be left out of conversations_."

“ _Ah_.” Neil arched an eyebrow at that. “ _One gets the impression that Riko doesn’t care for a lot of things_.” To hear about Kevin or be left out of things or have his authority questioned. One might think of him as a rather insecure fellow, that Riko.

Jean gave a slight shake of his head. “ _I will remind you yet again to be careful around him and mind that tongue of yours. He will get you on your knees one way or another_.” Judging from the bitterness in his voice, Jean seemed to be speaking from personal experience. “ _You can go down on them willingly or end up on them broken_.”

“ _He only thinks he can break me_ ,” Neil said as he stared straight ahead, as he thought of everything his father had done to him, his father and his father’s people.

That prompted a faint laugh from the backliner. “ _Wonderful, a challenge.”_ Jean said the last word as if it was an obscenity. _“The question will be **when** you break, and how much grief you drag me into with your stubborn stupidity until then_.”

There wasn’t much Neil could say to that, so they both were quiet until they reached the locker rooms. Neil was unhappy to note the open showers lacking any stalls or shower curtains, and the weighted stares from the other Ravens as Jean led him to a row of lockers away from everyone else.

“At the moment, you are now number ‘4’ on grace,” Jean explained in English. “You would have been ‘3’, except your mother interfered.” He inclined his head to the left, the side of his face which bore the number tattooed on his own cheek. “You will have to prove to the master that you deserve your new number.”

“I don’t care,” Neil lied as he stood there with his hands clenched into fists; it was a lie because more than anything he wanted to put on the gear waiting for him behind the metal door of the locker, to go out onto that court and play Exy. All he’d ever wanted to do was to play Exy, really. But what he _didn’t_ want was to be told he _had_ to play it, to play it for some assholes who had dragged him all the way here and considered him property.

Jean gave him a small, mocking smile even though his eyes contained an emotion which resembled pity as if he knew Neil’s thoughts. “ _You have no choice because that’s why you’re here. From now on, your only reason to exist is to play and play well – how many times do you need that explained to you?_ ” he asked in French. “ _You put on the uniform and you do your best, because to do less is to suffer or worse_.”

“ _To be beaten. I can take beatings_ ,” Neil sneered.

“ _At first_.” Jean looked away as he opened Neil’s locker and grabbed a jersey with ‘Josten’ across the back of it yet bereft of a number. “ _There are worse things than beatings, though_.” Before Neil could ask what they were, the jersey was flung at his face. “ _And in the end, death, because a worthless asset is no asset at all_.”

After seeing what his father had done to people in the basement of the house back in Baltimore, to the sobbing man up in the East Tower… Neil had an idea of what death would await him if he proved ‘worthless’ and grit his teeth as he set about changing into his new uniform without removing all of his clothes. Jean scoffed at him before changing out, uncaring as he stripped down to his boxer-briefs right beside Neil, who struggled to pull out his t-shirt beneath his new black under-shirt. At least he didn’t have many scars on his legs so it wasn’t a problem to strip off the track pants in front of someone.

Once he was fully dressed save for his helmet and gloves (and a little disturbed by how well everything fit), Jean led him out onto the court, where Neil paused for a moment as memories overwhelmed him – of all the years ago when he’d been on it with Riko and Kevin, of how happy he’d been that day eight years go as he’d played with them, only for the day to end in horror and the next to be the start of a nightmare that was still ongoing.

“ _Do well, roast beef, and you’ll be out here every day, will hear the crowds cheer you on_ ,” Jean murmured as he gave Neil a gentle shove forward.

Neil glared at the French bastard for a moment even as he felt the insane urge to smile despite everything. Then he schooled his expression into blankness as he followed Jean toward where Riko and Tetsuji were standing together and looking at some sort of chart. Riko raised his head at their approach and gave Neil an appraising look before nodding at Jean. “It’s a start, at least.” Neil took that to mean about his appearance.

Jean stepped on his foot as if in hopes to keep him quiet, but before he could say anything, Tetsuji spoke up. “Why did you switch positions? Why a striker this past year?” He gave Neil a cold look, much like one would give an unknown insect they were trying to identify, one that disgusted yet mystified them and would be squashed as soon as the sense of curiosity was satisfied.

“I… it was the only available one on the team,” Neil found himself explaining, unnerved by the look in the man’s flat black eyes despite having been around all of his father’s people – perhaps _because_ he had been around his father’s people and knew that as far as Tetsuji was concerned, he was a mere _thing_. “I wanted to play so much that I agreed to being a striker, and I thought that it would help confuse anyone who might recognize me.”

Riko snorted in amusement at that while Tetsuji gave a slow nod. “You lack precision and strength, but you have speed and a natural instinct for the ball. You’ll play as a striker today.” Then he made a dismissive wave at Neil as if that was all and spoke to his nephew in Japanese.

Jean gave the two men a short bow as he placed his left hand on the back of Neil’s neck and forced him to do the same; Neil resisted at first and barely held back on the urge to punch the Frenchman in the stomach, but bent forward the slightest amount before allowing Jean to pull him toward the side of the court where a long line of rackets were held upright in a black rack. Neil blinked in confusion at the two new ones on the end – a backliner and striker racquet perfect for his short stature. “But… how?”

“Only the best for a championship team, and no expense spared.” Jean’s pale gaze flickered over to the Moriyamas. “ _As soon as they discovered who you really were, they would have uncovered everything about you_ ,” he continued in French. “ _These are nothing_.” He flicked a hand at the racquets. “Grab your racquet and go.”

Just when Neil thought he was getting a grasp of how powerful the Moriyamas were, something new came up to throw him off his balance. So he pushed all thoughts of the family out of mind as he did as he’d been told without argument for once and went to where Jean indicated he should stand on the court, along with enough other Ravens for what should be a proper scrimmage.

It was the championship season for the team and they still had one more game to go, and now Neil was being dumped on them during their practice for that game. Between that and him being in the running for the fabled ‘Perfect Court’, he thought he could understand the glares directed his way, the outright animosity for some unknown rookie being given such special treatment. A rookie singled out by Kevin Day, someone who had turned their back on the Ravens a few months ago.

It looked as if he had yet another reason to hate Day, didn’t he?

Tetsuji and Riko called out something in Japanese, and then Riko sauntered out into court to issue a few more commands in English which didn’t make much more sense to Neil but had the players shift about to various positions. Riko and a tall striker (Paul Nichols) faced off for the ball, which Riko won first possession of, and then the game began.

Neil had never seen a game played so fast and vicious before, and within the first minute realized how outclassed he was – he’d expected it somewhat, considering that these were university players, were Class I, but he could only hold on to the ball for a couple of steps before he was knocked aside or down, before someone easily elbowed him aside or slammed him into the walls (most often Riko, surprise surprise) to steal the ball away. Yet despite that humbling realization, he dug down deep and got back on his feet, he caught his breath and went after the ball again and again.

By the time Tetsuji called an end to the match, Neil was bruised all over, his lower lip was split and bleeding and his ego had taken the worst hit of all, so it was no surprise when the man turned to Jean and ordered them to go through drills until it was time for Jean to report to class.

“So much for breakfast,” Neil said as he followed a frowning Jean over to the other side of the court while several Ravens sniggered behind their backs.

“You’ll be lucky if you get lunch,” Jean warned. “That was truly pathetic so I suggest you shut up and watch.”

About to snap at the bastard, Neil thought of how Jean was going hungry because of him and swallowed the insult on the tip of his tongue instead. Then he stood there as Jean set up a series of cones and walked him through what was the first of the supposed famous Raven drills.

“ _Learn it quickly, for both our sakes_ ,” Jean told him. “ _Prove to me how clever you are, and make those bastards who are hoping to see both us fail choke on their envy_.”

“ _Why should I care_?” Neil asked even as he struggled to get the difficult pass down. “ _Why should I believe you?_ ”

“ _Go ahead and learn the hard way. Why let a thing like my experience help you?_ ” Jean said with a weary sigh, his eyes shaded with a bleak emotion.

Neil was quiet after that and focused on the drill.

When it came time for Jean to leave, it didn’t surprise Neil when he was ordered to continue practicing by himself, which he did to the point that his arms burned from exertion. There was enough water to keep him hydrated and the hunger he ignored with ease from all the times when he and his mother couldn’t risk stopping to eat, but he was grateful when Jean returned and told him it was time for a break.

He wasn’t grateful for having to shower in the large room without a door or curtain, and was certain that Jean leaned against the far wall in order to drive a point home, to remind Neil that he’d have to get used to it. At least Jean kept his gaze mostly downward after a brief look at Neil’s scars, though he didn’t say anything about them.

Lunch was steamed fish and rice and pickled vegetables, which Neil managed to choke down under Jean’s watchful eye, and found himself surprised when there was a bowl of strawberries afterwards, to which Jean didn’t say anything as he sipped his coffee while looking aside. They returned to their room afterward, where Jean worked on his homework and made Neil watch part of the Ravens’ last game (against the Lions) before they had to report for afternoon practice.

It was more of the same, of Riko taking great delight in beating Neil on court, him and the other Ravens, and Neil doing what he could to hold his own while Tetsuji watched it all with an impassive, judgmental eye. Then for him to spend his evening practicing drills until he could barely move his arms.

The next day was much the same, except Tetsuji switched him to the backliner position, and when Neil called Riko an asshole in the afternoon practice, he received a hit to the head (mostly blocked by his helmet) from the end of Riko’s racquet.

That evening both he and Jean went without dinner while he worked on the drill until late at night and then had to clean the court before they could leave, and Neil was so grateful to collapse into his new bed when it was all done. Only for the day to start again all too soon.

He couldn’t get the saying ‘be careful what you wish for’ out of his head – it was on a constant loop in his thoughts, repeated in English, French, and German, even in rough Spanish and Italian. For so long he’d regretted being unable to play Exy, had thought back on when he’d played with Riko and Kevin at Evermore, had gone so far as to dare to ignore his mother’s numerous warnings and join some no-name team in a town in the middle of nowhere….

Only to find himself back at Evermore not by his own choice but forcibly dragged there and told that he should have been at the Nest all along, that he was Moriyama property. That his mother hadn’t taken him and run so much from his father but his father’s employers. That he had no choice _but_ to play Exy since he was Moriyama property, and he had to be of value to them in one way or another.

Just because he was property didn’t mean he was treated well; Riko hadn’t gone as ‘overboard’ with the abuse since the first night, but Neil had a feeling that the bastard was only holding back because enough abuse was being inflicted upon him thanks to Tetsuji’s ‘trial’ runs. Because he needed to be in some sort of decent shape for the trial runs.

Most of the Ravens were utterly vicious as Tetsuji kept testing Neil on his skills as a backliner and a striker in order to determine what his position would be for the upcoming season. ‘Nathaniel’ was to have been a Raven backliner, after all, to join the Perfect Court as number ‘3’ – but Mary had taken him away and Jean Moreau had stepped into his place. ‘Neil’ was known as a striker, and thanks to Minyard posting about him turning down Kevin Day, it would raise some questions if Tetsuji switched Neil’s spot on the team without good reason. Hell, Neil had to give a reason why he was even a _Raven_ , let alone one posed for the Perfect Court, and the other Ravens were only so happy to prove to their precious ‘master’ that he shouldn’t be allowed in the Nest at all.

On top of Riko’s ‘attention’, the ramped up schedule at the Nest where Exy was the main focus of everything, Neil was almost delirious from the pain and exhaustion over a week later when Tetsuji approached him after another grueling session of practice, right before the Ravens’ championship game with the Trojans. Neil could feel each and every place he’d been hit during his hours out on the court, all the spots where his body had been slammed against the walls or knocked onto the hard wood floors, the sore points where sticks or body parts had knocked into him. Riko of course was the worst offender, but Johnson and Saunders were almost as bad - Johnson refused to accept the possibility of a ‘rookie’ being accepted onto the team so easily, while Saunders was doing his best to move onto the starting lineup.

It probably didn’t help that Neil did his best to give back as good as he got, that he refused to just take the hits without going down fighting. All of the Ravens (including the women) were taller than him and outweighed him, but he was faster and had spent the last several years fighting for his life in a literal sense. If it were a proper game he’d have been red-carded several times, but Tetsuji let things play out other than to call out a few instructions in Japanese – instructions Neil was slowly picking up, as he had little choice but to learn the language since it was spoken so often in the Nest.

He didn’t like not knowing what was happening around him, especially since it appeared that he was stuck at Edgar Allan for the foreseeable future.

Riko’s ‘team’ won that day’s game like always, but Neil had managed to score three points, even if two of those points had cost him a black left eye and bruised ribs. Well, more bruised ribs.

Tetsuji came out onto the court and stopped before Neil with the rest of the Ravens fanned out around them, with Jean at Neil’s side as always and Riko standing beside his uncle in a respectful manner. The older man eyed Neil for several seconds with an indifference that made Neil want to throw his helmet at the bastard when he thought about the power Tetsuji wielded over him, until Tetsuji gave a slight nod. “He remains a striker. Give him the number four.” For a moment it looked like amusement flickered across his face before it resumed its usual impassiveness.

There were audible gasps at that declaration and several people took to staring at Neil with open hatred. One dealer – Tyson – actually spoke up. “But he’s not good enough for that number!”

Riko grinned, the expression cruel and eager as he looked at Neil. “We have all summer to make sure he will be.” And by that, he meant to beat Neil into shape.

Tetsuji told everyone to get back to practice, which meant that Neil went off to resume work alone on the Ravens’ drills (he was on the second one by then and almost had it perfected), which he worked on until it was time for lunch; at that point, the Ravens had finished with their classwork (which he felt was a bit of a joke, since it was clear that their main reason for attending the university was to play Exy), and had to bear dealing with the rest of the Ravens as he showered and changed into ‘normal’ clothes so he could eat lunch with Jean and savor a short break before practice resumed.

He should have known something was up when the rest of the team was so quiet despite their anger at Tetsuji’s announcement, how they kept their distance in the shower and locker room, especially when practice was done for the day (at last). Neil had just pulled on his t-shirt, hair still damp and body aching from the latest round of abuse, when strong hands grabbed him and slammed him into the wall of metal doors.

“Let me go!” he called out as he lashed out with his feet and managed to catch Bautista in the abdomen, only for Johnson and Tyler to haul him away and pin him down on one of the benches forming a long row in the locker room. Neil caught sight of a grim-faced Jean standing off to the side shaking his head, and then Riko leaned in to fill his vision. A very pleased-looking Riko who straddled his hips to help keep him on the bench.

“Looks like we’re keeping you after all, _Josten_.”

“Fuck you,” Neil spat as he struggled against the hands holding him down.

“I see you still haven’t learned to watch that mouth of yours, have you? Oh, this is going to be fun.” Riko nodded to Johnson and Tyler, who were holding onto Neil’s shoulders and arms, and Neil found his arms yanked above his head and something that felt like a t-shirt tied around his wrists to hold them beneath the bottom of the bench. Meanwhile, Bautista kept hold of his legs so he couldn’t kick them free, and Tyler went over to help.

“You’re going to learn your place,” Riko said as he pulled a switchblade from the back pocket of his pants, his smile widening when Neil stilled in long-ingrained fear at the sight of the weapon. “You’re going to learn to obey and call me ‘king’.”

“Fuck you,” Neil repeated as he braced himself for what was to come, especially upon sight of the knife, to push down those old fears and memories. “You’re just a kid with self-image problems. Gotta have everyone tell you-“ His head rocked to the side from Riko’s slap.

“Four is going to be the number of teeth you have left when I’m done with you,” Riko said as he flicked the knife open and began to cut at Neil’s shirt. “Do you know what that number symbolizes in Japanese?” When Neil remained silent, he dug the knife into the center of Neil’s chest, right above his sternum, until a whimper of pain escaped past Neil’s lips. “Do you?”

“No.” Neil glared up at the bastard who was going to enjoy causing him pain, he could tell. “What does it mean?”

“Oh, you _can_ learn.” Riko grinned as he finished cutting through Neil’s t-shirt to expose his scarred torso. “It sounds like the word ‘death’, so it’s considered an ill omen, the number. I find it fitting that the son of the Butcher will bear the number – that and he seems determined to talk himself into an early grave.” Riko traced the tip of the knife along the right side of Neil’s chest. “Call me your king.”

Neil smiled at him even as he braced himself for what would happen next. “No.”

Anger flashed in Riko’s dark eyes despite the smile on his face. “I own you now,” he said as he slid the tip of the knife beneath Neil’s skin. “I can do whatever I want to you _forever_.”

He proved just that to Neil, proved that no one would stop him as he slid the knife into Neil’s flesh again and again and _again_ , until Neil screamed from the pain. Neil never called him ‘king’, though, and after a while Riko clicked his tongue in disgust and got up so someone (Neil’s vision was too blurry from the pain at that point) could tattoo the number ‘4’ on his left cheek.

Riko and the others left, then, everyone but Jean who dragged Neil back to the showers to wash the blood from him and wrapped him in towels to keep him from bleeding all over the floor, then dragged him to their suite where he dumped Neil in his chair before going to fetch an impressive first aid kit.

“What, no alcohol?” Neil asked through chattering teeth, the British accent taking over again as it always did when it was just him and Jean, when they were alone in their room. When had he come to think of it as ‘their room’?

Jean gave him a searching look as he removed the towels then shrugged. “What, are you an alcoholic, too?”

Neil managed a slight shake of the head at that. “We… we always used it to dull the pain, my mother and I. For things like this.” Then, since he had given Jean a truth. “Who’s the alcoholic?”

Jean pointedly did not look him in the face as he fetched some alcohol wipes to begin cleaning the new cuts Riko had left behind. “Kevin.” Once again, the name was loaded with a mixture of emotion, hate foremost. “I could never keep anything on hand for very long because he would find it and drink it himself.”

Neil considered that while Jean cleaned the cuts; it worked somewhat as a distraction from the pain. “Did he need it for things like this?”

That wrung a broken laugh from Jean. “ _Kevin_? Oh no, Riko rarely laid a hand on _Kevin_. At least, not until the end.”

So there was a story to be told, but Neil wouldn’t push for it that night. “But he lays a hand on you.” That much seemed obvious since Jean was property, too, since he had something like this and appeared to know what to do with Neil’s wounds, since Neil had seen Riko lash out a time or two at the Frenchman already. Since he’d seen the scars on Jean’s body in the locker room and showers. Since Jean was so worried about being included in Neil’s punishments.

“Yes,” Jean offered once he was done cleaning the cuts. “Now you know why you need to keep that fool mouth of yours shut.”

Despite the fire burning along Neil’s (when had the identity set that deep?) chest, despite knowing that he was just going to be cut and beat again and again and _again_ , he had to laugh. “We may have a problem,” he admitted. Because _Neil_? This identity that seemed to have sunk into his bones with a tenacity which startled him? It was 90% attitude and 50% stupidity and 100% stubbornness, which didn’t make any sense – which summed up _Neil_ perfectly.

Which summed up what had driven him on ever since his mother had died, really. He had nothing to lose anymore without her tethering him to the ground, to reality, to the fact that he had to keep his head down and his mouth shut if he wanted to survive. Which was why he had done something so stupid as to stay still and play Exy. But what did he have to lose anymore, really? It was only him, only Abram, and he didn’t think he could go on without anyone to center him, without anyone to push him and hold on to him and guard his back, to be there at night so he could sleep semi-peacefully.

So fuck ‘em. Fuck everyone who thought they could break him.

Jean closed his eyes and murmured a prayer in French beneath his breath, while Neil grinned at the thought that anyone could still possess any faith in such a place which resembled Hell. “ _Of course I am chained to a fool like you_ ,” Jean said after a preparing a needle to stitch Neil up.

“ _I hear that everyone gets what they deserve_ ,” Neil told him with a fake grin.

“ _I hate you so very, **very** much_ ,” Jean told him with a great deal of passion as he jabbed the needle into Neil’s torn flesh.

There wasn’t much Neil could say to that, so he merely smiled with long-practiced ease through the pain while he was stitched back together.

*******

Andrew yawned in boredom while Kevin watched the championship game between the Ravens and the Trojans, his hands clenched around the empty glass of vodka; Aaron had given up an hour ago and was over at his desk reading some book even though classes were over for the semester, while Nicky played some game on his phone while sprawled out in one of the beanbag chairs. “You know they’re going to win,” Andrew said before sipping his own glass of alcohol.”

Kevin stirred at that and shook his head while he reached to grab the bottle of vodka on the coffee table so he could refill his glass; why the coward wasn’t over at Wymack’s watching the game, Andrew had no clue, but this was keeping them from Eden’s, dammit. Considering how much of a mess Kevin was at the moment, they probably wouldn’t be able to go until the next day. “The score is close, they might-“ as he spoke, Riko scored another goal. “I’d hoped… I thought maybe this year they’d win,” he said as he closed his eyes and raised the glass to his mouth.

“Why, because you’re not there?” Andrew scoffed at that, in no mood to placate Day’s fragile ego. “You’d only be on the court for how long if you were still a Raven, while Riko’s been working up to play longer to cover for you and they still have Moreau and the rest of the line-up.” He grinned as he twisted the knife a little more. “You’re not irreplaceable, imagine that. Guess that’s why you’re number ‘2’.”

“Andrew,” Nicky murmured while casting him an appalled look before offering Kevin an apologetic smile. “You’re always telling us that the Ravens are the best. This just proves it, right?”

“They _are_ the best,” Kevin agreed once he set the empty glass down and reached for the bottle. “This is what the Foxes need to strive for.”

“I think the Foxes are fucked up enough as is,” Andrew remarked before another sip of whiskey.

Kevin flinched at that before he shook his head. “The Foxes are a broken, dysfunctional mess,” he argued, coherent despite all of the alcohol he’d drunk. “You can’t stop fighting long enough to play.”

“We’re not that bad,” Nicky mumbled as he glared at his phone.

“Yes, you are.” Kevin scowled at the television, where Riko had scored another point and the crowd at Edgar Allan roared in excitement. “You’re worse, even.”

“But you’re a Fox now,” Nicky was kind enough to remind the grouch.

Kevin closed his eyes as if in pain and drank straight from the bottle for several swallows. “Next season has to be better,” he said when he finally lowered it, his voice hoarse and expression bleak. “The team has to be better, though you’re still going to be crushed by the big Three.”

Over at his desk, Aaron made a sound of disgust. “We’re missing out on Eden’s for _this_?”

Andrew gave his twin a cheerful grin. “Consider it a taste of what’s to come next fall.”

“I _hate_ this fucking team,” Aaron grumbled as he got up, went into the kitchen to grab a six-pack of beer and then stomped his way into the bedroom with the alcohol and his book.

Andrew sat there nursing his whiskey while Kevin grew drunk enough to pass out, at which point Nicky threw a blanket over him and joined Aaron in the bedroom with more beer; he almost turned the television off but left it on, especially since the game only had a few minutes left. As expected, the Ravens won, though the Trojans didn’t embarrass themselves by giving up too many points.

That team’s captain managed a weary smile for the camera and spouted such ridiculous shit along the lines of ‘good game’ and ‘learning from it’ and ‘looking forward to a rematch next season’, the triteness of his words making Andrew want to gag. This was Jeremy Knox, the player which Kevin talked about with such suspicious fondness and respect? Disgusting.

After putting up with that, Andrew decided he might as well watch a little longer and see what the Ravens had to say, considering all the shit that the team (who was he kidding? It had been Riko and maybe Tetsuji behind it all) and their deranged fans had put the Foxes and the university through in the last few months. That they might go through again with Kevin as a starting striker for the team come September.

It took a few minutes, but they finally got around to interviewing Riko, an arrogant smile on his sweaty face and the Ravens an orderly dark crowd behind him despite the fact that they had just won yet another championship. Tetsuji was standing close to his nephew and appeared grim as fuck while Riko spoke about the superior team winning and gave his uncle credit for his skill as a coach. That smug smile flickered when some reporter asked about how it felt to win the title without Kevin beside him, a faint hint of darkness which Andrew was certain not many people would catch, before Riko managed a (fake) contrite expression.

“It does bring about a sense of sadness, I admit,” Riko told the cameras focused upon him. “Kevin has always been at my side, a huge part of this team and my career that I still can’t believe that he’s not here, but it was his choice to move on and I have to respect that decision.” Then the smile returned. “Yet _we_ are able to move on as well, and as you can see, it hasn’t held us back.” There was a slight twitch to his smile, a sharpness as he leaned forward. “As difficult as it is to move forward without Kevin’s presence, it’s something we have to do and I think you’ll see some interesting changes to the team next year. Interesting and promising changes. We are looking forward to becoming the best we can be, as always, and nothing will hold us back.”

‘ _No one_ ’ was clearly implied in that statement.

Several reporters rushed to speak over the other to ask for clarification, but Riko stepped away from the microphones while Tetsuji shook his head and said that would be enough, that his players were tired and there would be more interviews the next day. Riko paused to glance over his shoulder and gave one more parting smile, one last comment that his players deserved a reward for their efforts, and something in the familiar cruel hunger of that expression made Andrew turn off the television at last, unable to willingly look at the bastard any longer.

He had a feeling that someone at Edgar Allan, at the Nest, wouldn’t be celebrating much longer. However, he’d already taken one broken bird in so it wasn’t his concern.

He got up to fetch some more whiskey.

*******

If Neil thought that being sliced up by a psychotic spoiled brat would cut him any slack when it came to practice, he was wrong; Jean dragged him out of bed the next day without any remorse.

“ _You did this to yourself_ ,” his partner informed him. “ _I told you to behave_.”

Neil managed a weak laugh as he did his best not to wince. “ _How do they expect me to learn anything like this_?”

Jean was still for a moment as he handed Neil his clothes – clothes he’d just shed once they got to the locker room. “ _You had best get used to it, you stubborn fool. Here at the Nest, they don’t care about exhaustion or anything that can be hidden beneath your uniform_.” A haunted look came into those pale eyes which had become so familiar to Neil in such a short time. “ _As long as you can stand, you’ll be out there_.”

Well, it wasn’t like Neil should be that surprised, not after what he’d gone through while Tetsuji had ‘tested’ him to see what position he should play, and it wasn’t anything that he hadn’t endured while on the run with his mother – when they’d pushed themselves to their limits and sometimes beyond to stay ahead of his father’s people. But all of that for a game?

Then again, he was learning that nothing ever was simple when it came to the Moriyamas. Jean was slowly explaining the truth about the family’s empire to him, now that he’d been tattooed and accepted as part of the Perfect Court, now that it was clear that he’d be spending his life as an ‘asset’.

Riko and Tetsuji were part of the side branch of what was a yakuza family, basically ran a front with Exy, the Ravens and the Nest at Edgar Allan as a means for the main branch, headed by Tetsuji’s older brother, Kengo, to use to launder money and bring together his criminal associates under the pretext of watching games. It was all oh-so clever, and now Neil was a part of it, would be handing over the money he made with any endorsements and an expected pro-career.

If he didn’t earn any money? Well, as it had been repeatedly told to him, an asset with no worth wasn’t an asset at all.

So he swallowed the pain with long-practiced ease and changed into his uniform, took his place out on court and dealt with Riko and the jealous Ravens, smiled in defiance when he stole the ball from Riko and managed to score a goal despite it all. Then spent the rest of the day practicing the third Ravens’ drill while the rest of the team prepared for the upcoming championship game, until Tetsuji ordered him into the Nest because of the people arriving – more the media than anything.

There were strict orders for no one to mention Neil to anyone not a Raven or approved by Tetsuji; the team’s coach had made it clear that he wouldn’t allow the leak made by a certain Fox to happen among the Ravens, that he didn’t want anyone to know that Neil had ‘signed’ with their team until the new season began. Considering his sway with the ERC, he’d even gotten the sport’s governing council to easily agree with that, claiming some nonsense about Neil being upset about what Andrew had done when he’d turned down Kevin.

As a skilled liar, Neil had to hand it to the man, Tetsuji knew how to work people.

He was in his room when one of the assistant coaches came for him, and for once he kept quiet as he followed the middle-aged man down the hallways which led to one of the lower level elevators which would take him to the East Tower. Immediately on his guard by that fact, Neil tried to think why he’d be required to go back to the ‘family’s’ tower, to the place he now knew was where they held ‘business’ meetings and was closed off to anyone who didn’t have the express permission of either Tetsuji or Kengo Moriyama to be there, and didn’t think he’d fucked up that badly in the last week or so. He’d received Tetsuji’s approval and been tattooed, after all. Surely his small defiance against Riko hadn’t been that bad?

Tetsuji was inside the large room overlooking the court, along with several guards, Patrick DiMaccio and a young Japanese man only a few years older than Neil. At Tetsuji’s curt motion, Neil slowly gave a slight bow, his attention on the young man standing in front of the windows and watching him with open curiosity.

“So this is Nathan Wesninski’s willful son?”

“Yes, my lord,” Tetsuji answered; since he was so young, Neil surmised that the man was Ichirou, Kengo’s oldest son.

“Interesting.” Ichirou approached Neil with the confidence of someone who expected to never be in any real danger, who expected all threats to be neutralized before they reached him and, upon seeing the wary gazes of the guards around them, Neil was certain they ensured that Ichirou was in good hands. There was also the fact that he could spy glimpses of a leather holster beneath the black suit jacket that the Moriyama heir wore since it was left unbuttoned, and what appeared to be a Glock tucked against Ichirou’s left ribs. “Do something about this hair,” he ordered as he reached out to tug on Neil’s overlong, light brown bangs while Neil did his best not to flinch.

Tetsuji said something quiet in Japanese, to which Ichirou replied in a more firm manner, then bowed his head. All the while Ichirou continued to examine Neil; he let go of Neil’s hair to grasp him by the chin and tilt up his head. “Number four, how fitting.”

“Yes, Riko said the same thing.”

Judging from how Tetsuji frowned and DiMaccio glared at him, Neil shouldn’t be talking, but a slight smile came across Ichirou’s face. “You are your father’s son, I see.” When Neil did flinch, his smile widened. “Don’t you like that?”

“I’m usually told I sound like my mother,” Neil explained. “Because of my attitude problem, I think.”

It sounded like DiMaccio muttered a curse then while Tetsuji spoke again in Japanese, but Ichirou continued to smile as he answered his uncle – Neil caught something about ‘red’ as the man’s fingers tightened on his chin.

“You are definitely your father’s child,” Ichirou said as he finally let go. “Let’s see how well you serve the family in upcoming years.”

There wasn’t much that Neil could say to that at the moment, not without digging himself even deeper into the grave, so he gave another curt bow and allowed the assistant coach who’d been waiting out in the hallway to return him to his room.

When Jean showed up for a few minutes to check on him before reporting to the locker room for the game, the Frenchman at first gaped at Neil and then sat down on his bed as if unable to stand. “ _Oh fuck_ ,” he swore in French. “ _This is… this is bad_.”

That wasn’t what Neil wanted to hear. “ _Ichirou didn’t appear offended_.”

Jean shook his head. “ _You don’t understand – Riko was handed over to Tetsuji not long after he was born, as the second son he’s effectively worthless to the main branch_. _He would give **anything** to get his father’s or brother’s attention, and here Ichirou calls for you_?”

That ‘worthless’ comment explained a lot about Riko’s numerous issues, but right now, Neil was worried about what everything meant for him. “ _He only seemed interested in me in regards to my father_.” He shuddered at the thought of being compared to the monster and having anything in common – it was bad enough to look in the mirror and see the man’s eyes staring back at him, to share so many similar features.

There was another of Jean’s weak, sorrowful laughs at that. “ _All Riko is going to care about is that you saw Ichirou and he didn’t. One hopes he doesn’t find out… but we are not that lucky_.” He shook his head as he stood up.

“Uhm, good luck,” Neil said as he stood up as well. “Tonight, I mean. The game.” Despite his looming future as a Raven, he only really cared about the night’s game because of Jean, because he knew winning it would go well for his partner – because it would go well for them. He meant it would go well for them.

That wrung a slight smile from the glum bastard. “Thank you. Stay out of sight and for once, no trouble?” When Neil rolled his eyes at that, Jean reached out with a slow hand and tousled Neil’s hair. “You can use my laptop to watch it, if you like.”

“Only because there’s nothing else for me to do.” Neil grinned at his roommate. “Or maybe I’ll download a bunch of viruses on your laptop. Sign you up for Welsh lessons, things like that, bring some _culture_ into your life.”

“I know I’m in hell,” Jean sniffed as he headed for the door. “I’m stuck with an uncouth _British_ oaf for a partner.”

Neil allowed him that parting shot to put him in a good mood for the game before he fetched the French bastard’s laptop.

It was always so quiet in the Nest despite having almost thirty people living there full-time and various staff walking around during the day; the Ravens were a subdued, focused team, a driven, disciplined team. Tetsuji had broken them down and reformed them into the image he wanted, him and Riko, and that was something little better than automatons, from what Neil could tell. Automatons with buried rage they were willing to unleash at the most convenient target, some of them.

The Ravens were the best players out there in Class I Exy and would win the game that evening, but it came at a high cost. Their days were dictated to them the entire time they were at Edgar Allan, and most of them would remain over the summer break and take part in an amped up schedule focused on nothing but Exy practice. They paired up so they were never alone, they strove to gain the ‘highest’ jersey number (a ten to nineteen, with the ‘holy grail’ being anything below a ten, which put them in Rico’s ‘Perfect Court’), and listened to the Moriyamas without question.

It went against everything that was _Neil_ , the whole Raven mindset. If he was smart, he should use something from past experiences, from past personas – a bit of Alex, a bit of Luca or Mathieu – all parts of him who knew to keep his head down and his mouth shut to get him through the next few years.

But he didn’t think he could do it. That he could let the Moriyamas mold him into a mindless money-making tool for the rest of his life (however long it was). It might be his own fault that he was here due to ignoring his mother’s warnings, for forgetting her hard-taught lessons, but she had least gone down fighting. Should he do any less?

He settled on his bed with Jean’s laptop and pulled up the game, and eventually got past the pre-game nonsense about teams and speculation about how well they’d do – a lot on it focusing on the fact that Kevin Day was no longer playing for the Ravens. A mixture of apathy and anger roiled in Neil’s chest whenever he heard that name; it was the reason he was stuck here in the Nest, the reason why Jean had suffered new scars and bruises, the reason why the Ravens were on tenterhooks around a psychotic, hair-trigger Riko.

There were several Ravens Neil suffered no fondness for, but some of them (the whole crazy mindset aside) he was learning weren’t too bad. Considering he was stuck with them for the next few years, he had to learn to live with them, and having an overgrown child throw abusive tantrums which affected everyone whenever a certain person’s name was mentioned didn’t help the situation.

The game finally started, and for a while Neil could forget the pain of his new wounds, the shitty situation he was in, the fact that he’d soon be hurting tomorrow (and the day after that) as the two best Class I Exy teams clashed on the court. The Trojans were good, were fast and meshed well together, had a strong ratio of women to men players who more than held their own, but they weren’t the Ravens. They didn’t possess the almost freakish synchronization between the players that had been forced down the Ravens’ throats by Tetsuji’s decrees on and off the court, by the players’ cult-like dedication to the game… nor did they do the sneaky little tricks here or there that went just under the radar of the referees which got the ball into the Ravens’ racquets.

Still, despite all of those things, the Trojans played a good enough game that Riko, Jean and the others had to remain on their toes until the fourth quarter, when the gap in points made it clear who would win. Neil had a feeling that Riko probably wasn’t going to be pleased with that, that he’d have wanted a more decisive victory to prove that he didn’t need Kevin, but he was still winning by four points in the end.

Neil knew that he was fucked up, that he had issues (it was a given, considering his parents and everything), but come on, _Riko_. How could anyone take one look at that psychopath and the fake smile on his face, and not drag him off to the nearest psych ward? Or better yet, put a bullet in his bran and save them all the trouble?

Once the game was over, Neil closed the browser since he wasn’t interested in any of the post-game interviews or analysis. For a moment he debated downloading something as a joke, but he wasn’t sure how amused Jean would find it and didn’t want to risk losing access to the laptop just yet – he should be getting his own soon, since he was officially registered for the fall at the university. Of course he hadn’t any say in his classes or degree, though after a very uncomfortable ten minute interrogation with Tetsuji where he’d discussed what had happened in the last eight years with his mother (some of which the man had known, after having people investigate their trail as much as possible), he’d been told he would major in Linguistics with a minor in Japanese.

Neil couldn’t argue too much with that, it was better than Business or English Lit, he supposed, but yet another sign of how much the Moriyamas controlled him.

He’d returned the laptop to Jean’s desk and was reading through an old French to Japanese dictionary when the door to the room opened. “ _Hey, congratulations_ ,” he called out as he looked up to smile at Jean – only for his expression to falter when he saw Riko. A rather displeased Riko, considering that he’d just won.

Neil set the book down and braced his battered body to run, but there weren’t any other exits in the room, just the one that Riko was blocking. There was the bathroom, but the lock on the door was flimsy as hell and a mere courtesy thing that would take a few seconds to break and wouldn’t be too difficult to pick.

“Congratulations,” Neil repeated in English. “What do you want?”

Riko gave him a cruel, tight-lipped smile for a moment. “There it is, that mouth of yours. What makes you think you’re so special?”

“I’m not,” Neil argued as he inched to the edge of the bed. “I’m nothing.”

Something dark flashed in Riko’s eyes as he leaned more into the room. “Yes, you’re right. _You’re nothing_. You’re whatever I say you are because I _own_ you. I’m your king. _Say it_.”

It looked as if Neil didn’t get a reprieve that night after all, and hoped that Jean was busy elsewhere for the next hour or so. “You’re a spoiled, psychotic brat whining for your daddy’s attention,” he said with a too-bright smile, and knew he’d be screaming because of those words when Riko’s eyes dilated a moment later.

Yet instead of pulling out his knife, Riko stepped aside and waved a few fifth and fourth year seniors into the room – Nichols, Bautista, Johnson and Federov. “I promised you a reward for a game well played, yes? Well, here it is.” He grinned at Neil as the young men approached him on the bed. “A present from your _king_. Enjoy.”

Neil’s mind blanked for a moment as the men approached, as the implication of Riko’s words sunk in, and then he lashed out with hands and legs to keep them away while Riko leaned against the wall to watch. But they were too many, were bigger and stronger and weren’t already worn down with injuries and constant beatings and exhaustion – they won out in the end.

But Neil never called Riko ‘ _king_ ’.

*******


	2. White Flag

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. Wow. First off, thanks so much to the response on this fic. Apparently people like Neil and Jean buddy fics. :-) (That's how I choose to see it). 
> 
> So, my thoughts on what's in this chapter (part one) - first, the Ravens' day. I sorta posted about this on Tumblr a while ago, and in this fic you're going to see the 16 hour day. But only during the holidays. Nora's extra content seems to indicate that it's all the time (referring to Jean's mentality on his time with the Ravens being that much longer than the years he really was with them), but I just... when you break it down, I just can't see how the Ravens can function on 16 hours days when the school year starts up. It'll mess them up come game time, which is NOT good for an athlete, not mention how do they attend classes? So here they only deal with it when on break to accelerate practice sessions during those short periods. 
> 
> Second - this is more Neil and Jean, this chapter, to help establish things in the Nest. More Andrew and the Foxes in the next chapter and ongoing.
> 
> Third - per the warnings above and what happened at the end of the last chapter, triggers for non-con through the chapter but nothing graphic, more for recovery and this will probably be one of the roughest chapters of the series. Any questions, ping me on tumblr - @nekojitachan.
> 
> (title is from Joseph's White Flag, it's not as bad as it seems)  
> *******

*******

Neil had managed to drag himself into the bathroom and was beneath the running water in the shower (it didn’t matter if he washed everything down the drain, did it?) when Jean returned to the room. He could hear the backliner out there despite the thin door and running water, and braced himself when the bathroom door opened a couple of minutes later.

Yet all Jean did was set something down on the floor, a clean towel and several other items. Neil watched his roommate with care from the corner of the shower stall as Jean, head bowed and eyes averted, retreated and closed the door without saying a word.

Neil stayed beneath the falling hot water for a while longer, until all the steam in the small room made it difficult to breathe and his battered body protested the tight crouch he’d forced it into, and finally unfurled enough to stand up and turn off the water. There were fresh trickles of blood from a few of his wounds, from ripped stitches and bite marks and down his legs, which he ignored as he grabbed the towel which Jean had left him (black, like everything else, and wouldn’t show the blood).

There were bandages, antibiotic and numbing crèmes, rubbing alcohol and the sewing kit, and a small blister pack of pain pills. Nothing too strong, just something to take the edge off yet not enough to let him overdose if he was so inclined to look for a way out.

For a moment Neil’s hands trembled and his eyesight grew bleary as he thought about the small bit of kindness before him, of Jean knowing what to gather for him. Then he stamped down hard on the emotions and set about pulling himself back together, to stitching up what needed stitched and tending to everything else, to making sure he could function as best possible. When that was all done, he only allowed himself one of the pain pills before he tugged on the clothes he’d grabbed before stumbling out of the bathroom.

Limping into the other room, he was surprised to find it… it looked normal. It looked as if- it looked normal. Jean must have spent the time cleaning it up, restoring order and airing it out and putting new linens on Neil’s bed.

It hurt to walk, but Neil forced himself to cross the dark room and to sit down on that bed, to not flinch both from the ache in his body and the memory of being pinned down on it just a short while ago. His breath caught for a moment as he imagined heavy weight on top of him, hands on his wrists and knees between his thighs, and then he shoved the memory aside.

Part of him wanted to get up and run, but there was nowhere to go. Part of him wanted to get up and curl in the far corner of the room, but he just had to push aside the pain and the fear and the images in his head. It wasn’t anything worse than what his father had done to him in his own bed as a child, right? The times when a furious Nathan had come in with a knife and left him sobbing on blood-stained sheets, new scars carved onto his young flesh because of whatever he’d done wrong during the day.

Nathaniel had slept in that bed, in that room in Baltimore, until he’d been ten years old. Neil could survive here for five years.

“ _I’m sorry_.”

The sound of that soft voice speaking in French jolted Neil from his thoughts and made him moan as his sore body tensed in reaction. “What?” It took his dazed mind a couple of seconds to catch up. “ _What did you say_?”

Jean sat up on his bed, his gaze still downcast. “ _I am sorry_.”

Despite everything that had happened in the last hour or so, Neil found himself laughing, even if the sound couldn’t be considered amused. “ _Why? You weren’t here when it happened_.”

“ _No, but I knew, as soon as Riko told me to stay away and I saw the others follow_.” Jean’s hands clenched into fists and he shook his head. “ _I knew_.”

Neil considered that for a moment before he sighed. “ _So what? Nothing you could have done_.” It would have been five men to one, after all, five against two if Jean had come when they reached the room. Neil certainly hadn’t been able to do much against four of them, so Jean wouldn’t have been any help.

“ _No, I could have_ -“ Jean let out a harsh breath as he looked up at Neil with a haunted expression. “ _I should have warned you better. Should have told you what your defiance would cost_.”

Neil thought back to the blister pack, the remains of which sat on his desk, to the rest of the things which Jean had left in the bathroom as if knowing well what Neil would need. He thought about that ‘worst’ Jean had alluded to a while ago, and felt a fresh wave of hatred for Riko. “ _It’s not your fault_ ,” he argued before slouching a little more down on the bed. “ _You tried_.”

That seemed to put Jean a little at ease. “ _It’s… it’s because you defy Riko, you know. If you just give in, if you stop fighting him, he won’t do it anymore_.” Something twisted in Jean’s expression as he spoke those words.

For a moment Neil wanted to ask Jean how he was so certain about that, but he was tired and in a lot of pain and not really in the mood for more revelations or even talking at the moment. “ _I’m not sure that’s something I can do, to be honest_.” Too much of his life revolved around not giving in, on forcing himself to push past the pain, to cling to the stubbornness and resolve and yes, spite inside of him which refused to let the bastards in his life win. If his father had every intention of selling him to the Moriyamas to become their well-behaved pet? Then fuck his father and fuck the Moriyamas.

Another weak, humorless chuckle slipped past Neil’s swollen and split lips just then as he closed his eyes and once more pushed all memories of the recent past out of his mind. He was good at things like that after so many years and so many scars.

Jean was quiet for about a minute before he turned out the lights in their room. “ _You are stubborn as a mule_.”

“ _I thought I was a Raven_ ,” Neil murmured as he draped his right arm over his eyes.

“ _You are a blithering fool_.”

Well, Neil couldn’t argue with that so he concentrated on the faint numbness from the pain pill and did his best to get some sleep. Not that he managed much, no more than an hour here and there between the nightmares, though he wasn’t the one waking up through the night gasping out in muddled French. Wasn’t the one asking ‘them’ to stop and saying ‘no’.

Neither he nor Jean said anything about their disturbed sleep in the morning; Jean gave him a glass of water to wash down another of the weak pills before tucking the remaining blister pack away, and they made their way to practice just like always despite the Ravens having won the championship game the previous night.

For the fifth year seniors, it would be their final day of practice before they graduated, and for a few Ravens (the ones in the ‘lower’ numbers, the least dedicated ones) it would be the final practice of the season. But most of the Ravens had chosen to remain behind for the brief summer break, to continue to hone their skills and prepare for the freshman players who would show up in another month. Technically Neil was supposed to be one of those, but instead he would spend the entire summer pushing himself to improve his game as much as possible before the end of August.

There were sly grins from Bautista, Nichols, Johnson and Federov that day, were quiet jabs when they were close enough to Neil so the other Ravens couldn’t overhear. Nichols told him that he hoped that Neil would ‘remember’ him well since the striker was graduating, while Federov taunted Neil in an attempt for him to piss off Riko again. As for the bastard himself, Riko smirked at Neil each time he slammed into him and knocked him down, each time he stole the ball away while Neil fumbled to make his abused body obey his commands and work while out on the court.

It wasn’t a surprise when Neil ended up spending the day doing drills with barely anything to eat, which was fine with him. The repetitive motion allowed him to focus on something other than the pain which plagued him and the awful thoughts in his head, allowed him to be away from everyone else. It gave Jean a chance to talk to him about something that didn’t have anything to do with his behavior or attitude or what had happened in their room, just his swing and the force behind those swings and was he blind or what? No wonder the British people didn’t appreciate art when they couldn’t see anything.

“Who needs art when we’re busy _winning_ wars,” Neil shot back as he scooped up the ball.

“Not all of them,” Jean argued. “Else we’d be enjoying a decent cup of tea here each morning.”

“We win the ones that _matter_.” Neil frowned as he struggled to get the hang of the third drill. “Seven Year War, Peninsular War, Crimean War… oh, wait, how did _you_ fair against the Russians, hmm?”

Jean’s pale grey eyes narrowed at him even as there was a slight quirk to the left corner of his mouth. “You are a loathsome creature.”

There wasn’t much Neil could say to that, either, so he hummed a little and did his best to knock over another cone, to exert some sort of normalcy in the latest fucked up turn his life had taken.

He didn’t know if he had Riko’s busy schedule of interviews and television shows over the next few days to thank for his ‘reprieve’, but the psychotic bastard was too busy to do more than knock him around for a short scrimmage or two in the morning. It was almost nice, to spend the accelerated, sixteen hour day of the Ravens’ holiday schedule focused on Exy, on doing everything he could to improve his skills as a striker under Tetsuji’s unforgiving and strict eye. It didn’t give him much time to focus on what had happened in the bedroom that night, on what it meant to be a Raven, on how the Moriyamas owned him.

At least, until Riko returned and once more asked Neil to call him king, to obey. That time it was just Federov, who smiled despite the punch Neil managed to land before slamming Neil’s head into the wall. After that…

After that, Jean once more slipped into the bathroom only long enough to leave him the necessary supplies to deal with the physical damage left by the Russian bastard, and actually had a cup of tea (Darjeeling) waiting for Neil when he limped into the bedroom. Neil didn’t say anything, just sipped his tea and accepted Jean’s invitation to sit on the other end of his roommate’s bed wrapped in a clean blanket while they watched an old Trojans and Lions game.

It was Federov and Bautista over a week later when Neil, despite a new row of stitches from Riko’s attention the night before, got the ball away from Riko and scored a goal using one of the bastard’s favorite tricks of bouncing it against the wall into the net (Jean had worked on that with him the last couple of days). He figured it was the combination of Tetsuji handing out a rare amount of praise and Ichirou supposedly being up in the East Tower that day. It was bad enough that Jean had to help him into the shower to wash off, then patch up a couple of the scrapes on his back while Neil struggled not to flinch or throw up.

“ _Are you trying to get yourself killed_?” Jean asked, his voice hoarse and hands trembling as he handed over two pills that night.

Neil’s lips twisted into a parody of a smile. “ _I’m not that lucky_.” If he was, he’d have died instead of his mother that night back in California, would have been the one whose ashes were part of some quiet beach or washed out into the ocean by now, no memorial other than an endless horizon and the sound of crashing waves.

Envy wrapped around his heart for a moment, gave it a painful squeeze before a more familiar sense of loss and guilt took over as he thought about his mother, about how he wished she was there to lay behind him so he could sleep at night, to yell at him for being stupid and slap him and pull on his hair and dig sharp nails into his arms until he started thinking straight.

All he had was a muttering Frenchman who finished tending to his latest wounds and handed him a lukewarm cup of tea and a soft blanket so they could watch something together while on Jean’s bed, a few inches between them. “ _Something… something other than Exy_ ,” Neil murmured as he held the mug between his own trembling hands. All too soon they would need to be up and face another too-short day of practice and torture, so he wanted something else as a distraction.

“Hmm.” Jean seemed to think for a moment before he pulled up a file. “ _I can’t… they monitor where we go online, but this was for a class,_ ” he tried to explain as the old French movie started to play.

“ _That’s fine_ ,” Neil assured him, “ _it’s fine_.” And for a short while it was, as the tea settled his stomach and the pills made the pain seem a little removed, as the movie gave him something to focus on enough that he fell asleep for a little bit. At least until the nightmares started and he realized he was still on Jean’s bed, curled up at the bottom of it with Jean tucked up at the top in a position clearly meant to leave him enough space to sleep.

Neil forced himself to go back to his own bed for the couple of remaining hours they had before the ‘day’ would start again.

He continued with his defiance against Riko, against the attempts to make him ‘obey’, to make him a proper Raven. Struggling when they dyed his hair back to red earned him bruised ribs and lashings on his back, and there were a line of cuts on his upper thighs from mouthing off to Riko. Sometimes he wondered himself if it was worth it, the overwhelming sense of exhaustion and gnawing ache of hunger from the skipped meals and extra time spent out on court for not only him but Jean as well as they dealt with additional drills and cleaning the court at the end of the ‘day’, but he refused to let the Moriyamas win. He refused for his mother’s death to be in vain.

“ _You are a curse_ ,” Jean muttered as they stumbled into the locker room after having cleaned up the court for the sixth ‘night’ in a row. “ _It is fitting, that red hair of yours, because you are the devil_.”

“ _Oh, well, good for me, then, considering what happens to your people’s saints._ ” Neil summoned a weak smile for the glare his roommate sent his way. Right then he didn’t care about the open showers anymore, he just wanted to stand beneath a fall of the endless amount of hot water available in the Nest (one of the very few good things in the place) and let the heat work on some of the soreness which had soaked into his muscles and bone.

Except Riko, Federov, Bautista and Johnson were waiting for them in the locker room, the former with that cruel smirk on his face and the latter with anticipation gleaming in their eyes. Neil stepped in front of Jean as he motioned for his roommate to leave.

“Riko, how unpleasant to see you tonight.” He might as well hurry up and get things started – the sooner they did, the sooner Jean could put him together again.

Except Johnson moved to block Jean while Riko’s smile took on a sharper edge. “I must say, not even I expected you to hold out this long, Nathaniel, but then again, you were toughened up somewhat before you came here.” He motioned at Neil’s chest, at the myriad scars hidden beneath his sweaty uniform.

“That’s right,” Neil agreed as he pushed down the hatred he felt upon hearing his real name. “And you? You’re nothing like my father.”

Riko clicked his tongue as he stepped forward while Jean remained still and glanced back and forth between him and Neil. “See, that’s exactly the thing I can’t have when the freshmen arrive in two more days, that mouth of yours spouting off such fire. So I’m giving you one last chance, _Nathaniel_. Acknowledge me as your king or else.”

Neil gave him a cold smile as he braced himself for what would come next. “Haven’t you heard that saying about what it makes you when you expect a different outcome after so many times?”

“Yes I have, which is why we’re doing something different _this_ time.” Riko waved at Jean. “Jean hasn’t done his job in teaching you your proper place, so _he’ll_ pay the price.”

Jean paled upon hearing that and for a moment Neil thought he would object, that he would say something or put up some sort of fight, but then he merely bowed his head as Johnson and Federov walked toward him, as Bautista grabbed Neil by the arms to hold him still. “You’ll watch and see what your insolence has cost you,” Riko said with a wide smile. “You’ll stay here the entire time.”

Neil struggled against Bautista’s grip while Federov complained about Jean’s lack of fire, and cursed when his arm was wrenched at him kicking the bastard backliner. “Stop this,” he told Riko when it was clear that Jean wouldn’t fight back.

“No, it’s time you learn your lesson.”

“Stop it, _please_ ,” Neil tried as he swallowed his pride, unwilling to allow Jean to suffer because of him.

That one word made Riko hold up his hand, which in return made Federov and Johnson still for at least the moment. “What was that?” He smirked at Neil. “What were you saying?”

For a moment something inside of Neil rebelled, made him want to spit in the bastard’s face and keep quiet, to keep on fighting. Yet Jean stood there with Johnson's and Federov's hands on his arms and a blank expression on his face as if he was already preparing himself for the worst, was drawing inward to disassociate himself from what would happen next.

For a moment Neil hesitated... and then he thought about his mother, thought about how he hadn't been able to save her, how all he had been able to do was leave her behind, to bury her in the middle of nowhere as if she hadn't mattered at all, to fail her one last time, and he found his voice. "I said please stop, _king_."

Riko's face lit up upon hearing those words and he stepped closer to Neil. "Say it again while on your knees, Nathaniel."

"No," Jean breathed out even though it was what he'd been telling Neil to do ever since he'd arrived at the Nest.

Pushing down the hate and anger he felt, Neil knelt on the ground with a slight wince of pain from the various bruises and pull of stitches. "Please, let him go, king," he said as he looked up at Riko, his voice flat and emotionless - he couldn't find it within himself to make it any more pleading than that.

Riko laughed as he reached down to grab a handful of Neil's hair. "You won't forget this moment, will you, number 4? Won't forget who owns you, who you obey?"

"No," Neil lied with ease; he'd do whatever he had to in order to keep Jean safe since he was responsible for his partner, would do whatever he had to in order to survive the next several years, but Riko was only something to be endured, nothing more.

"Good boy," the bastard crooned as he yanked hard on Neil's hair, the smile slipping from his face. "Let Jean go," he ordered even as he back-handed Neil.

There was a moment's silence as Neil's head rocked to the side, followed by retreating footsteps before Neil was slapped again. All that mattered to Neil just then was that Jean was gone, that the Frenchman was (mostly) untouched before Riko reinforced the 'lesson'.

All in all, Neil got off easy that night - two black eyes, a split lip, the need for some more stitches. Bautista, Federov and Johnson weren't too happy, but it looked as if Jean was right in the end about Riko not being so amused when the toy didn't care (or in Neil's case, offered himself up for it). That he was in a rare good mood about something.

Jean was still waiting up for him despite the fact that they only had a few more hours left before 'morning' came around (Neil had no idea what the real time was anymore, no idea what time it was out in the real world), the med kit sitting beside him on the bed. As soon as the door closed behind Neil, he jumped up from his bed and took a step forward before stopping. "Did...."

Neil shook his head. "It was just Riko," he answered, having an idea of what Jean was asking.

"I see." Jean motioned for him to sit down in his chair, where a towel was already placed. "I hope you didn't bleed all over the hall."

"And have the cleaning staff upset with me, along with everyone else?" Neil moved his left hand from his chest to show the black washcloth pressed against the latest cuts, beneath yet another torn shirt. It was a good thing that the university or Moriyamas were stuck supplying him with the things.

"For a stubborn devil, you have your moments." Jean left to go into the bathroom and returned with a few wet washcloths a minute later; one was pressed against Neil's chest to loosen the bloodstained one, the others draped over his sore face with the stern order to leave them there. That left Neil's vision obscured, but to his surprise... to his surprise, he trusted Jean.

It had crept up on him, that emotion, but in the month or more he'd been in the Nest (his sense of time was more than screwed up, due to the sixteen hour summer days and the lack of sun and everything), Jean had proven himself as reliable. It was more than the whole Raven partnership thing, was more than him being a backliner to Neil's striker. It was the fact that he was the only person who knew what Neil was going through, knew what it meant to be a Moriyama asset, to feel the pain of being beneath the sharp edge of Riko's knives, beneath Riko's madness and obsession. He knew what it meant to be a possession and treated as such.

Neil would do whatever he had to in order to survive the Nest, but something told him he would manage it much better if he had someone at his back - it's what had gotten him through eight years on the run, after all. Well, had gotten him through most of those eight years. It was when he’d lost his mother than he had broken down, had lost his focus and impetus. That lesson had been learned the hard way and he wouldn't forget it this time. Judging by the way that Jean had done his best to warn Neil and help him out, he would say that Jean realized that he couldn't go on alone for much longer, either.

Not that it was a given, that two such messed up individuals could function well together, but apart they were nothing.

And Neil was so tired of being _nothing_.

Jean cursed a little as he tended to the latest cuts, stitching them up with a quickness that would have done Neil's mother proud. "Try not to leave a scar," Neil murmured, which earned him a pinch to his left side.

"When is it ever said that you British are funny?"

"Monty Python," Neil shot back; he might not be up on many popular things, but he knew that much.

"Bah, a bunch of ugly men dressing as women and speaking in shrill voices as they walk about oddly," Jean sneered as he shifted about the damp clothes on Neil's face to check his eyes. "Talking about ugly, you need an ice pack or you're going to scare the freshmen."

"As if that's going to help any," Neil argued as he thought about how much he looked like his father now, what with his hair dyed back to its natural color and his eyes no longer hidden by contacts.

Jean gave him an odd look as he got up to fetch an ice pack from the small fridge in their room which didn't hold anything other than sports drinks and water (supposedly if Neil ever stopped antagonizing Riko, there was hope of some snacks) - and ice packs for any injuries. Muscle sprains and things like that, but funny how more often than not, Neil and Jean were using them for Riko-inflicted bruises.

Jean wrapped one of the packs in a small towel then brought it to the chair, his eyes downcast as he handed it to Neil. " _You... you shouldn't have done that_ ," he said once Neil accepted the cold bundle. " _Back there. Now he knows what to use against you_."

Neil was quiet for a few seconds as he fit the pack across the bridge of his aching nose. " _I wasn't going to allow you to be punished for something that's my fault_."

Jean gave an elegant one-shouldered shrug, his gaze still focused on the floor. " _Why not? It wouldn't have been the first time something like that had happened_."

For a moment Neil felt a fresh wave of hatred for Riko - for Riko and he suspected Kevin Day as well as he thought about the few times Jean had mentioned the absent striker, as he recalled the warnings to never mention him.

" _I may be a fool and a liar_ ," Neil admitted, " _but I don't let others take my own beatings if I can help it_." He thought of all the times his mother had stepped in between him and his father, between him and his father's people like DiMaccio and shuddered. " _No. No more_."

Jean finally looked up at him, his expression a mix of understanding and pity. " _You gave too much away._ "

" _No, not quite_." Neil offered him a lopsided smile. " _Riko just thinks he got me to finally come to heel, that's all. I'll call him king to his face, but I'll never mean it_."

" _You..._." Jean stared at him for a couple of seconds then began cleaning up the mess from stitching him up. " _I have no words for your foolishness. Go to bed_." Yet there was a lightness to his movements as he went about the room that hadn't been there before that let Neil know he wasn't as bothered as he tried to project.

The next morning came all too soon, and it wasn't surprising that Riko made Neil 'acknowledge' him out on the court before the start of the practice.  Yet for all the bitter taste in his mouth, Neil had Jean at his back and a few less bruises by the time he was sent off to work on the drills, and allowed to break for lunch for the first time in… well, allowed to break for lunch. Jean gave him an arch look for that as they entered the locker room, and got a sweaty jersey thrown at his smug face in return.

It was difficult, so difficult, to keep the insults bottled inside, to not let Riko know what Neil truly felt about him, but all Neil had to do was think about Jean standing either at his right side or just behind him, to notice how Riko would give a potent glance at his partner before he swallowed those barbed words and bowed his head. It wasn't that much different from how things had been back in Baltimore, really, when he had to remain quiet and good whenever his father was around, had to do whatever was necessary to avoid setting off the man's volatile temper. And really? Riko wasn't anywhere near Nathan Wesninski's league, was a pale imitation of _that_ monster. Neil had survived ten years with the Butcher, he could breeze through five at the Nest - even if the accelerated days during breaks would make it feel longer than that.

He stood off to the side of the court and watched on in silence with Jean next to him as the 'freshmen' walked out onto the Edgar Allan stadium for the first time and felt so... so _old_. By then he'd been at the Nest long enough that his tan from living in Arizona was fading, leaving his skin pale once more from the lack of sun.

He'd be able to go outside of the Nest once classes started up, at least for a little while each day. To think that once he'd traveled hundreds of miles in a day, and now he was trapped on this campus unless he left with Riko and Tetsuji for a game. There wasn't an actual collar around his neck, but he felt one all the same.

There were four new 'teammates' gawking at the black and red stadium seats up above and all around; two young men and two young women to replace the recently graduated fifth year seniors and Jean's former partner, who had left Edgar Allan due to his career ending 'injury'. Technically Neil was one of them, too, but he felt so far apart from the other teenagers due to the fact that his training was already under way and that unlike them, he wasn't here by his own choice. _He_ wouldn't be free after five years.

"Backliner, goalie, striker, defensive dealer," Jean told him in a quiet voice as Tetsuji and Riko came out on court. "They won't see a minute of game-time until their second year, if that."

No, not with over twenty other players fighting for a chance to prove themselves and earn a starting position. Not after already losing a starting position to one 'rookie'.

The kids now appeared star-struck to see Riko in person, which brought a slight, pleased smile to their psycho captain’s face. He nodded to them while Tetsuji stood there all stoic as usual, and after a couple of minutes, Riko motioned to the gathered Ravens. "These are your new teammates." Neil could tell when they noticed him since he and Jean were at the start of the line, per their ‘higher’ numbers; their eyes went wide at the sight of his ‘4’ tattoo and that number on the front of his jersey. "Edwin Ross, sub goalie, number 31. Marley Patel, sub striker, number 32.  Megan Curtis, sub defensive dealer, number 33. Jonathan Mills, sub backliner, number 34." Each of the mentioned freshmen nodded as they were named - Ross had a stocky build which would do well to help him in the goal, Patel was tall enough to make Neil sigh and possessed striking looks which had several of the older Ravens smiling at her, Curtis seemed a little uncomfortable with the attention and ducked her head while Mills grinned at everyone.

“ _It’s going to be a bloodbath_ ,” Jean whispered as he shifted closer to Neil. “ _They are even worse than babes in the woods_.”

Neil didn’t allow any emotion to show on his face and made sure to give Riko a respectful nod when the bastard called out his name; he caught the startled looks from the freshmen upon them hearing it and cursed Andrew Minyard once again. “ _What do you mean_?” he asked once Riko was a few Ravens down the line.

“ _The boys, too cocky, the girls, too pretty. It’s not often when Tetsuji recruits two of them a season, either. The others will be eager to teach them their proper places_ ,” Jean murmured as he tapped his fingers against the helmet held cradled in his arms.

“ _But they’re recruits_ ,” Neil argued, his voice pitched just as soft. They weren’t property.

“ _That just means it won’t be Riko doing the worst of the damage, at least not at first_.”

On one hand, Neil didn’t understand the Nest and the way that many of the Ravens tore at each other as if literal birds fighting over the same piece of carrion. On the other hand… well, they were human, and the one thing Neil did know very well was that there wasn’t much that people wouldn’t stoop to when it came to cruelty if given half the chance.

So he put his helmet on and focused on the day’s practice session.

*******

“Dammit, are you even trying?”

“Fuck you, of course I am! Why the hell do you think I’m out here sweating my balls off? For the hell of it?”

“You’d have to be _doing_ something to sweat – something other than being a miserable failure!”

“Fuck you! I’m trying, dammit!”

Andrew flipped up the visor of his goalie mask then tugged off his massive gloves so he could wipe at the sweat beaded on his forehead while he watched Kevin and Yee scream at each about halfway down the court; his large racquet was within reach and there was a ball still left in the goal which he could fling at Yee’s head if the moron decided to take another swing at Kevin like he’d down a week ago.

So far, having a knife shoved in his stomach and a promise that the next one would be buried in his liver seemed to have taught the temperamental moron to keep his hands to himself. So far. Andrew had every intention of seeing the promise through, so Yee best have a better memory than impulse control.

He certainly didn’t have much skill on the Exy court, judging from the last couple of weeks of practice.

Aaron dropped first his own racquet then his helmet onto the court floor before coming over to lean on the other side of Andrew’s goal. “Think this’ll be it for the day?” He actually sounded hopeful for once.

“We’re not halfway through practice yet,” Andrew said with a mocking smile as he shook his head. “Day still has at least another hour to rail against futility and bash his head against the wall that’s Yee’s ineptitude.”

“Just great.” Aaron’s face twisted in annoyance as he tugged at the front of his sweaty jersey. “Why do _we_ have to be here for this again? At least you’re mostly standing there doing nothing.”

Before Andrew could answer, Nicky wandered over as well. “Should he be yelling at the poor kid like that? If he keeps it up, Kenny’s going to run off, too.”

“If he’s smart, he’d follow Josten’s example,” Aaron huffed. “Run as far away from this shitty team as possible.”

Andrew’s eyes narrowed at mention of Josten while Nicky groaned. “Aw come on, we’re not that bad! We actually have a shot this year with Kevin and everything.”

“Right, when we still have Gordon on the team and now with a kid who can’t get a ball past _you_ half the time.” Aaron scoffed while Nicky glared at him. “We’re the stuff of legends.”

Meanwhile, Kevin and Yee had stopped screaming at each other long enough for Kevin to notice the three of them just standing around the goal. “What the hell are you doing? Get your gear back on and into your positions!”

Andrew flipped him off with a flat look while Nicky scurried to obey and Aaron yawned before heading back to his spot near the front of the goal; Andrew found some amusement in drawing out pulling back on his gloves and helmet while Kevin grew visibly annoyed and Yee smirked beside him, and once in the middle of the goal, practice resumed.

Well, it was more standing around for Andrew, because as Aaron had pointed out, Yee had trouble getting past Aaron and Nicky to attempt to score a point, and Andrew didn’t bother to block Kevin’s assaults on the goal. He didn’t give a shit about summer ‘practice’, he was just there to keep an eye on Kevin and his family, not to work out.

Besides, Kevin had his hands full already with Yee, who was torn between soaking in everything Kevin could teach him and pushing down his stubborn pride long enough to do just that. The two strikers broke out into a fight a couple times a day, and Yee had tried to start something with Nicky and Aaron only one time.

Renee might be on to something with all that smiling she did, since Andrew had smiled at Yee when he told him to never touch Aaron or Nicky again as well. Hmm, the racquet pressed against his throat at the same time choking off his air might have had something to do with it, too.

Andrew didn’t think Yee liked him very much, what a shame. He supposed it was only fair, since he felt nothing but mild annoyance for the rookie.

Yee managed to get past Aaron and Nicky twice in the next hour (but not past Andrew) and in one more fight with Kevin before Wymack put an end to their practice for the day. Andrew trailed along as the strikers stomped off to the locker room to wash off the day’s sweat and bad attitude, while Nicky talked in an excited manner about only three more days until Friday and a night at Eden’s.

A disgruntled looking Wymack was stuck taking a surly Yee home with him (Andrew would have to swing by later, since he was certain the man had to be buying alcohol in bulk in order to put up with housing the temperamental brat for the summer), which left Andrew with his crew of ‘monsters’. Kevin had laid claim to the passenger seat while Nicky and Aaron were sprawled out in the back of the GS, so Andrew lit a cigarette before sliding behind the wheel of the car to drive them back to Abby’s.

“He’s never going to be ready in time for fall,” Kevin complained as he glared at something on the road ahead. Lately the Exy junkie seemed obsessed about that fact, even more so than usual.

As if Andrew cared – oh, wait, he was well and truly bored with this song already. “Too bad. Welcome to the real world and wallow in the mediocrity with the rest of us,” he told the asshole.

“Andrew,” Nicky groaned while Aaron snorted in amusement. “Don’t listen to the grouch, Kevin. Kenny’s improving a little, he got past us a few times today!”

“Because you were too lazy and it’s too hot to move,” Aaron said as he played with his phone.

“No, I was trying!”

“You were-“

Bored already with the conversation, Andrew blasted the radio for a couple of seconds to put an end to it then smiled up at the rear view mirror at his family’s glares. “The thing is, you seem to think _I_ care,” he informed Kevin in a sing-song tone of voice. “And I don’t. In fact, I think it’ll somewhat amusing to watch your little protégé fail the moment he steps out on court for our first real game.”

“He’s taller than you so not so little,” Kevin muttered, which earned a harsh jerk to the steering wheel that made three of the car’s inhabitants swear as they grabbed on to something to prevent sliding about while Andrew continued to grin.

“Wasn’t that fun? Look, I can be amusing, too.”

“For a psycho,” Aaron bitched, which earned him a finger held up in his direction but Andrew didn’t argue.

Kevin let out a shaky breath as he scrubbed his hands over his face, his left one trembling a little. “He’s not terrible, but he’s just not focused enough. He lets himself get angry and distracted, he doesn’t give enough to his game. We need someone more dedicated if we’re going to make it to the semi-finals this season, someone who cares.” He hesitated for a moment. “Someone like Josten.” Lately Kevin had been obsessing about that ‘lost’ opportunity, too.

Andrew was getting awfully tired of hearing that name, considering that they’d known the kid all of twenty minutes. “You had your shot at him and blew it,” he said as he took the turn onto Abby’s street fast enough to make the tires screech and Aaron curse. “Unless you master the trick of pulling a rabbit out of a magician’s hat, I don’t want to hear that name again.”

“But-“

Slamming on the brakes in the middle of the road did wonders for getting a stubborn Exy junkie’s attention. “Did I stutter?” he asked Kevin with a sliver of a grin.

“No,” Kevin answered with a quick jerk of his head, his face so pale that his ‘2’ tattoo stood out as if embossed on his cheek.

“Then we’re in agreement.” He waited to see if the coward would argue with him and, after a curt nod, resumed driving the remaining half a block to Abby’s house where everyone else scurried out of the car as soon as it was parked.

He remained outside to have a cigarette, a slow itch building in his skull and gnawing ache in his body warning him that he’d have to take another pill soon, something he was willing to put off for a little longer. Right then he wanted to enjoy the (mostly) quiet air of the neighborhood before people returned home from work and the kids from their day camps or wherever their parents pawned them off until evening, the relative coolness of the shadows beneath the overhang of the garage and the first bit of solitude he had that day.

Neil fucking Josten. It had been almost two months since he’d seen the idiot rabbit, since Josten had run away, and Andrew still couldn’t get the kid out of his head. Of course it didn’t help when Kevin wouldn’t stop harping about the phantom striker, about how the Foxes would be so much better if Josten had signed instead of Yee (something Yee didn’t appreciate when he’d overheard that statement, thanks to Day’s amazing lack of tact – Andrew had rarely seen Wymack so pissed off at a Fox before, but Day had done it).

Amazing, how one person could fuck up the Foxes without even having to be near them. It certainly didn’t help Andrew’s suspicions about the kid… but there wasn’t anything he could do about it, could he? Not when he was stuck in South Carolina looking after Day and his family, and no one had seen Josten since the first half of April. Just another mystery, it seemed.

It wouldn’t bother Andrew so much if the whole thing didn’t scream ‘suspicious as fuck’ to him – no one disappeared like that without a lot of effort on someone’s part. However, there really wasn’t anything Andrew could do about it, could he?

Next week the rest of the Foxes would arrive and Andrew would have to deal with Gordon and Reynolds and Wilds, along with Yee added to the mix. Well, technically Yee would be Renee’s mess to deal with as Andrew didn’t give a shit about the kid, and she better deal with him soon.

Andrew took another long, deep drag on the cigarette and for a moment allowed the weariness he felt to press him against the garage door behind him before he pushed away the same time he blew out a plume of smoke.

Time to make sure that the morons weren’t up to no good inside and see what Abby had failed at making for dinner, maybe get some rest before Kevin dragged him back to the court to sit there while the junkie smacked around some balls. Andrew flicked the butt of the cigarette aside once he reached the steps leading to the front door and plotted on when he could hit Wymack’s place up for some more alcohol.

*******

Neil frowned as he sat down on the bench next to Jean and accepted a water bottle from his partner with a slight nod; now that he had mastered a good bit of the Ravens’ drills, he was allowed to spend more time on the court to work with the rest of the team and Jean to improve his over-all skills. He didn’t feel that he was worth the ‘4’ on his cheek yet, but he knew he was a lot better than he’d been back in Millport.

That didn't mean the rest of the Ravens were taking it any easier on him, weren't quick to trip him up on the court, to knock their racquets into his ribs or shove him into the wall if they had the chance, but those chances were happening a little less now, and he caught a bit of grudging respect from a few of them. It didn't mean they wouldn't tear him down and take the number '4' away from him within a second if they could, but he had finally been accepted as one of them.

He wasn't certain how he felt about that, to be honest. Before it had always been him and his mother against the world, always the two of them on the run, always them against his father. Now he had a place where he 'belonged' (where he had no choice but to stay), where he was doing what he'd always loved, and if he didn't like the people here then he could at least understand them. They were giving everything they had to play Exy, too, were pinning their hopes on a pro career and being among the best at this violent, thrilling sport.

Well, everyone except Jean, who thought they were all a bunch of fools, Neil reminded himself with a slight smile.

" _Saunders isn't happy with your right now_ ," Jean remarked as he opened a bottle of water for himself, his eyes appearing downcast but flickering in the direction of the tall, upperclassman striker for a moment before he had some to drink.

" _Hmm, give me a moment to work up some concern_ ," Neil said right before he sipped his water. " _Ah, no, it's not working._ "

" _Because you are a grand fool and a devil_." Jean sighed and shook his head, his black hair held back from his forehead by a red bandana, much like Neil’s (detested) now auburn curls. " _He outweighs even me_."

" _So? I'm not wrestling him_."

" _No, you're just making him look bad in front of the master_." Jean flicked the fingers of his left hand in an elegant motion as if dismissing Neil from his life. " _I don't need a constant reminder that I'm cursed_."

" _Well, you are French, one would think that's terrible enough_ ," Neil mused aloud.

Jean sighed as his fingers clenched around the half-empty water bottle. " _I so very much hate my life_ ," he said through gritted teeth, " _and you in particular_."

Neil smiled at his partner and gave him a quick nudge in the shoulder. " _Thank you_."

Naomi Archer and Leif Hebig, offensive dealer and backliner respectively, gave the two of them an odd look when Jean took to swearing in French and Japanese beneath his breath, to which Neil merely nodded back in return. Leif shrugged and looked away while Naomi smiled and shook her head; Neil had learned from the other Ravens that Jean had a reputation for being a bit 'aloof', that he didn't associate much with anyone other than Riko and his old partners... and Kevin. That he'd been very quiet after Kevin had left, even more so once Jamie had gone. Neil suspected some of the Ravens' improved attitude toward him not only had to do with his increased skills on the court but the fact that he and Jean appeared to be getting along.

Of course, there were some Ravens who weren't pleased with that, the ones who would like nothing better than to become the new '3' and '4', and those ones Neil was only so happy to tear down in return. He might have his hands tied in regards to Riko, but everyone else on the team was fair game.

And when he had the opportunity to tear them down while making Riko look good? Well, he might still be learning some stuff when it came to Exy, but there were a lot of things the Ravens could learn from _him_.

Neil and Jean were put back onto the court soon enough, where Neil remained quiet as Tetsuji explained the new play to Riko's team and didn't flinch when that bastard gave him a 'friendly' pat on the back hard enough to reverberate through his padding. Once the game began, Neil gave in to the thrill as always, the burn of muscles flexing and stretching and senses pushed to the max, of searching for the ball while being aware of everyone around him at the same time. He got the ball before Cornell could catch it and whirled around, aware of the opposing team coming for him, of Saunders only a few feet away, and ran toward the goal. When the other striker charged at him, he twisted about in a manner that let his feet go out from under of him in a controlled slide while throwing the ball at Riko (he _always_ knew where Riko was), which of course knocked the end of his racquet into Saunders' gut while the asshole went tumbling down hard.

Riko made the goal, as intended, Neil got up and back in the game with only a new bruise or two, and Saunders was left gasping on the hard floor. Tetsuji gave Neil an appraising look for a moment then nodded once, Jean shook his head as if in despair, and Saunders had to sit out the rest of the game.

Riko came over to Neil when it was time for him to resume practicing drills. "A little flashy, but not bad." His smile took on the sharp edge which always made Neil wary. "You're finally learning, number 4." His fingers dug into the gap left open in Neil's armor to bore into aching shoulder muscles. "Nice to see that Jean's doing his job."

"Jean always does his job," Neil said in a quiet voice while his partner stood there with his head bowed.

"Such a shame if he doesn't, no?" Riko's fingers curled a little more before he walked away.

The two of them stood there for a couple of seconds before Jean let out his breath. "Come, let's go. I want you to know all of these drills by the end of the season."

"And how long does it normally take people to learn them?" Neil asked, only for Jean to give his normal answer, which was to reach out and push at the '4' tattoo on Neil's cheek.

"I'm beginning to feel a bit of that 'cursed' myself," Neil muttered as he twirled his racquet between his gloved hands.

By way of an answer, Jean took to whistling La Marseillaise while he set up the cones.

While his suddenly cheerful partner (which never was a good sign) went about preparing things for the next couple of hours of 'tormenting the British rookie', Neil glanced over the court and took in a fresh group of Ravens playing under Tetsuji's judgmental eye while further down the court McPherson and Loiseau had the thankless task of working with the freshmen.

Neil tapped the bottom of his racquet against the wooden floor when Ross fumbled the pass of what looked to be the first drill. "They haven't moved on to the second drill yet?"

Jean looked up from the cones to glance down the court and shrugged. "I believe the girls are managing the first one somewhat, but the boys aren't."

"I didn't think it was that difficult." At least, not compared to the latter ones.

He gave Neil's jersey a pointed look. "There's a wealth of difference between a '4' and a '30'," Jean told him in a grave manner. “And you have had additional motivation.”

"I'm not a '4', not really," Neil argued while he chose to ignore that comment about motivation and held onto his racquet as if to have the stick prop him up.

"Not yet," Jean agreed. "But you will be soon. The master's right in that you have the potential." Then he sniffed in derision. "It's just buried under stupidity. Layers and layers of it."

Neil smiled at his partner. "What can I say, you bring it out in me."

"I do not deserve this," Jean murmured as he cast his gaze skyward - well, at the roof of the stadium. "Truly I don't."

"Obviously someone disagrees," Neil said as he hefted his racquet.

"Have I mentioned yet today that you're the devil?"

"Hmm, no, I don't think so. At least, not in the past ten minutes?"

"Well you are, now get to work." Jean glared at him and gestured at the arranged cones. "No mistakes or there will be the penalty."

"I'm not the only 'devil' here," Neil felt it should be known, while a slight smile hovered on Jean's lips.

The 'penalty' was something Jean had decided upon to help 'inspire' Neil (as if avoiding Tetsuji's displeasure - usually made known at the end of his cane - wasn't enough) to learn the drills even faster. For every flubbed shot after a couple of ‘days’ spent learning the basic principles of the drill, he had to sing La Marseillaise out loud while on the court.

Neil wasn't a very good singer.

Needless to say, the rest of the Ravens, especially Riko, were amused as hell. At first the teasing made Neil angry, until he realized that it made Jean look good, made it look as if his partner was enforcing his seniority over Neil when it was more of a harmless prank, so Neil pretended to be offended and glowered a bit over all the 'croaking Raven' jabs.

If there was one thing he was learning about his 'team', it was that in everything they did, there was a sharp competitive edge, was that drive to succeed, to win, to be the best. Some people seemed willing to be friends with him, but in the end, he knew their main focus was Exy.

He couldn't blame them when his main goal was to survive. Perhaps it wasn’t that lofty or ambitious, but considering that he had a psychopath hounding him and his father’s people keeping an eye on him… surviving was good. If by some chance he managed a successful career in Exy on top of all that? Well, he didn’t want to get ahead of things.

At least he only had to sing the damn French national anthem twice in the next hour before Jean nodded in approval and pronounced him ready to move on to the next drill. “ _Soon you’ll be done slaughtering such a beautiful song_ ,” the bastard declared.

“ _Slaughter this_ ,” Neil told him with a smile as he held up two of his gloved fingers in a rude gesture, mindful to keep his back turned to the rest of the Ravens.

“Shall I add Frère Jacques to it?” Jean asked with a slight smile as he went to readjust the cones, which prompted a faint whine from Neil.

Leaning against his racquet while he waited for the next round of torture to begin, Neil flexed his legs to work out a bit of stiffness from exertion and bruises (and healing scars) while he once more checked out the progress of the four freshmen. Ross was still having a problem with his aim on the drills (not surprising since he was a goalie and probably wasn’t used to such fine precision), Mills appeared frustrated when the ball didn’t go where he wanted it to go, Curtis managed a couple of good passes and then two bad ones when Loiseau stepped in as if to correct her grip for some reason, and Patel was too busy watching the burly backliner to pay attention to the cones in front of her. Neil frowned as he took in the tension in the girls’ bodies, the wariness on their faces and the way that McPherson was paying more attention to the older Ravens practicing than to the four rookies she was supposed to be supervising which wasn’t like her – she usually followed orders to the letter, which had earned her a higher number.

Jean noticed where he was looking once the cones were set up and sighed loud enough to be heard. “ _There’s nothing you can do_ ,” he warned. “ _Best to ignore it_.”

Something twisted inside of Neil upon hearing those words. “ _And what would I be ignoring, hmm?_ ” His lips pressed together and his hands clenched around his racquet at the sight of Patel flinching from Loiseau, for a moment the tall, dark-haired girl replaced by an image of his mother. “ _Tell me what’s going on._ ”

Jean was quiet for a moment as he came over to stand next to him. “ _Everyone has to learn to stand for themselves. If they’re a higher number, a more valuable recruit, they have more support. Some of them might have a sibling or know someone, a former teammate or a friend, someone they can rely upon. But those without support or who have more to prove? Then they are… fair game_.”

Neil jerked around to glare at his partner. “ _What do you mean ‘fair game’? What are they going to do?_ ”

A terrible blankness came over Jean’s handsome features, which also made something twist inside of Neil again. “ _What they think they can, most likely. Whatever they can without drawing the master’s or Riko’s displeasure_.” There was a bitter quirk to his lips for a moment as if Jean had made a joke in poor taste. “ _What doesn’t create a scandal that can’t be swept under the rug. Those freshmen aren’t property, after all, but you’ll be surprised what many will endure in the hopes of a professional contract.”_

“ _You’re saying that they’ll allow_ -“ Neil almost threw his racquet away in anger before Jean grabbed hold of it. “ _That’s bullshit_.”

“ _Not everyone is a Thea Muldani or Sara Moyer_ ,” Jean hissed. “ _There are few women Ravens in the first place, few professional women Exy players in general. Those who aren’t uncommonly skilled must work hard on more than the court to prove themselves._ ”

Neil managed a harsh laugh at that. “ _If only Kayleigh Day could see what happened to the sport she helped create. And what her former friend allows in his own court._ ”

Jean shook his head as he let go of Neil’s racquet. “ _Don’t do anything. **Please**. You’re finally proving yourself to Tetsuji and Riko. Let it go_.”

Except Neil knew people like Riko, knew that things were only quiet because Riko hadn’t been set off lately for some reason. And he knew he wouldn’t be able to stand around and do nothing while the two new freshmen were abused, not with his mother’s voice in his head, when he dreamed of her bleeding out beside him in the car at night, when he thought he could sometimes feel her pressed against his back or catch glimpses of her out of the corner of his eye.

He’d failed her enough in his short life, hadn’t been able to save her when it counted. She’d most likely yell at him and call him a fool, too, for what he was about to do, but he had enough nightmares and regrets to last him a dozen lifetimes to want to add even more if he could avoid it.

So he smiled at Jean instead. “Come on, time to hear me croak.”

Jean didn’t appear reassured. “Neil….”

“Don’t worry, I have a plan. Now show me what to do.”

Jean grabbed his own racquet and helmet while he muttered what sounded to be a string of prayers in French.

Yeah, that was reassuring as hell.

Neil waited until after dinner to catch Riko alone, when the asshole was headed toward the Black Hall. He hurried up to the older teen and forced himself to call out in a respectful tone. “King.”

That made Riko pause and turn around to look at him, to which Neil stood straight then bowed low. “Oh, this has to be good,” Riko drawled as he leaned against the black walls which Neil was beginning to hate (not true, he’d hated them from the very first day, only now he _loathed_ them) and crossed his arms over his chest. “What does my number 4 want?”

Neil also hated the way Riko said that, _his_ number 4, the way the bastard made it so clear that Neil was his possession, was a mere _thing_. For a moment he wanted to tell Riko to fuck off, that he was nothing but a second son thrown away like trash, but he forced down the anger and spite. “ _I want to ask something of you, my captain,_ ” he said in Japanese as he remained with his head bowed, the words he’d memorized, that he’d had Jean help him with to ensure they were spoken correctly since he’d only learned the basics as of yet.

“Good indeed.” Riko motioned for him to stand up straight. “What is it? Money? A phone?” He scoffed at that. “No, who would you call? A chance to go outside, maybe? Do you think you could run if given the chance?”

“None of that,” Neil said even as he longed to go outside so much, to see the stars stretch above him and have a chance to run until he fell down in exhaustion – it wasn’t the same, doing laps around the court. “I want you to give Curtis and Patel over to me.”

“Really?” A sly grin came over Riko’s face as he pushed away from the wall and stepped closer to Neil. “That interested in them, are you? And here I thought women weren’t your thing, considering how eager you were to take Jean’s place that time.”

Neil fought not to shudder in horror as he thought about what Riko had put him through, about the upperclassmen’s hands and- as he did his best not to think about those times. “I’m not interested in them in that way,” he said, his voice hoarse with the mostly suppressed memories. “I’m not interested in anyone that way.”

Riko scoffed at that as he reached out to grab a handful of Neil’s hair. “Then why do you want them? Building your own little court?”

“I think they have potential, and they’re not going to go far when Loiseau and other pricks like him are too busy abusing them,” Neil gritted out as he looked Riko in the eye.

“Hmm, maybe, maybe not.” Riko gave his hair a harsh yank. “Maybe they’ll buckle down and learn their place, like you did. Maybe they’ll break down and wash out. Now tell me the truth, Nathaniel, before I grow bored with this conversation.”

Bored and angry; Neil knew it wasn’t going to be easy, not with _Riko_. “Because I watched my mother go through enough shit that I’m not in the mood to put up with it here.”

Riko clicked his tongue as he smacked Neil’s left cheek. “There now, much better.” Then he laughed even as he tugged on Neil’s hair. “You think you’re going to save all of them? You can’t even save yourself.” To emphasis his point, he punched Neil in the stomach.

It took a moment for Neil to catch his breath. “Nuh-no… but at least… least those two.” Them and Jean. Riko was right, he couldn’t save all of the Ravens, couldn’t be there for each of the freshmen or help those already damaged, but if he did something now then he could live with his mother’s memory and maybe make the assholes think twice about what they were doing.

“Hmm.” Riko punched him again before slamming him against the wall. “I suppose, because you _asked_ so nicely.” Then he braced his right forearm across Neil’s lower neck and pressed hard. “ _Only_ because you asked so nicely,” he hissed into Neil’s face. “Remember that fact, Nathaniel.”

Then he let Neil fall to the ground as he struggled to breathe, and dusted his hands together. “You can deal with Loiseau and the others.” Something made him amused at that. “No permanent damage, _Wesninski_.”

“Yuh-yes, king,” Neil managed to stutter out as for a second or two he imagined having a knife in his hand – a knife or a gun – and putting to use the lessons his father and his mother and Lola had taught him. Using those skills on Riko.

But he didn’t have the codes to get out of the damn Nest and neither did Jean, and both of them would be dead as soon as Riko’s body was found. Frustration raged inside of Neil for a moment, a torrent of stymied anger and need to be free, to be far from the Nest and the Moriyamas and everything to do with his father.

He never thought the day would come when he’d _want_ to run. Back in Millport he’d thought he’d been burned out by all the years of running, of never stopping, and now Neil just wanted to _go_. Like Jean said, he was such a proper fool, always wanting what he could never have and spurning what was right in front of him.

At least he had Exy.

He returned to the suite where Jean was waiting for him, and a new round of cursing began once Neil was done with his story. “ _He actually said yes_?” Jean asked once he seemed to calm down.

“ _He said because I asked so nicely, and no permanent damage_.” Neil frowned as he dug around in the main room for something he could use as a weapon. “ _Also, that I was to deal with Loiseau, so I’m on my own. Dammit, don’t you have a knife_?” As much as he didn’t care for the things, one would come in handy at the moment; he’d have to see about asking DiMaccio for something the next time the asshole checked up on him. Oh, wouldn’t _that_ make his father proud?

“ _Of course, they hand them out every Bastille Day_ ,” Jean snapped. “ _I have dozens lying around. Are you that- what are you doing?_ ”

Neil hummed as he pried open the heated massage pillow Jean used for his sore neck and shoulders sometimes and removed all of the lovely D batteries, then went to fetch a sock. “It’s a British thing known as improvising,” he informed his roommate. “You know, due to those hardships when we buckle down for war instead of surrendering and all.”

“ _Improvise this, you little devil_ ,” Jean said while giving him the finger.

“See, weak offensive attacks like that are why your country sucks,” Neil stated. “Speaking of weak offense and defense, should I go for Loiseau or Dixon first?” He figured he’d start with the main offender and his partner.

Jean rubbed his hands over his face then combed them through his thick black hair as he sighed. “Loiseau, since Dixon follows his lead. You’re really doing this tonight?”

“Might as well, before Riko changes his mind.” Neil slid on a black hoodie for a little more padding and a pair of black leather gloves that must be meant for the winter after the batteries were tightly tied in the sock. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Wait.” Jean got up and fetched a retractable umbrella from the closet. “I’m not letting you go alone.”

Neil arched an eyebrow at that, but there was a certain look in those pale grey eyes and a jut to the strong chin that he already knew well after the last couple of months of living together. “I’ll handle Loiseau, you can have Dixon. Pretend he’s a centipede and you’ll do fine,” Neil said, referring to the time one of the insects had crawled into their bathroom.

Muttered French of how much Jean loathed his miserable British existence accompanied them as they made their way down the Red Hall (except it wasn’t red, was it?), passing a couple of curious Ravens along the way. Once at the two backliners’ suite, Neil gave a quick knock before he opened it since there wasn’t any locks.

Loiseau, a junior with broad shoulders and an inch or two on Jean, was sprawled out on his bed checking something on his phone while Dixon, a sophomore and only about half a foot taller than Neil, was reading an Exy magazine. They both stared at Neil in surprise while he raced forward with the sock swinging in the air, and got a good hit in to Loiseau’s abdomen while behind him, he heard a metallic ‘snick’ while Dixon made a choking sound.

Loiseau sort of half-wailed and half-grunted upon impact of the improvised cudgel; Neil took advantage of that to slam the asshole back against the headboard with a forearm against his throat while he straddled his hips, reminiscent of what Riko had done to him earlier, and brought the sock down on the phone to break it. Then he snatched it up and jabbed the sharp edge of the ruined device beneath Loiseau’s chin as the backliner struggled to draw breath.

“Yuh… psa-psycho.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Neil told him while his father’s smile crept over his lips.

“Wha- what you wan’?” When Loiseau tried to buck him off, Neil shook his head and jabbed a little harder with the phone. “Stop!”

Behind him, he could hear Jean tell Dixon to stay down. “You’re going to leave Curtis and Patel alone, do you understand?” When the backliner stared at him with wide eyes, Neil jabbed hard enough to break skin. “Keep your fucking hands to yourself and tell the others, too. Else next time I’ll break bones.” That was a lie, but the asshole didn’t need to know that.

Still, Loiseau paled and went to shake his head until he remembered about the phone. “But- Riko an’-“

“Riko knows about this,” Jean said in a bored voice. “You think he cares, _25_?” That time, he spoke with heavy derision when mentioning Loiseau’s number.

“Well?” Neil asked as he swung the sock around with his left hand.

“Fine!” Loiseau tried to back up even more into the headboard. “They’re yours! Do whatever you want with them!”

For a moment Neil felt the urge to bring the sock down on the asshole’s head, to keep swinging it until nothing but blood and bits of bone remained, but the sound of Jean murmuring his name pulled him back from the brink of that awful temper taking over, of him doing something he’d regret – not because Loiseau didn’t deserve it, but because then he’d have acted like his father. Shivering a little at that realization, he threw the broken phone aside and climbed off of the cowering backliner.

Jean stood by Dixon with the extended umbrella pressed still against the other Ravens’ lower neck and nodded at Neil. “ _I am tired and want to sleep if you are done with your fool antics for the night_ ,” he told Neil.

“I suppose,” Neil answered back as he swung the sock around once more, and hummed when Jean sighed with pronounced weariness.

Word of what had happened that night had clearly gotten around come morning, as the other Ravens gave Jean and Neil guarded looks while they prepared for morning practice. Despite how much it made his stomach turn, Neil made sure to give Riko a respectful greeting when they crossed paths in the locker room, though Jean had to put a light hand on his left arm when Federov leaned in close to ask him if he was ‘switching teams’ and needed a reminder of why it was more fun to ‘receive’. The prick kept needling Neil, kept doing his best to set him off in hopes of Riko handing him over for more ‘punishment’, but so far Jean always pulled Neil back from the edge.

Neil had just grabbed his racquet when McPherson led Patel and Curtis over to the equipment rack. “So I hear they’re your problem now,” the tall junior declared as she waved to the freshmen while giving Neil an assessing look, her blond hair cut into a pixie look and her strong features covered in pale freckles.

“Uhm, wait, now?” Neil glanced at the two puzzled teenagers and then at Tetsuji standing in the middle of the court – where he and Jean were expected to be in another minute or two. “But I-“

“Nope, your problem,” McPherson replied with evident relief as she grabbed her own racquet. Then she seemed to give a little. “Good luck, okay?”

He could only stare at her as she hurried over to join the Ravens gathered around Tetsuji, then looked at an even more confused Curtis and Patel before giving Jean a hopeful smile.

“ _Oh no, you have dug your own grave here, devil_ ,” Jean informed him with great delight. “ _Now lie in it_.”

“ _Such empathy_ ,” Neil chided before he frowned at the two girls.

“Ah, so you’re training us?” Patel asked. “Aren’t you a freshman, too?”

“But… but he’s on the Perfect Court,” Curtis said in a quiet yet awed voice. “They both are.”

“Yeah, but now there’s _two_ guys,” Patel grumbled as she gave Neil and Jean a cautious stare. “Why were we pulled away from Jonathan and Ed?”

At least Patel knew enough to be on her guard, Neil thought as he motioned to the far end of the court where he practiced his drills. “Look, from what I saw the two of you are doing good on the first drill, so for right now go down there and work on it. As soon as we’re done, we’ll join you.”

That made Curtis smile, the expression shy but genuine, while Patel frowned. “We’re really not working with Ed and Jonathan anymore?”

From what Neil could tell, Mills and Ross were still stuck with Loiseau… and there was nothing he could do about that. In fact, he might have made things worse for them by stepping in for the girls, but he’d made a decision and had to see things to the end. “No, they’re on their own.”

Patel’s frown deepened upon hearing that. “How come? Why are we-“

Jean stepped forward with his racquet held in both hands. “You were told what to do, you don’t question a higher ranked teammate. That is your first lesson for the day,” he told her with an air of utmost authority. “If you’re unwilling to accept the opportunity which has been given to you, by all means, join your other year-mates.”

“Marley,” Curtis said in a quiet voice as she tugged at the back of Patel’s jersey while the striker stared back at Jean for a couple of seconds before she ducked her head, her dark brown ponytail bobbing with the motion.

“Okay, we’ll go off and do more drills.” She sounded a bit surly, but Neil noticed how there was less tension in her shoulders as she grabbed her racquet.

Jean huffed once the girls left and nudged Neil in the middle of the back with his racquet toward the center of the court. “ _Will holy water work on you, do you think_?”

“ _But then you’d be stuck with those two without any help_ ,” Neil reminded his partner.

“ _Right, burning it is_. _It’s merely what you deserve, after all_.”

Why were the French such dramatic bastards, Neil wondered as he prepared himself for another fun session of assault and battery, Ravens’ scrimmage-style.

*******

"For fuck's sake, did you see that? Did you? He completely missed the cone! How the he-"

"Gordon! Shut the hell up, if I wanted to hear from you I'd ask for your opinion, which I don't," Wymack snapped. "You're not the damn coach, are you?"

"No, I'm just a striker who knows how to hit the fucking cone!"

"Not often enough," Kevin remarked from where he was leaning against his racquet off to the side of the two squabbling morons, which made Yee laugh. Gordon went to swing at him, but Wymack shoved him back before Andrew had to something regrettable, such as move and go carve out Gordon’s spine. Well, more the first thing than the latter.

"Enough! Go do a dozen laps. Move it!" Wymack ordered the loser, which Gordon went off to do while swearing under his breath. After that, the eternal optimist turned back to the lost cause that was Yee to talk him through the drill.

From his spot on the benches, Andrew slouched down a little more since it appeared that the excitement was over for the time being. "And yet another ‘productive’ day begins." Another afternoon of sitting on the bench while Gordon and Yee were at each other's throats with Kevin added to the mix while Wymack and Wilds tried to pry the strikers apart and get some sort of team cohesion going. Gordon, the bastion of maturity that he was, felt threatened by the rookie on the team and undermined Yee whenever he could, Yee of course took the bait like the moron he was and Kevin was ready to strangle them both.

"Give it another half an hour to settle down," Renee told him, another annoying optimist. "Kenny's improving a little, Matt's been working with him. They're getting along well and he's sparring with Matt now in the evenings. I think he just needs someone to pay attention to him and be his friend."

Aw, was that a hint of reproach in her voice? A bit of censure? "What are you talking about? We took him in and kept him alive all those weeks," Andrew reminded the wolf in sheep's clothing sitting next to him. "That's as friendly as we get." Some people were just so ungrateful and demanding. Make that most people.

"Andrew...." For a moment it seemed as if not-so-sweet Renee was going to say something, then she seemed to think better of it. She was quiet as she pressed her right hand over where the useless cross lay hidden beneath her uniform before she shook her head. "So you're going to do nothing to help the team move forward this year, are you?"

"I'm keeping Day alive and mostly well, isn't that more than enough?" Again with the ingratitude.

A slight sigh escaped from Renee as her hand fell to her lap. "Is it really that much effort to involve yourself in something, to hope?"

He gave her a wide grin as he slouched down some more. "You know the answer to that, why even bother? No, I take my few amusements where I find them, and the biggest one will be watching Kevin fail with the mediocrity that is the Foxes."

"You're a Fox, too," Renee reminded him with a narrow look.

"And so I know of what I speak," he said as he closed his eyes. "Wake me when it looks like Wilds is about to start screaming at everyone, that's worth it to see Aaron's disgust."

He thought he heard Renee mutter a prayer for patience, so perhaps practice wasn't a complete waste. Andrew shifted a little more to adjust the heavy padding on his shoulders and allowed the haze of drugs to pull his thoughts into a million different directions.

Nothing ever interesting happened with this stupid sport, this stupid team – Kevin’s arrival a minor blip aside – so no point wasting any unnecessary effort. At least soon enough he’d have classes as a partial distraction.

*******

Neil thought that it was the middle of June, though he wasn't certain at that point. He wasn't certain of much anymore, to be honest, wasn't certain of anything but black walls and bruises that never entirely went away, exhaustion sunk deep into his bones in a way that reminded him of that first year on the run, of never getting enough to sleep, of pushing himself to his limits and beyond. Of always being on guard for the next hit, the next slam of another body against his, another cruel smile followed by sharp pain.

No, there wasn't much he was certain of anymore, of anything but Jean. Of his partner murmuring in French to warn Neil of his presence before he reached down to pull Neil back onto his feet, to sit him up before tending to his latest wounds, to drape a blanket over him before the exhaustion became too much and give a cup of tea to chase away a growing chill inside of him. A presence who stood at his side like much like his mother had done, only with inventive curses instead of harsh pulls to his hair and slaps and scratches to push him forward.

He thought that Jean might know the date... but what did it matter, really? Each day would be the same until the end of August, when things should go back to normal (as much as that had any meaning in the Nest) when classes started up and the Ravens played against the other Northeastern teams. Neil felt a mix of anxiety and eagerness at that, to finally face off against someone other than Ravens.

To stand in front of a crowd of fans and the media as a Raven.

It went against everything his mother had ever taught him, against what had been drilled into him over the years... but he wasn't running anymore, was he? Tetsuji had only kept his most recent alias because it would have raised too many questions if Nathaniel Wesninski had reappeared after all this time, especially with his father in prison. As 'Neil Josten', he had an established school record and backstory, as shaky as it was... and Neil was under the impression that Riko would take great delight when it came time to show that he had laid claim to the recruit who had turned down Kevin Day.

Riko... something was going on there, something that made Jean nervous and even Neil cautious. The psycho seemed to bounce back and forth between pleased and furious over something the last couple of weeks (or however long), enough so that Neil did his best to keep his head down and out of his captain's way. Something that wasn't too difficult to do since he was now stuck with two clueless freshmen and Riko was often away doing interviews.

Curtis and Patel weren't too bad, Neil supposed. It's just... he didn't get girls his age, really. Because of his mother, he hadn't interacted with them much, not after Mary had caught him kissing one a couple of years ago just to see what it felt like. He could still hear her voice in his head yelling at him to not trust them, not to trust _anyone_ like that, to let them in close. After Federov and the others... he made sure to keep enough space between him and the freshmen (and everyone, really), which made Patel give him a couple of odd looks and Curtis a sad smile at first, and then a bright one after Jean called him a devil in front of them.

They were working on drills a few days after Neil had ‘staked his claim’, Patel still wary as fuck but Curtis seeming to go with the flow (which basically summed up the girls’ personalities – Patel would have done well with Neil’s mother… Curtis, not so much). Neil was on track to finish the Raven drills by Jean’s set deadline (and waited to see how French bastard would torture him next), while the girls were almost ready to move on to the second one.

“So what the hell is going on with Jonathan and Ed having to do all this stuff for the upperclassmen?” Patel asked as she waited for Curtis to finish her turn on the cones. “They’re barely getting any sleep because they’re being worked to death fetching this and that.”

For a moment Neil thought about what had happened in his room, in the locker room, and jerked back to reality when he felt Jean give his left foot a gentle tap with the end of his racquet. “They’re freshmen, it happens.” They were lucky that was all that happened to them, and there was nothing Neil could do about it – which Jean was reminding him with that pointed gaze just then.

“What the hell?” Patel glared through her visor at Neil. “Is it some kind of messed up hazing?”

“It’s being a low-ranked Raven,” Jean informed her in that haughty, serious manner of his. “You are all freshmen and the lowest ranked of us, it’s how you pay your dues. Come game time, you and Curtis will carry Neil and my bags, you will ensure we have everything we need when we travel, that we are prepared for our studies.”

Curtis paused in the middle of her drills to stare at them while Patel clearly was growing more upset with each example. “You can go to-“

“No.” Jean smacked the end of his racquet into the floor as he gave her a stern look. “You are freshmen and the lowest ranked,” he repeated. “It is how it’s done. You show your respect to those who are better than you, who have worked their way through the ranks.” There was an unspoken ‘or else’ as he gave her a cold look. “If you don’t like it, then you strive to better yourself, to earn a higher number.”

The two girls were quiet after that as they exchanged looks. “Why aren’t we already doing all of that, like Jon and Ed?” Curtis asked as she fiddled with the tape on her racquet, strands of her pale brown hair clinging to her face beneath the visor of her helmet.

Jean huffed and gave Neil a pointed look. “Because they are… they are available for all the Ravens. We’re stuck with the two of you.”

“I see.” Patel chewed on her bottom lip as she glanced back and forth between Neil and Jean. “Did Thea Muldani have to put up with this?”

That earned another huff from Jean. “Muldani was a prodigy and quickly worked her way up to the number ‘14’.” He gave Patel a disdainful look before he rolled his eyes. “You will be lucky if you step foot on the court this season outside of these practice seasons.”

“That’s not an answer,” Patel snapped as she fisted her gloved left hand on her hip. “So what, I have to do all this gopher shit and work hard, I get it. I will get that higher number.” She gave Neil a challenging stare. “Why are you exempt from it?”

“Number 4,” Neil reminded her with a cold smile, unwilling to go into the fact that he wasn’t exactly ‘exempt’. The less these two knew about the real world hidden behind the Nest, the better.

“All the more reason for me to get there, then.” Patel glared when Jean scoffed at that statement. “What? You don’t think I can do it?”

“I think you’re going to have to eat some humble pie at first,” Jean warned her.

“But-“

“Work on your drills,” Neil told her, unwilling to waste any more time on the argument. “Help out some of the upperclassmen – McPherson, Chen, Anders, Lau,” he advised, naming some of the Ravens whom he’d figured out weren’t into playing the rougher games. Who were focused on getting ahead but not destroying everyone in their path to do it. “And watch what the hell you say around here.” He noticed the way that Jean snorted at that while looking at him with blatant disbelief.

“Thank you,” Curtis told him before she focused once more on the drills. Meanwhile, Patel toyed with her racquet while she watched her teammate.

“I’m gonna get that high number,” she said as if to herself. “Wait and see. I’ll put up with this shit only until I have to, but it is shit. I bet Riko and Kevi-“

She nearly tripped over her own feet when Jean suddenly ended up in her face. “What did Josten say about watching that mouth of yours?” Jean asked, his French accented heavier due to the anger in his voice. “Do not say that name.”

Patel blinked in astonishment a couple of times, her mouth wide open and cheeks flushed before she stuttered out an apology, the most cowed that Neil had yet to see her.

“I- I’m sorry.”

“Laps. Now.”

“What?”

“ _Laps_. Do them until I tell you to stop,” Jean ordered, eyes narrowed and demeanor every inch the Ravens’ number ‘3’. “Go.”

Patel glanced at Neil as if expecting him to intercede, but all Neil did was give her a flat look in return so she slowly set her racquet aside and began to jog around the outer ring of the court. Curtis watched her for a moment before quietly resuming her own practice, and several of the Ravens gave a few curious looks their way while Neil went to stand next to a tense Jean. When he took to humming God Save the Queen, Jean groaned and smacked him on the back of his helmet.

Neil waited until they were alone at night to ask the question that had bothered him all day, which had plagued him for weeks. “ _What really happened to make Day leave Edgar Allan_?”

As always, Jean tensed upon hearing that name and glanced around as if to check for Riko’s presence even though it was just the two of them in their room. “ _It’s best you don’t know_ ,” his partner said in a quiet manner, eyes closed as if praying.

Neil opened his mouth to push, to say that it _wasn’t_ best… but it wasn’t often when Jean denied him things, and he didn’t like the fact that there was that fear, that stress on his partner because of something he’d done. “ _Riko’s going to have to deal with him eventually_ ,” Neil reminded the stubborn bastard. “ _You both are. Last year the Foxes got to the death matches without Day, which means we might be facing them in the spring_.”

“ _Then we deal with it then_ ,” Jean said as he opened his eyes and frowned. _“Don’t go begging for trouble before we need to it._ ”

 _“I’m not – forget it, good night_ ,” Neil snapped as he flopped down on his bed. “ _While you’re at it, sit there and worry about the sky falling on us_.”

“ _And I’m sure you’ll spend the next few hours plotting something new to bring us grief_ ,” Jean shot back as he lay down on his own bed. “ _I know my next life will be blessed because this life can’t be anymore cursed!”_

_“Challenge accepted!”_

Neil wasn’t giving back the pillow the French bastard threw at him.

Still, for all their arguments and thrown belongings and kept secrets (so Jean didn’t tell him much about Day other than for Neil to figure out there were plenty of good reasons to hate the guy, Neil didn’t talk much about his parents), Jean made their morning shakes with plenty of fruit and always managed to get a bowl of strawberries or sliced mangoes or something like that for Neil despite the dieticians being on him to eat more greens, and Neil strove hard to improve on court, to ‘behave’ so Tetsuji had no reason to punish him and Jean.

They had a mostly quiet few ‘days’ at the Nest that, looking back, had lulled Neil into a false sense of security, that had made him think that things might actually turn out all right at Edgar Allan.

He should have known better.

Riko continued to come and go, taking care of various media responsibilities for the other teams he was affiliated with before he had to focus more attention on his ‘studies’ and the Ravens. The best Neil could figure out at the time, something must have happened with one of them when he came storming into the locker room at the Nest when everyone was dressing after the evening’s practice, face a mask of thwarted rage and dark eyes darting about as if in search of something.

In search of a target or two.

Those nearest the exits scrambled to leave, dressed or not, while Riko stalked toward Neil and Jean. Neil didn’t know if it was that Jean was closer or because Riko was long used to venting his anger on the backliner, but the prick grabbed onto Jean’s left arm and yanked him forward the same time that Neil attempted to stop that from happening.

“No, don’t you-“ He was pulled back by a grinning Federov. “Let me go, dammit!” As he tugged on his trapped right arm, he looked over at Riko. “Let him go, you asshole!”

Jean didn’t even try to block the fist which slammed into his face, into his left cheek, or the next punch to his jaw. Riko landed several more blows while Neil swore at him, until Jean moaned and fell to the floor, where he was kicked.

Panting from either exertion or anger, Riko spun around to face Neil, to lash out with his fist once more; both arms held by Federov, who had over a foot on him and at least sixty pounds, Neil couldn’t do anything but brace himself for the blow. “You don’t tell me what to do!” Riko punched Neil again in the stomach. “I am your _king!_ ” He grabbed Neil by the neck and grinned, the expression more like an awful grimace, as his fingers dug into Neil’s throat. “So you’ll pay for that, 4. Lev and Daniel,” he called out to Federov and Bautista, who had remained in the room, “are going to have some fun. You pick if they have that fun with Jean while you watch, or with you while Jean watches.”

Neil almost spat in the prick’s face for that, but then Riko would probably make him _and_ Jean suffer. “Leave… Jean alone,” he managed to choke out.

“So predictable.” For a moment, Neil was afraid that Riko would set the two upperclassmen on his partner, but then Riko waved at Neil after punching him one last time. “Make it hurt,” he said before turning around to walk away. “And Nathaniel? Speak to me like that again and there won’t be a choice, I’ll hold you down myself as I give up those two rookies of yours as well as Moreau.”

Neil couldn’t say anything to that as Federov was already wrenching his arms around hard enough to make him struggle for air, and it only got worse from there. They did indeed ‘make it hurt’. They made it hurt so very much. Yet the worst part was the broken look in Jean’s eyes as he hovered near Neil in the showers while Neil let the cold water rain down on him, desperate for something to numb his body.

“ _You shouldn’t have done that_ ,” Jean told him, his voice hoarse for some reason. “ _Not for me_.”

It took a couple of seconds before Neil could speak, and when he did, he knew why _his_ words came out so raspy and weak. _“But I’m the troublemaker, remember? So I do.”_

Jean rocked back and forth as he tugged at his thick black hair, huddled in on himself and seemingly unconcerned about the water soaking into his clothes. “ _No one does such things for me. I’m nothing, a mere thing, not worth it_.”

Despite the searing pain that the cold water couldn’t chase away, the feel of hands and mouths still on him, Neil laughed – or tried to, at least. “ _Funny, because I’m nothing, too_.” Just a false name and an owed debt and a huge disappointment all tied together by scars and nightmares at that point – the highlight of his day was getting beaten up on the Exy court and insulting a prissy French bastard. “ _Must be why we’re stuck together.”_

For a few seconds Jean stared at him with something incomprehensible glimmering in those grey eyes of his (eyes which reminded Neil of his mother’s, back when they hadn’t been constantly hidden beneath contacts), and then he let out a shuddering breath. “ _Come now, that’s enough_ ,” Jean chided as he unfurled his lean body and held up a large black towel. “ _Any longer and you’ll freeze to death, and I refuse to have the ghost of a mouthy devil haunting me forever_.”

For Jean, Neil forced himself to move, to allow those large, long-fingered hands to gently drape the towel around him and rub along his arms ever so slowly and lightly to warm him up a little, to allow Jean to walk near him as they made their way back to their suite where Jean once again helped to patch him up before tending to his own bruises.

The next day they found out what had caused Riko’s reaction (Patel and Curtis were given a cold ‘mind your own business’ upon gawking at them that morning – Neil thought maybe McPherson or Lau explained things later in the day), when they had the time to look things up on Jean’s laptop. During one of Riko’s interviews, someone just _had_ to mention Kevin Day, just _had_ to ask Riko how he felt about the Foxes’ chances for the upcoming season with the ‘great’ Kevin Day on their line-up along with Andrew Minyard, the only recruit who had turned down Edgar Allan. The only recruit who had turned down _Riko_. The two of them together would make the Foxes a force to reckon with, some people were saying, and might give the Ravens some competition come the semi-finals (assuming that the Foxes _made_ it to the semi-finals).

“All right, I’m ready to throttle someone myself after watching that clip,” Neil said as he stretched out with care on Jean’s bed. “Though preferably it would be the reporter, Day or Minyard.” Oh what he’d give to have his hands on Day or Minyard just then, two of the people responsible for his state of misery.

“This isn’t good.” Jean tugged at his bangs as he stared at the paused screen of his laptop, the glow of the screen casting his battered face in an unflattering light. “Everyone is used to seeing them together, Riko and Kevin. Of course they are going to bring up Kevin being on a different team.” He closed his eyes as his jaw clenched despite it having to hurt. “I never thought that he’d join another team and play again.”

“After the accident?” Neil noticed how quiet Jean was about the matter and took a guess. “It wasn’t an accident, was it?”

“Riko and Kevin… have a very complex relationship,” Jean admitted with a wry twist of his lips.

“Of course, Riko’s a spoiled, abusive psychopath, that would make any relationship with him messed up,” Neil muttered as he curled up as much as his abused body allowed. “Can’t possibly see how that would make things difficult.”

Jean chuckled a little and pulled up an old Court game for them to watch – Britain versus France (where France won, the bastard). Neil was able to fall asleep that night with Jean mocking the British team’s plays and get a couple of hours of sleep.

So, understandably, he and Jean weren’t very happy when, a few days later, Tetsuji gathered the Ravens to inform them of something important for the upcoming season. With Riko by his side, he announced to them that they were no longer a part of the northeastern NCAA Class I Exy division but had moved into the southeastern division.

“This decision has been final as of the first of June, and soon the rest of the Class I Exy teams will be informed,” Tetsuji said in that flat manner of his. “We are changing districts in the best interest of the game, to improve a district that is in need of true competition and to seize on a growing commercial interest in the game. This will benefit all of us.”

Neil could feel how stiff Jean had become with tension while Tetsuji spoke, but his attention was focused on Riko, on the way the bastard’s dark eyes glittered, how he gazed at the Ravens as if daring someone to speak up, to challenge the decision. No one did, of course, not with Tetsuji – with _the master_ – telling them what had already been decided.

When his uncle had finished speaking, Riko stepped forward. “We are the undisputed champions,” he declared, “the reigning champions. Each year we win our district without contest, it’s become a given in fact. It’s much the same in the southeast with Breckenridge. Now it’s time to shake things up, to make it more interesting. We’ll bring our game to a new district and force them to improve or else.”

No matter what he said or how he tried to spin it, Neil was certain that there was only one real reason for the change – Kevin Day. Riko wanted an excuse to pit the Ravens against the Foxes before the semi-finals, to possibly crush the Foxes’ chance of even making it that far in the season. Neil didn’t know if it had to do with whatever had happened between the two strikers, with what had driven Kevin from the Nest (more than likely), or the persistent questions about Kevin’s talent (again, probably).

He just knew that Kevin was several states away while he and Jean were within Riko’s abusive reach, and that wasn’t a good thing for either of them.

Once upon a time, Neil had envied Kevin Day, had kept pictures and articles about the young man (and Riko) hidden in a binder stashed inside of his duffel bag (long gone) which he would look at when his mother wasn’t around. He’d think about the time long ago at the Nest and imagine what it would be like if he’d been able to grow up and play Exy, and tell himself that at least Kevin (and Riko) got to live that dream. That at least someone was able to move forward with their life and _be_ something.

Only now? Now Neil was at the Nest once more, but as property to Riko, the psychotic unwanted son of a yakuza boss powerful enough to have Neil’s father as an underling, and it was all Kevin’s fault. Kevin and Andrew Minyard, who seemed to be protecting Kevin, from what Riko had insinuated the one time.

Kevin, who didn’t seem to care about Jean, who didn’t seem to care about anything but being able to play Exy. Well, now Kevin could deal with a revenge-minded Riko barreling down on him and his new team – Neil would do whatever he could to spur on the bastard if it got Riko to leave Jean and him alone.

So when Riko gave him and Jean a pointed look as if waiting for their reactions, Neil smiled and nodded. “We’re behind you, captain,” he called out. “The south won’t know what hit ‘em.”

“We’re Ravens, we won’t be defeated,” Jean declared, which the rest of the team echoed while Riko grinned with pride. If anyone but Neil noticed the gleam of madness in those dark eyes, nothing was said.

It just made him more determined to do whatever was necessary to protect his own and himself.

*******

Andrew looked down onto the ground several stories below until a thick, pulsing worm of fear managed to grow its way through the haze of drugs and tighten around his chest, to make him feel something true for once, even if only for a little bit. Then he leaned back while he sat on the edge of the roof and fixed his gaze above, on the pollution-obscured stars which gleamed so feebly in the night’s sky and thought about the official announcement made earlier about the Ravens’ district move.

Kevin was already passed out drunk in the dorm room, since there was no way they were risking the media tracking them down in Columbia. Andrew had a bottle of Wymack’s purloined whiskey next to him, which he took a sip from as he stared up at the sky.

Riko Moriyama. Just what was the little prick up to now? Well, other than being unable to let go of Kevin, obviously, and just a _bit_ obsessive, no? It certainly explained some of Kevin’s behavior the past month.

So much for a quiet season of watching the Foxes fail, Andrew supposed. Now he had to put up asshole Ravens in his district and Kevin breaking down all the time, and Wymack’s shitty speeches on top of it all. Throwing himself off the roof was looking better and better.

Moriyama was up to something; he had stood behind his uncle with a slight smirk on his face when Tetsuji gave a short speech about how the change of districts was to ‘better the sport’ (such bullshit) that made Andrew wish he was there in person so he could carve the expression off of the prick’s face. The whole district thing was only the start of it, he could feel it. Riko had more up his sleeve for the Foxes, for _Kevin_.

But there wasn’t much Andrew could do about it right then, so what did it matter? He’d finish the bottle of whiskey and go back to his room, deal with Nicky’s too talkative self and Aaron’s sullenness, get dragged onto the Exy court once Kevin sobered up at some point tomorrow, and spar with Renee on Sunday. Then the whole week would start over again, Exy and banality and Bee and a chance to escape it all for a short while at Eden’s, with classes thrown in soon enough.

Pain in the ass that he was becoming, Riko might prove a spark of interest. Might. Andrew set the bottle of whiskey aside so he could light a cigarette, the smoke a familiar harshness in his lungs. Though he doubted there was anything Riko could throw at him that would surprise him, that would shake up the boring greyness of his world.

But maybe. What did it say to him that he looked forward to that maybe?

*******

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *******  
> Hmm, okay, you got through that. Poor Neil and Jean, they suffered a lot but they're growing stronger together for it.
> 
> And seriously, nothing at all against the French (or the British, Jean gets some hits back), I just love having those two squabble in such a manner.
> 
> The Raven drills - so the first one is supposed to be difficult (all of them, really). Not ignoring that, but Neil is on the accelerated days here and being beat up/everything else is great motivation. That and basically all he's doing is Exy and sleeping (when not being roughed up). The other Ravens get some downtown.
> 
> Hopefully it didn't seem too much, what Neil did for the girls. I just can't see him not doing something in that situation, considering his mother. There's also been reference to the Ravens and them not having many women on the team, things like that, which makes me want to explore it. And you'll see more plottiness w/ them, too.... I like that whole plot thing.
> 
> Was there something else I wanted to say?
> 
> I'm going to post another chapter of Heartlines then get back to this. I'm also working on Dragon!Andrew, but I think that's going to be a 'buffer' post since I'm going to San Japan at the end of the month and might need to throw that up as a Sunday post. We shall see.
> 
> As always, thanks so much for the kudos and comments!  
> *******


	3. Blood and Tears

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, you get an early chapter post! Since I'm out of town this weekend and not sure how crazy Sunday will be, I'm posting tonight (that and obviously the chapter's ready, too).
> 
> Hmm... don't think there's any new warnings, just references to things that have happened in past chapters and Moriyamas being bastards.  
> *******

*******

With the end of August fast approaching and a new goal in sight (decimate the southeastern division and the Palmetto State Foxes in particular), the ‘daily’ practices at the Nest took on an increased intensity. Neil didn’t have the energy to worry about what would happen after August 23rd, when classes at Edgar Allan resumed for the fall semester, when he would finally be able to step outside once more and in black and red at that (though there wouldn’t be an official announcement until that Friday about who he was, the day of the game).

From what DiMaccio had told him during one of the man’s ‘lovely’ visits (check-ins, they were, to ensure that Neil wasn’t running, that DiMaccio and the others didn’t have to go tracking him down once more), they’d been busy on Tetsuji’s ‘bequest’ to backfill the paper trail and history for ‘Neil Josten’ as much as possible, now that he needed the ID to last more than a year in some backwoods town. When it came time for the press to ask questions (and they would), Neil’s ‘parents’ were currently working overseas, as they had done off and on during Neil’s childhood (Jean would be _so_ upset to learn that Neil could keep the British accent), which would explain the lack of their presence and why Neil had been considered a potential Fox (it hadn’t been due to neglect, his behavior in Millport, just Neil being standoffish and shy and that damn coach misinterpreting things).

Neil collapsed on his bed, exhausted and body aching from what was essentially ten hours of running around, throwing balls, getting slammed about and dealing with Riko (sometimes he thought that was the worst part). “ _Lie to me and tell me it’s going to get better_ ,” he asked Jean, who was sprawled out on his own bed. “ _Just a few more weeks of this, right_?”

Jean was quiet enough that Neil thought perhaps he was already asleep. “ _It gets… different_ ,” he finally said, his voice thick with the same bone-deep weariness that Neil felt. “ _The days are longer, but there’s morning practice and then class, where everyone watches you, they look at you and stare. A short time to study and eat, then afternoon practice. Another short break, and then final practice for the night. With there being games… you study the other team as much as you study your lessons, and everyone is obsessed with the starting line-up_.”

“ _Great_.” Neil sighed as he forced himself to move enough to crawl beneath the covers so he could try to get a few hours of sleep. “ _Can’t wait_.” The ‘4’ on his cheek throbbed for a moment, reminding him of his part in everything, of the fact that he had so much farther to push himself, to improve.

When he did fall asleep, some nights he dreamed of his mother, of how she had died and that awful night on the beach with the fire and wet sand and darkness. Of how he had failed her after everything she had done for him, after all those close calls, after all the blood that had been shed. That or she was still with him, that they were still on the run, his hand in hers as she pulled him along, pulled him to another safe house or into another wreck of a car or onto another train. Always running, they were, always on the move.

He missed that, missed the running, missed just kicking off with his feet and _going_ ….

And some nights he dreamed of being out on the court, of facing off against helmeted foes so much taller and bigger than him, most of them faceless but some… some of them were Riko, Federov, Bautista, Johnson and Nichols. There was even Day out there and Minyard in the goal. Neil had to play against them, to fight against them, all on his own, to win… and never could. He took the hits, he got slammed around with ease, all in an effort to score a single damn point, and when that buzzer went off to signal the end of the game-

He would wake up with his body gone rigid and breath caught in his throat, conditioned over the years not to make a noise, not even to let out that scream, not to move at all, and would look across the room to reassure himself that Jean was still there, was safe and sound. Then he could force himself to relax, to let out that breath and clear his mind as best he could, and go back to sleep since he needed it so badly.

With classes fast approaching, one of Tetsuji’s assistant coaches (Nakamura) dropped off a new laptop and phone for Neil, both of them sleek and thin and expensive, the latest models and more to do with the Ravens’ image than anything with him, he was certain – they matched Jean’s, after all. They also were loaded with spyware, something his mother had taught him to look for each time they got a new burner phone, each time they went to a library or internet café to do a quick search for some necessary information, each time they swiped someone’s phone with a bit of clever pickpocketing to use after swapping out the SIM card.

Of course he couldn’t touch the programs, couldn’t do anything but take a quick peek before closing down the menu, because that would only get him into trouble. Jean had told him that ‘they’ monitored the sites that the Ravens’ accessed so the spyware wasn’t much of a surprise, not when Neil had spent so many years on the run. He’d just have to be a bit inventive to get around them.

On the other side of the room, Jean sighed. “ _Whatever you’re planning, **don’t**_.”

Neil arched an eyebrow at that as he pulled up an internet browser and logged on to the university’s website so he could double-check his class schedule – all his classes already assigned to him by Tetsuji or someone else on the coaching staff, of course. “ _I don’t know what you’re talking about_.”

“ _You have that demonic gleam in those eyes of yours, and I just felt a chill run down my back as if something walked over my grave. I thought you were behaving for once_.” Jean gave him a suspicious look before he sniffed. “ _Now **I** am being the fool, obviously_.”

“ _You said it, not me_ ,” Neil told him with a grin, and laughed as he ducked away from the paperback thrown at him.

A couple of days later, they were out on the court where Patel finally managed to successfully complete the second drill. “Yes!” Curtis cheered as her partner knocked down the cones one after another in the random order that Jean called them out. “You did it!”

“Finally,” Jean said without any obvious approval, and gave Neil a cold look for the elbow in his ribs. “What? If she wants to be a higher number then she needs to improve faster.”

“She’s working on it,” Neil argued, and was surprised when Patel shoved back the visor on her helmet and shook her head, her face flushed and expression set with determination.

“No, he’s right.” It wasn’t often that Patel just accepted Jean’s criticism like that – she wasn’t a complete pain in the ass, but she had a stubborn streak to her and usually liked to argue a little, to push back just enough to let Neil and Jean know that she wasn’t about to let them walk all over her. It was a good thing that Neil had stepped in for her because if he hadn’t? Someone would be taking great delight in breaking her of that attitude, from what he could tell was going on with Mills and Ross. “I need to get through these faster.”

“You need to learn them right,” Neil pointed out, for a moment feeling so old since there wasn’t that much of a difference between their two ages – it didn’t help that he could feel Jean all but radiating incredulousness next to him, the bastard. “Rushing through them isn’t going to help if you don’t learn to do them right, _do you have a problem_?” he asked the French asshole.

“ _Ah, it seems you can learn, or at least become a parrot_ ,” Jean said with a slight smile. “ _Close enough to a raven, one supposes_.”

“ _Fuck you_ ,” Neil told him with a great deal of satisfaction before he looked back at Patel, who along with Curtis had grown used to the breaks of French in their discussions. “The Master,” oh how he detested calling Tetsuji that, but he wasn’t willing to let Patel or Curtis get into trouble because he thought the nickname was bullshit, “won’t take you serious if you fuck these up.” And by ‘serious’, he meant that Tetsuji would cane the shit out of her for not living up to his expectations.

Unfortunately, Patel and Curtis had already seen that side of their demanding coach not too long ago, when Ross had failed to advance on the first drill. Tetsuji didn’t broke failure, and it was expected that the freshmen (except for Neil) would at least have the first two drills mastered by the start of the semester.

Being on the best NCAA Class I team was one sort of incentive, the hopes of a pro Exy contract upon graduation was another. The knowledge of physical pain and abuse if you failed? Well, Neil supposed that was new for most of the Ravens since from what he could tell they came from ‘normal’ homes – normal in that they weren’t sold off by their parents, among other things.

Still, the Ravens put up with Tetsuji’s abuse and mind-games, so Neil had to wonder about them, if there really was such a thing as ‘normal’.

Patel set her racquet aside so she could reset the cones, her expression the familiar tenacious one that Neil had seen so much of the past summer. “I’m not going to give him a reason like that to beat me, not for falling behind. I’m serious about getting better, dammit.”

“Yes, you’re going to be the second coming of Thea Muldani, we’ve heard this before,” Jean said in a bored voice.

She whirled around to face him with her face twisted in anger. “Do you think this is funny? Do you-“ She jerked her arm away when Neil touched it. “What?”

“You don’t speak to a higher ranked Raven like that, _ever_ ,” Neil told her, his expression cold since he could tell that she’d already drawn the attention of other players to them with her raised voice – that she’d drawn _Tetsuji’s_ attention to them. “Come on, we’re doing laps.”

Patel blinked at him. “I didn’t-“

“Laps, now! You can tell me all about Belmonte’s defensive team while we run,” he ordered as he tossed his own helmet aside at Curtis, who fumbled to catch it.

“Yuh- yes, sir!” Patel scrambled to remove her own and then to catch up to Neil while Jean took over coaching Curtis, and when Neil hazarded a glance over at Tetsuji, he was relieved to see the Japanese man had resumed coaching a small group in a practice scrimmage.

The situation deflected for the moment, he let Patel call out the information that all of them had memorized (or better had memorized if they didn’t want to face Tetsuji’s and Riko’s wraths) in preparation of the approaching home game with Belmonte for the start of the season. Neil had to admit that Patel had done a good job for a game where she wouldn’t have any court time, and after a mile or so told her that was enough of the statistics.

“You have to watch shit like that,” he warned her when they were far enough away from the other players. “It’s not just lack of skill that’s going to get you into trouble here. You’re not going to advance if they think you’re going to fight them too much.” He shuddered a little as he thought about him and Riko, about his new scars and- no, not then. “You behave or they break you.”

Patel was quiet for a dozen or so yards, having to focus to keep up with him despite her advantage of height. “Like they do to you and Jean?” When Neil stumbled for a step or two, she pointedly looked ahead with a slight flush on her round cheeks. “Sophie told me… well, she said something about you and Jean having a special contract with the Moriyamas because of being Perfect Court, of having more pressure on you and everything.”

Neil had wondered how his and Jean’s situation was explained to the rest of the Ravens, and supposed that what McPherson had told Patel worked in the end – it wouldn’t do for the team to know what the Moriyamas were involved in, that the games were a cover for criminal activities. “So listen to me, then, okay? Stop being so damn stubborn and do what Jean tells you.” Or Neil wasn’t going to be able to intervene when Tetsuji came for her – Tetsuji or Riko. Because Neil knew there wasn’t anything he had to barter with when it came to the elder Moriyama, and Riko would just have to threaten Jean to get him to cave.

They were quiet until they were back on the outer part of the track again. “You see, I don’t really know anyone back in Kolkata, where my family’s from since my parents came over here years ago. I’m the youngest.” Patel gave Neil a bit of a shy smile while she spoke. “I wouldn’t say I was a surprise, but there’s definitely a bit of a gap between me and my two brothers and sister. It was good, though, because my parents basically let me do what I wanted.” Her smile softened while she talked. “It’s not that they don’t care about me, it’s just that they learned by then that we were happiest if they didn’t meddle too much, didn’t put all these expectations on us. So my dad cheered for me at my games and my mom told her friends that there wasn’t anything wrong with me playing something like Exy.”

She looked over at Neil and her smile faltered when she found him still looking straight ahead. “Ah, what about your family? Do they support you? I mean-“

“They’re busy working and we’re not really close,” Neil lied with a straight face. “But they’re glad I’m here.” That was only half a lie, he supposed – his mother was beyond caring anymore since she was dead and his father probably was pleased that his wayward disappointment of a son was finally where he was supposed to be after so many years.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Patel said, and he actually believed her because she wasn’t the type to bother with lying over something like that. “Anyway, so I was saying that we’re not really close with the family back in Kolkata, right?” She seemed to realize that it was a good idea to change the subject and he nodded, only too willing to move on from his parents, be they real or imaginary. “Yet once word got out that I’d gotten a scholarship here, a few cousins I barely knew I had reached out to me.” Her expression turned stubborn again. “They just wanted to wish me well, to tell me how excited they were that I, a _girl_ , was able to go to university on a scholarship, that I was playing for a team like the Ravens. They were so _proud_ of me. I don’t even think they know much at all about Exy, but they know about the Ravens and Riko, they know it’s a big deal and they can say that their cousin is _here_. So I want to do my best for them and every asshole who sneered at me, who told me that I should play soccer or be a cheerleader or do something else where I wouldn’t get hurt.”

Neil couldn’t understand what she was saying, not really. He _could_ understand the desire to be as good as possible at Exy, to push his body to the limits and beyond, to fight and fight and _fight_ on the court because for once he felt alive, felt that he was something more than a lie when he was out there with a racquet in his hand and chasing after the ball, pitting himself against the other players to get that point. But he wasn’t doing it to make someone else proud, to be an example (who would be proud of him? His mother was dead and would beat him bloody for stepping onto a court, his father didn’t give a shit about him other than to pay off an old debt). No, he couldn’t understand anything about Patel other than wanting to excel at Exy.

“So you’re going to stop being a pain in the ass?” he asked.

Patel shot him a sour look while tucking back a stray lock of hair. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re a lousy listener?”

“Funny, Jean says that to me all the time, usually followed by how much I’m a devil and a curse upon his existence,” Neil mused. “I don’t see how they’re related, though.”

“Yeah, I’m not surprised.” Patel laughed a little as she shook her head. “Yes, I’ll do my best.” She wiped at the sweat gathering on her forehead. “I mean, I don’t want to end up like poor Ed.”

Neil grimaced at that, uncertain what would become of the rookie goalkeeper – he either buckled down and learned the drills or… well, when did a Raven wash out? “So complain less and practice more.”

“But I’m already doing all I can,” Patel argued. “I busted my ass to get that second drill down. The only one who works harder on this team is you.” That time it was her turn to falter as she stared at him, a wide grin coming over her face a couple of seconds later. “Hey, you’re out here all day or whatever. You and Jean.”

For a moment Neil almost told her ‘no’, but he remembered about the phone and laptop. “It’s going to cost you if you want to crash our private practices.” He didn’t think Tetsuji would object, not if it meant another Raven improving their skills, and it would be a way for him to get his hand on at least a phone he could trust, maybe one for Jean, too.

Despite that condition, Patel was quick to nod. “Anything!” Then her expression grew guarded. “I mean… not _anything_. Not that you and Jean seem to-“

So she’d either figured out _that_ out on her own or someone had warned her, which Neil wasn’t going to think about at the moment. “ _No_ , let’s just say that you better have some pocket money saved up.” When she nodded, relief flashing across her flushed face, he nodded back. “We’ll talk more later when we’re alone, but fine, you can start working with Jean and me tonight.” He waited until they ran a few more steps. “Don’t say anything about it, though, not even to Jean or Curtis. It’s best for everyone.”

“I sorta figured that out myself,” Patel said in a quiet voice. “I’ll, uhm, I’ll tell Meg that you’re planning on working me into exhaustion so I’ll be too tired to give you and Jean any more lip.”

That should do if any of the other Ravens asked about the new arrangement, too – that he was both punishing Patel while giving her a chance to prove herself. “You know if you don’t improve then it’s going to look bad for you, right?”

“I’ll get better,” Patel swore. “If I’m not on the court by the end of this season then I’ll be set for a spot the next.”

They were quiet again as Neil indicated for them to start slowing their pace so they could cool down. When they came to a stop, Neil nodded once. “I hope so, because it may be you either get there soon or never.” Tetsuji might hold it against the girl if she made a play for a higher number and failed.

“I will,” Patel swore without any reservations.

Jean took the news about as well as Neil had expected. “ _Are you not content unless you’re doing something utterly insane_?”

“Why are you always so dramatic?” Neil asked, before he shook his head. “ _Never mind, you’re French, you can’t help it, but still._ ” He ignored the rude gesture directed his way as he poked at the pile of cooked kale on his plate that he refused to eat. “ _She’s good enough that she can benefit from the practices._ ” He’d wait until they were alone and somewhere safe to tell his friend about the phones.

“Still….” Jean reached over to eat the kale himself, while leaving his apple untouched for Neil to have instead. “ _If she does get better, it’ll put her into competition with the other strikers. She’ll need to be warned about that_.”

One thing at a time, Neil told himself. Avery Tollis was probably whom Patel would need to watch out for the most, who would see Patel as a threat to taking her spot since she was the highest ranked female striker, but Neil knew from bitter experience that the men wouldn’t be pleased with the competition, either.

Yet he had to admit to feeling like he’d accomplished something when she showed up that ‘evening’ and didn’t bitch once when Jean talked her through the basics of the third drill, or when they spent the last half an hour, her and Neil, trying to get past Jean’s impressive as hell defense to land a ball in the empty goal while the bastard mocked them in accented English.

“Is he always as insufferable as this?” she asked after Jean had compared them to lumbering cattle, leaning against her racquet for support and a little out of breath.

“I think he’s a bit amused tonight and so is taking it easy on us,” Neil said as he gave his partner a rude gesture.

“Wonderful.” She managed a remarkable amount of sarcasm in that one word, and cheered when Neil made a goal a minute or so later.

When Jean called an end to the session (they needed a few hours of sleep, after all), he nodded to Patel. "You telegraph your moves like a cheap fan dancer, I can see where you're going with the ball from halfway across the field," he told the young woman while she glared at him. "As for you," he waved to Neil with a casual flick of his right hand, "you need to be more aggressive still. Runt that you are, you have to step it up some more or you might as well just lay there on the floor to be walked all over."

"I adore you, too, my crusty French baguette," Neil taunted the bastard, and had to bite back on a smile when Jean's eyes went wide at the improbable nickname.

"This 'baguette' can grind your devil ass into the court, _rosbifs_ ," Jean shot back.

"Look, as much as the two of you are so cute when you get like this, I'm tired and offending myself. Are we done so I can hit the showers?" Patel asked in a plaintive manner as she pulled off her helmet to wipe back her sweaty bangs. "Here again tomorrow for more abuse?"

"We are not _cute_ ," Neil and Jean argued at the same time.

"Right," Patel drawled as she nodded toward the exit. "Done now?"

Jean gave her a sliver of a smile. "Not until the court is cleaned, which falls on the lower ranked to do." His smile strengthened when Neil glared at him as well as Patel. "Have fun, you two, while I take care of the equipment." He walked away with their racquets while whistling 'La Marseilles'.

"Really?" Patel asked with outraged disbelief while Neil sighed and went to fetch the cleaning clothes.

"Never, _ever_ trust a Frenchman," Neil told her. "Add that to the rules you need to learn to survive here. They sucker you in with that accent and the fancy aesthetics, so never trust them."

Patel's eyes narrowed as she looked him up and down. "And what about British guys, huh? Which I'm still trying to figure out when you're supposed to be from out west or something."

Neil thought about his mother and gave her a hint of his father's smile, which made the girl's eyes go wide. "Oh, I'd be cautious about them, too. Now let's get this done before that bastard finds another way to torment us."

Sooner or later Patel would learn that the best way to survive the Nest would be to watch out for herself and only herself. The only question would be how badly she’d be burned before then.

*******

Andrew lay on the bleachers and stared into the lights overhead; he wondered if he focused on them long enough if he could go blind. On the one hand, _blind_ , but on the other hand, no more Exy. Hmm, pros and cons and pros and cons….

He could smack people on the knees with a walking stick if he was blind. Get a cool cane with a hidden sword in it. Reply ‘why yes, you fucktard’ when people asked ‘what are you, blind?’. The pros were piling up higher and higher the more he thought about them, while the cons were currently squabbling out on the court.

Ha, _cons_.

“This is such a stupid thing! Why do I have to do it?”

“Because every Raven has to master this one before the Master will even consider letting them out on the court – they work hard on this and the rest of the drills to prove they’re worthy for a spot on the line,” Kevin argued.

“But I’m not a damn Raven,” Yee shouted at him, which made Andrew look out over the court while spots danced in his vision for a couple of seconds. “I don’t even know who the hell that ‘Master’ is, I’m a Fox!” Yee flipped up his visor so he could glare at Kevin. “I thought you were, too.”

Ooh, score one for the rookie, Andrew thought as he tapped his fingers on top of his chest. Perhaps the lack of sleep was getting to the kid, or perhaps he was realizing that Kevin was an annoying ball of Exy and anxiety who deserved to be smacked down in his place on a regular basis. Andrew approved, as long as the kid kept it to a verbal smack-down.

“We’re going to be facing off against them in a couple of months,” Kevin gritted out as he slammed the end of his racquet against the hard surface of the court. “So we need to be ready – _you_ need to be ready. That’s why you’re here for these extra practices.”

Andrew could see the internal struggle going on inside of Yee – the pride at being singled out for the late night practices yet the need to be a contrary pain in the ass. “You really think I can learn these Ravens’ drills?”

Kevin only paused for a moment. “Yes, if you work hard enough and focus on them.”

Liar, liar, pants on fire, Andrew thought to himself as he pulled out his lighter and pack of cigarettes. Ah, someone was much too hopeful just then, weren’t they? The both of them, really, because Yee was listening to Kevin explain the drill yet again as if he had any hope of learning it sometime that year and Kevin for going through with the farce. Yee wasn’t _that_ bad… but the Ravens would never pay the kid any attention other than to slam him face first into the wall of the court on their way to score a goal.

Things were going to be interesting come October, yes they were – well, ‘interesting’ in a relative sense, since everything to do with Exy was oh so boring. Andrew should have a good view of the massacre from his spot in the goal for half the game, at least. He idly wondered what would happen first – Gordon being red-carded for a fight, Kevin having a nervous breakdown, or Yee getting his ass handed to him by a bunch of over-privileged birds. Hopefully all of that would happen in the first half when Renee was in the goal and the game would be forfeited so Andrew could pack up his ‘monsters’ and head to Columbia a little early for once.

It wasn’t like everyone already knew the outcome of the match already, the only question was how badly the Foxes were going to be beaten. Andrew had put in just enough effort last season to keep the team’s precious Class I status, but he wasn’t going to exert himself that much again no matter how many bottles of whiskey Wymack attempted to bribe him with, not with a certain Exy junkie here now. His work was done, let someone else rail against the futility that was the Foxes.

As if one new player in the mix would ‘fix’ the broken mess that was the team – what was Kevin thinking? Not even if he somehow managed to draft that Moreau guy he moaned about now and then when he was drunk (guilty conscience much? Andrew detected a story there, but he didn’t really care to dig it out considering Day’s love for drama) would the Foxes be anything but halfway decent. They still had Gordon fucking things up for them by causing unnecessary fights, Boyd wasn’t a fan of Kevin and did the opposite of what the striker wanted half the time out of spite, Nicky was a better drama queen than a backliner and Aaron didn’t give a shit, and oh, wait, Andrew couldn’t be bothered, either.

Maybe he should go back to staring at those lights, he mused as he blew out a plume of smoke.

Or perhaps he should look into something that caused deafness, because he was getting awfully bored with listening to Kevin shout at Yee and Yee yell back, voice all crackly with offended pride and hurt wittle emotions. Someone was having problems with the drill (hadn’t Kevin said it took _Ravens_ a while to get it down? So of course the moron expected Yee to figure it out right away) and per the patented Kevin Day school of coaching, Kevin figured that screaming at Yee would help speed things up.

Andrew would say that he didn’t know what he’d done to deserve to be stuck in the stadium around midnight while this inanity went on when he could be in bed or working his way through a six-pack of beer. Except the problem with perfect recall was that he very well _did_ know what all he’d done, not that he believed he’d enjoyed half of it enough to warrant being inflicted with Day and Yee, let alone the rest of the Foxes.

There was that saying about hindsight and all, so he swore to himself to savor any and all misdemeanors, felonies and so forth to the fullest in the future. Never let it be said that he wasn’t one to learn from his mistakes.

Also, no more making any deals with Exy junkies.

Practice came to a halt about an hour later when Yee blew out his arms from repeatedly taking swings at the cones and failing to knock most of them down, which left Kevin in a foul mood and Yee refusing to accept that he’d failed. Stubborn, stupid shit, the kid was, so Andrew told him to shut up or else he’d be walking back to the Tower. That meant he had to put up with Kevin’s glowering in the passenger seat and Yee sulking in the back.

Once they reached their respective rooms, Kevin headed straight for the alcohol. “It standard to overwork a rookie like that back at Evermore?” Andrew asked as he fetched some water to wash down his pill before going to bed.

Kevin paused in gulping down the vodka to give him a puzzled look. “Since when do you care?”

“I don’t,” Andrew admitted in a flat voice as he leaned against the doorway leading into the hallway. “Not about Yee, not about this team and definitely not about this stupid sport. But what’s the point of dragging him and me to these practices if you’re just going to fuck him up?”

“I’m not-“ Kevin slammed the half-empty bottle onto the counter and rubbed at his face with his left hand before he lowered it and stared at the scars snaking across its back. “He needs to get better and we don’t have much time.” A weak laugh slipped past his lips while he shook his head. “We all need to get better. The Ravens-“

“Boring,” Andrew sang out. “Try saying something else for once, you’re like a parrot that only learned one phrase. I’m about to take you back to the pet store for something more amusing.”

Kevin flushed at that. “Will it be so amusing when they show you up on your own court? You have a lot of talent, Andrew, but as you are right now? They’re going to make you look like a complete amateur.”

“Did you miss that ‘I don’t care’ part?” Andrew gave Kevin a two figured salute as he turned away. “It’ll just be like most of our games, we lose so no big deal.”

“You have to care about something sometime,” Kevin called out after him.

No, he didn’t, and certainly not about anything related to Exy.

*******

Neil bit back on a yawn as he and Jean left the showers once they were done with afternoon practice - classes started the next day so Tetsuji had switched them back to twenty-four hour days over the weekend, something Neil was still struggling to adjust to along with the anxiety of, well, _everything_. Of walking out of the Nest and facing all of the other students on the campus, of Friday's game, of losing his anonymity.

Of taking that first real step forward to spending his life playing Exy for the Moriyamas.

"Come, let's get some coffee and go over your class schedule," Jean offered as he nodded in the direction of the closest break room. Since Jean was majoring in French Literature (a clear sign that the Moriyamas didn't expect him to do anything once he graduated except go pro for them), most of his classes were in the general vicinity of Neil's, which was good. As much as Neil was used to doing things on his own, on taking care of himself in a new environment... he felt better about facing class the next day with Jean nearby.

They had just started to one of the several break rooms scattered about in the Red Hall when Nakamura approached them. "Josten, come with me," the assistant coach ordered, so of course Neil nodded after sharing a brief look with Jean and followed without saying a word, cautious as always around an older adult male. At first he wondered what he'd done to 'deserve' a meeting with Tetsuji since all of the extra practices were paying off for both him and Marley, when he finally had some hope of not embarrassing himself and the Ravens come Friday (or at least not by _much_ ).

Then Nakamura led him to the elevator which would take him up to the East Tower and a new set of concerns filled him, made him want to fidget as he waited for the elevator to reach the top floor.

Tetsuji was already in the room, along with DiMaccio and Lola, which was an unpleasant surprise. The woman's dark eyes alit with a malicious gleam when she spotted him and she stalked over with ease on high heeled stilettos. "My oh my, don't you look scrumptious, Junior?"

Neil refused to show how much the nickname bothered him, especially with Ichirou standing by the windows watching. "Lola." He couldn't say much else just then, couldn't say how he thought the woman should be busy slumming it with some disgusting lowlife because that was what she did best - not with Ichirou and Tetsuji in the room.

Lola gasped in mock astonishment and clutched her clasped hands to her chest, which was barely covered by the low-cut top of her bright red shirt - she always did like to dress in a way to distract her targets while she moved in for the kill. "What, nothing else to say to me? It's been so long, after all." She grinned, her teeth bright behind the glossy lipstick she wore. "You're right, Pat, someone's finally teaching the brat some manners. Too bad we’re so busy that we can’t stick around to watch."

"Enough," Ichirou called out in an even voice, and it was almost comical to see that smile be wiped from the bitch's face and the way she stepped back; Neil could tell that Lola didn't appreciate being put in her place, but she couldn't do much about it - well, not then, at least. He had a feeling that someone lower down on the food-chain was going to pay for it later... but for once it wouldn't be him, not as long as he was at the Nest. At least, not at Lola’s hands, at Lola’s knives.

DiMaccio stepped forward and held out a box with a black ribbon on it to Neil. "Here, this is for you, from your father." Tetsuji's mouth flattened with slight but evident displeasure while the enforcer spoke, but he didn't move or say anything, didn’t make a vocal objection. "Of course the first time you use it on any of your betters, _I'll_ use it to flay you alive, but you'll be outside soon enough without that cunt watching your back. You better have remembered your lessons, Junior. If not, Lola will start them back up again."

Neil forced his dry throat to swallow as he first accepted the box then removed the ribbon and opened the ‘gift’ to reveal a hand-sized folding knife - the outer metal was dull and rough enough to keep the hilt from sliding in his grip in case it got slick with blood, but with one simple touch of a button the blade flicked open all razor sharp and shining. It felt perfectly weighted in his hand, was a quality weapon and Neil had to push down the repulsion he felt upon holding the thing. He had wanted it, after all, and could understand why his father had allowed him to have it – he was still the Butcher’s son even if he wasn’t being called ‘Wesninski’. Someone might recognize him, someone associated with his father and only too happy to strike at a supposed weak spot, so he’d need to defend himself.

All he cared about was that he had something to protect Jean and Marley and Meg, if need be, had something so he wasn’t useless anymore. No more batteries in a sock, no more umbrellas or whatever else he had to scramble to improvise.

“Tell him…,” Neil had to push down the hatred and disgust he felt for his father as well, “’thank you’.” The words came out mostly civil despite his emotions, in large part because of the last couple of months at the Nest, after all the weeks spent dealing with Riko.

“Remember what I said, Junior,” DiMaccio warned as he gave Neil a flat look, a picture of pure menace with his hooded eyes glowering and impressive physique covered in the taut expensive material of his dark suit. “Keep behaving or else.” With that vague threat issued, he gave a polite bow of his head to Ichirou before he and a smirking Lola left the room.

Neil tucked the knife into the right front pocket of his black track pants for the time being (he’d work with the clip later to figure out the best placement for the smoothest draw), and shoved the now empty box and ribbon in his back pocket. While he did that, Ichirou moved away from the window to approach, his guards alert around the large room.

“I see that they cleaned you up,” the Moriyama heir commented; he must be referring to the return of Neil’s natural hair color and the haircut he’d suffered through the other week in anticipation of the start of the season – the rest of the freshmen had gone through a ‘makeover’ as well, because of the expected media attention which came along with them being Ravens.

“Yes, Lord Ichirou,” Neil said as he forced himself to remain still, doubly so now that he could be considered armed. He wasn’t pleased with Ichirou’s presence or interest in him, since Riko’s mood hadn’t been the best the last few days with the approach of the new season. The last thing Neil wanted was to play on Friday when sliced up by the psychotic prick… not when they had to beat Belmonte with enough of a point difference to prove to everyone that it wasn’t a mistake for the Ravens to switch districts.

When _Neil_ had to prove that it wasn’t a mistake, the ‘4’ on his cheek.

Ichirou came to a stop within arm’s reach of Neil and eyed him up and down in an impersonal manner for several seconds. “An improvement indeed,” he remarked as he reached out to run his fingers through the damp curls falling onto Neil’s forehead, tucking them back for a moment before his fingers trailed down to the ‘4’ tattoo on Neil’s cheek. During the whole ordeal, Neil made certain to remain entirely still, to not give the bodyguards any reason to suspect that he posed a threat to Ichirou even though the Moriyama heir had about four inches on him and at least twenty pounds, was armed with at least one gun and wasn’t exhausted from continuously working out.

“They’re wrong, you don’t look entirely like your father,” Ichirou said while once again, Neil did his best not to react to the jab, to not flinch; he didn’t think he was entirely successful, though, since there was a hint of a smile on the young man’s lips. “Do well on the court so you can make us a lot of money.” His fingers slid into Neil’s hair again and tightened their grip. “Pay back what you owe us and so much more, once they see you.”

It was so very, very difficult to not go for the knife, to not lash out, but Neil knew the slightest motion on his part would bring the guards down on him… him and possibly Jean as well. So he forced the anger and hatred back, bottled it up along with the spike of fear and continued to hold Ichirou’s dark gaze – he was used to being toyed with by psychotic bastards, after all. He knew the drill, knew not to show that fear yet not to throw any new fuel onto the fire. Years of being on the run, of dealing with his father’s people long enough to give his mother time to get into place, to set the best trap, of dealing with his father himself… he remained still and kept his tone civil as he answered. “I plan on doing my best for Lord Ichirou and his family. I know the price of failure.”

“Yes, I suppose you do, Nathaniel Wesninski.” Ichirou’s other hand came to rest against Neil’s chest, against the scars covered by the thin black t-shirt. “How pleasant, to learn that you’re so eager to serve me.” He tugged Neil a bit closer with the hold on his hair, until Neil had to arch his neck in order to still hold the man’s gaze.

They stood like that for several seconds, Ichirou’s expression unreadable while Neil tried to figure out if there was something he was supposed to say, while the young crime lord’s left hand inched its way up to grasp his chin. Finally, Neil managed a slight swallow and decided on a neutral “I am your servant,” as pathetic and trite as it sounded, as bile rose in his throat and he struggled with the urge to spit it into the smug face hovering above his own.

“Really? We shall see then, shall we?” The fingers tightened against his chin, in his hair, for a second or two before he was let go and Ichirou turned away to speak to Tetsuji in Japanese, something about… Neil thought it was endorsement deals and the guest list for Friday, but he was only picking up on every couple of words and would be grateful for the start of his Japanese language classes the next day.

One of the bodyguards motioned for him to leave, so Neil gave the two Moriyamas a slight bow before he did that, and was grateful to find Nakamura waiting for him outside of the room so he had an escort back to the Red Hall.

Of course Riko was waiting for him when he reached the main floor, and once again Neil had to force himself not to go for the knife when he was slammed into the wall next to the closing elevator doors while Nakamura walked away as if seeing nothing. “What did my brother want?” Riko demanded as he choked Neil for several seconds, then finally loosened the hold so Neil could talk (oh, and _breathe_ , the psychotic bastard).

Pausing only a moment or two to draw in air, Neil kept his eyes closed during the time so he didn’t scowl at the bastard. “To… to remind me… of place,” he managed to gasp out. “Win games… or else.”

He opened his eyes to find a dubious Riko staring at him. “Nothing else?”

“No. Said… repay debt.” Neil rubbed at his throat as he pushed aside all thoughts about how weird Ichirou had been and focused on the gist of the conversation. “DiMaccio was there to give me something from my father, too.”

Riko waved that aside as non-consequential. “So it was just business,” he murmured, right before he punched Neil in the stomach hard enough that Neil was grateful that he hadn’t eaten any dinner yet. “You _will_ do well on Friday, Nathaniel,” Riko said in a too-sweet tone. “At least four points, or I’ll send four men into your room that night – and I’ll let them pick who they want to fuck. Do you understand?”

“ _Yes, captain_ ,” Neil said in Japanese – speaking the language helped to keep him from swearing, from giving in to his temper.

“Good boy.” Riko gave him a pat on the head as if he was a damn dog before walking away, and for a moment Neil imagined how it would feel to take the knife and stab the bastard in the kidneys, to sever his spinal column and then cut him someplace where it would take him a little while to bleed out so Riko could spend the last ten minutes or so knowing that he was dying, that _Neil_ had killed him.

He wrapped his arms around himself instead to hold in the anger, the violent temper he’d inherited from his father until his hands stopped trembling with the need to grab the knife, to grab onto Riko’s neck and keep squeezing until something broke, until- Neil began naming all of the cities where he’d lived with his mother, went through all of the aliases he’d had over the years and then counted from one to ten in every language he knew until his hands were steady once more and he felt more or less sane again.

More or less.

He garnished a mix of sneers and concerned looks on the way back to his room, where Jean was quick to jump from his chair only to flap his hands in the air a few times before gently grabbing Neil by his arms and leading over to Jean’s bed, which was closest. “ _What happened now_?” he asked as Neil sunk down on the soft surface. “ _Do I need to get the_ -“

“ _It’s fine_ ,” Neil assured him. “Merely a love tap from our dear captain, give me a couple of minutes.” He pressed his hands against his abdomen to make sure that it was just bruised and sigh. “ _Ichirou’s here so of course the little prick was jealous_.”

“Oh.” Jean hesitated just a moment before sitting down next to Neil. “ _What happened_?”

Neil recounted his strange visit in the East Tower, going over his father’s ‘gift’ to him (Jean’s lips twisted at that but he didn’t say anything) and Ichirou’s odd behavior. That did get a reaction out of the backliner, made Jean’s thick dark brows rise nearly to his hairline. “ _You can’t be serious_.”

“ _I guess he’s driving home how I belong to the Moriyamas, right_?” Neil gave his partner a thin smile which faltered when Jean stared at him in an incredulous manner. “ _What?_ ”

“ _Surely you can’t be that naïve, even if you’re a blithering fool most times_ ,” Jean said as he rubbed at his forehead as if he had a headache. “ _Do you really not get it_?”

“ _Get what_?”

“ _Mother of our savior_ ….” Jean buried his face in his hands for a couple of seconds before he let out a harsh breath. “ _The man was basically propositioning you, you fool_!”

“ _Proposi-_ ooh.” Neil frowned at that as he tugged on a strand of hair. “ _No, I don’t think so_.” Didn’t that involve kissing or asking for… hmm, no, he didn’t think so.

“ ** _Yes,_** ” Jean insisted as he jumped from the bed. “ _And you basically said ‘yes’ to him_.”

Neil stilled at that. “ _I…_.” He played the interaction through his mind again, thought of Ichirou touching him and his response. “ ** _Fuck_**.” Then he shook his head. “ _But he didn’t do anything_.”

“ _He didn’t do anything **yet**_ ,” Jean said as he cautiously approached the bed and sat back down. “ _But who knows with him? Maybe it was a test of sorts to see your reaction. He’s the heir, I’m sure he has much better things to do than play with Riko’s toys_.” The last part came out rather bitter, but then, Jean had long ago reconciled himself to his fate in life.

For the most part.

“ _I just have to make sure I give little reason to go in front of him again_ ,” Neil argued. “ _Play the game to win and everything_.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Jean agreed, and for a minute or two they huddled next to each other, grateful for the safe company they found in the other’s presence, before Jean gave him a slight nudge. “ _Get your laptop, we only have a few minutes before dinner_.”

“Okay.” Neil gave Jean a grateful smile as they went over his schedule yet again, as his partner made sure he had the campus memorized and knew where to meet back up with Jean and other Ravens between his classes, until it was time for them to eat before the final practice of the night. Marley and Meg joined them, Meg excited about the start of classes and Marley complaining about how school was cutting into her practice time.

Something sad crossed Jean’s face for a moment before he chided the rookie striker and explained to the girls about how they would be expected to have their phones charged at all times so they could answer any texts that he or Neil sent them requesting items such as coffee, tea, snacks or something they’d forgotten back in their suite. With the start of the school year, the girls were on official ‘gopher’ duty.

Neil suspected that flash of sadness had to do with Marley reminding Jean of Day; his friend still hadn’t said much about the traitorous former Raven, hadn’t explained in any detail about Day’s departure from the Evermore (Neil was beginning to suspect that Jean might have played a part in it and so was afraid of Riko finding out), but there had been a comment or two about Day’s dedication to the sport from a careless Raven or two.

So he sought to change the subject before Jean's mood worsened. "How often are you going to have these two run about fetching you your beloved coffee?" Which was an exaggeration, since they were all restricted on the amount of caffeine they were allowed because of their strict diets, and Jean was careful to parcel out the precious couple of cups a day he was permitted.

The question provoked a haughty sniff from Neil's partner and knowing smiles from the girls. "As if I bother with les déchets they serve on campus." Then he pushed Neil's tray closer. "Oh, look, all that lovely kale just waiting to be consumed."

"Wanker," Neil muttered as he stabbed his fork at the detested greens, which the dieticians seemed determined to force down his throat one way or another.

"Well I for one am ordering the biggest mocha latte I can tomorrow," Meg said with a wistful smile as she speared a piece of chicken breast with her own fork. Marley shot a quick, hopeful glance at Jean, who shook his head in warning; somehow it didn't surprise Neil that their purchases on campus would be tracked.

"I just want something spicy, dammit," Marley muttered as she pouted at her own half-finished dinner. "I used to complain about my dad's cooking but now I'd maim someone for a couple of his dishes, something with a nice kick of flavor."

"Check with Sophie," Jean said as he ate his meal without any complaint, as usual. "She should know where to go for approved meals off campus."

That seemed to cheer the girls up, with Meg chattering about the upcoming fall banquet for a while and Jean taking pity on Neil after he choked down almost half of the damn kale. Soon enough it was time for their evening practice, where of course Riko seemed to target Neil as if determined to remind him of his 'place' and Tetsuji turned a blind eye to it all. After that, Neil, Jean and Marley only put in an hour or two of extra practice since it would be a busy first day of class and they got ready for bed.

Neil wasn't surprised when he didn't manage much sleep, when he woke up with nightmares where his fellow students rose up to point at him, to call him 'Junior' and 'the Butcher's son'. He was bleary-eyed and weary when it came time to officially wake up, so much so that Jean handed over his own precious cup of coffee after an abbreviated morning practice, which made Marley gape at them in shock and Meg to grin like an idiot.

Then, per Tetsuji's orders, Meg and Jean applied some special make-up to Neil's left cheek which covered the '4' tattoo (and a bruise on his jaw from practice the other day, Neil had a feeling he'd be using the stuff a lot in the future. He had a feeling that Jean already used the stuff a lot) before they left for class. For the next two days, Neil's teachers and his fellow Ravens were under strict instructions not to refer to him by name during his classes or while out on campus. It wasn't until Friday that Edgar Allan would reveal their new starting striker, and it was only because they were Edgar Allan, was the league's champion team that they could get away with such a thing.

Riko was going to take great delight in showing the rest of the Class I division that he’d managed to recruit the striker that Kevin Day had wanted, that Edgar Allan had taken something away from the Foxes, just like the Foxes had taken something away from him. That he’d replaced Kevin Day with a no-name rookie who would help him beat the Foxes into the ground.

Considering that he was stuck in this damn mess because of Day and Minyard… Neil hoped that Riko was right about it hurting Day’s pride, about it causing the former Raven some pain. It was only a fraction of what Day deserved after leaving Jean behind to deal with Riko alone and after fucking up Neil’s life. Why did Day get to be free from the Moriyamas when he and Jean weren’t?

As for Minyard… well, who could figure out what the hell would bother a psycho like him? Neil already knew that the midget goalie had spent time in juvie and had charges pressed against him, and the little Jean knew about him (passed on by Riko and Day from back when they’d tried to recruit him), the bastard had been fucked up his whole life.

Neil tried to use his anger at those two to help push past the weariness and unease he felt at being out on the campus, the sun bright in his eyes to the point that Jean handed over a pair of sunglasses to help him cope with not only the natural light but all the bright colors – he was so used to seeing mostly black and red everywhere. His skin crawled with the feel of people staring at him, at the black jeans and black polo shirt he wore with a small red Ravens’ logo on the left sleeve – the same outfit which Jean wore as well. He could hear the whispers, could hear people asking each other who he was, what position he played, but Jean held his head high and pulled Neil along to their first class of the day.

That was Beginning Japanese for Neil, and the instructor, a middle-aged Japanese woman, gave him a curt nod before she pointed out a seat for him, and otherwise didn’t talk to him for the rest of the class, one he was glad to lose himself in despite already having a good basis of the language thanks to Jean’s help the last couple of months. A lab session followed, and he met up with Marley for an English Composition class they shared together, which was his last one for the day – the rest of his classes fell on Tuesdays and Thursdays, which freed up Fridays for games.

Marley walked with him to the one courtyard in front of the large dark grey stone building which housed the foreign languages studies, where Jean would meet up with them – she was majoring in International Studies at the moment, while Meg was still undeclared. “So, I can get the phones for you this weekend,” she said as she fussed with her bag. “Meg wants to go shopping on Saturday.” The rest of the Ravens had a few hours free on the weekends – everyone but Neil and Jean.

Neil shook his head. “Don’t do anything hasty.” He wanted to make sure that Riko wasn’t watching them, Riko or his father’s people. “Have fun and wait a week or two, okay?”

That earned him a puzzled frown, until Marley tapped her fingers on the strap of her backpack. “It’ll have to be another two weeks then, since we’re at Wilkes-Meyers next weekend.”

“That’s fine.” He was quiet for about a minute as a couple of girls gave him a pointed stare while they walked past. “Be careful and use cash.”

Marley rolled her eyes at the advice. “I know, you’ve told me that like a dozen times now. I’ll be sure to ditch Meg, too. Even got an excuse lined up about my phone being old and needing a new one, which is true.” She tapped the strap again and grinned. “My mom was so proud when I told her about Coach Moriyama acknowledging me twice in a week that she sent me some extra money so I can get something really nice for myself, but I’ll spend it on you, shorty.”

“Good, because my short ass is the reason you’re doing so well, you tall freak,” Neil shot back, which made Marley laugh. Neil noticed that more than a couple of guys were giving the rookie striker an appraising look, but Marley didn’t pay them any attention.

“I got so much grief about joining the girl’s basketball team and not Exy because of my height, but _so boring_ ,” she sang out. “I blame my brother Max, he’s into hockey and made me shoot pucks at him so he could practice goalkeeping. I guess I liked it a little too much,” she confessed with an impish grin.

“That explains so much about you,” Neil said in a deadpan manner, which made Marley call him an asshole and tousle his hair, right around the time that they approached Jean. The backliner arched an eyebrow at their antics, only to sigh when Neil shook his head. “I’ve discovered that Patel is a long-standing sadist.”

“Hey!”

“It explains why the two of you get along so well,” Jean said with a disapproving sniff, to which Neil gave him a rude gesture.

“Both of you are assholes,” Marley was pleased to inform them.

“Assholes who outrank you,” Jean reminded her with a tiny smile. “So….” He handed over his black messenger bag.

“Really?” Marley groaned, but she accepted the thing. When she looked at Neil, he hesitated before he shook his head.

“Not until Friday,” he told her. “In case anyone wonders about why you’re doing it for me.”

Jean nodded in approval. “Good thinking.” Neil’s number was currently hidden, but there had to be some curiosity about why he was with the team’s ‘3’, which should be offset with him hanging out with another freshman. “Let’s get your other fledgling and go.”

“So could do without all the bird references,” Marley muttered as they went to collect Meg and head back to the Nest. “But hey! We could be the Terrapins! I didn’t even know what the hell a Terrapin was until a couple of weeks ago.” She made a face. “A turtle? Really? Aren’t they ashamed of themselves?”

Jean joined in on the mocking of their ‘rivals’ for Friday, until Meg met up with them and told them they were being mean, that turtles were cute and she’d been bitten by her little brother’s pet turtle once and it had hurt a lot so they weren’t as harmless as they looked. Marley gave Neil a pointed look at that as if to say ‘what about _her_?’, but it had already been decided that Meg… while Meg was a good defensive dealer, she wasn’t a Raven, not really.

She didn’t have the same drive as Marley, she wasn’t as cut-throat as Tollis, she had enough skill to learn what Tetsuji taught but no… no special spark to push her to a higher rank. Still, that skill was more than what most Exy players had, was enough to get her a spot on a pro team – if she survived the Ravens.

Once back in the Nest (the walls were even more claustrophobic after being outside for a short while), Neil and Jean spent a short amount of time working on their assignments for the next day before they had lunch and then geared up for the afternoon practice session. The familiarity of the exercises settled Neil’s nerves, helped to push back the anxiety he felt about Friday even though off to the side he could hear Loiseau and Johnson deride Ross and Mills as they worked through the drills.

There wasn’t anything he could do for those two, and maybe seeing what happened to her fellow freshmen would make Meg toughen up, would make her listen to what Marley tried to tell her, would make her be more wary around Tollis and the others.

Maybe.

Jean was right in that Neil was a fool, and the French bastard some sort of mind-reader. “ _You can only do so much_ ,” Jean told him when Tetsuji made Meg run laps after having messed up the fourth drill for the second afternoon in a row while a guilty-looking Marley was given a rare opportunity to take part in the evening scrimmage. “ _There is that parable about horses and water, after all_.”

“ _Except this horse isn’t in danger of being beaten or worse, is she_?” Neil sighed when Jean’s expression went blank. “ _I… was I wrong, to step in for her_?” Would she realize the danger better if… he shook his head, his stomach twisting at the thought of Loiseau or one of the others getting their hands on Meg or Marley.

Jean’s motions were slow as he reached out to cup Neil’s left cheek to make him look up into worried grey eyes. “ _I believe you did what you thought was best, and that… no, you weren’t wrong. But there are no real good choices here in this hellhole_.” He gave Neil a sad smile as his thumb brushed against the tattooed number for a moment. “ _At least you’re doing what you can to make things better_.”

“ _For all the good it does_ ,” Neil sighed as he tilted his face into Jean’s hand; for so many years, the only person who had touched him without the intent to harm had been his mother, and even that had been… well, she had her reasons. She’d smacked or slapped him to keep him awake, to get his attention or to teach him a lesson, had pulled on his hair or scratched him to make him keep his emotions under control, to keep him conscious. Then he’d been dragged to Edgar Allan and touching- but it was all right when it was Jean with his gentle hands or Marley with her occasional teasing. Only them.

Only them.

At least Tetsuji’s disapproval seemed to have some effect on Meg since she put more effort into the evening’s practice, her face set in concentration as she knocked over the cones one after another while Neil fought with Tollis, Bautista and Saunders to keep from being slammed around like a ragdoll while on the court, as he backed Riko for several goals and even managed a few of his own. He traded a sharp grin with Marley when it was her turn to go out there, and leaned against Jean when she managed to take down Hebig with a trick she’d learned from him.

“ _I think… I think I’m feeling proud right now_ ,” he told his partner. “ _How odd_.”

“ _It’s from your tiny brain rattling around in that mostly empty head of yours_ ,” Jean informed him with a derisive tone. “ _That and you British oafs have set the bar very low when it comes to things to be proud of – beans on toast, of all things_.” He sniffed in obvious disgust. “ _Cretins_.”

“ _This from the people who eat camel’s feet_ ,” Neil said with a grimace, remembering the one small restaurant in Calais. Fortunately, they had just stopped for coffee and sandwiches, something quick, but he’d been mesmerized by the man’s order at the next table until his mother had pinched his leg hard for staring.

Jean glared at him for that, but Tetsuji was calling out a new set of plays so they had to pay attention and put their squabble on hold for the time being.

Neil managed to get a little sleep that night, mostly because he was so damn tired, and the next day was Tetsuji beating (in some cases literally – Adams had badly messed up the warm-up drill and Lincoln the scrimmage, but for once all the freshmen did a good job after those two glaring examples) the team into shape for Friday’s game, was pointed stares directed Neil’s way as he went to his three classes for the day (Japanese lab, European history and Nature of Language). By the time he went to bed that night, he was once again too exhausted to do anything but sleep, even with Riko reminding him about the necessary goals for the next day’s game.

Friday morning he was too nervous to have anything but a bit of tea and toast for breakfast after a grueling morning practice, and his hands trembled when he pulled on his Ravens’ jersey, the black and red overlarge shirt bearing ‘Josten’ and the number ‘4’ on the back – the same number left uncovered on his left cheek. For a moment he fantasized about taking out the knife in the right pocket of his jeans and slashing the jersey, of slashing the throats of everyone who stood between him and the exit out of the Nest… but he wasn’t just running from his father’s people anymore, was he? And he’d given the Moriyamas a couple of nice heavy leashes to yank him back if he ever got more than a few steps away.

His mother’s shade was cursing him for being a fool a thousand times over, but in the end he was going to play Exy.

Perhaps she would take some comfort in the fact that Jean cursed him as a fool a thousand times over for thinking such a thing on a daily basis.

It was difficult to get through his classes when everyone was whispering his name, when he heard _‘that_ Josten?’ over and over again, heard ‘Perfect Court, really?’, ‘but didn’t Kevin Day-‘, ‘what is Coach Moriyama thinking?’ and so forth. By the time he returned to the Nest, all he wanted to do was to hit something, to vent his frustration and stress that way, but a smiling Riko was waiting for him. Neil nodded to Jean that it was all right for his partner to continue to their room without him, which the backliner did with obvious reluctance. That left Neil alone with Riko.

Mustn’t hit the psychotic bastard, Neil internally chanted to himself. Mustn’t let the smug, psychotic reject spawn of a crime lord know that he was a useless piece of shit. Oh, was it difficult as hell to keep his mouth shut and merely nod at the prick instead.

Neil thought of Jean and Marley and Meg, of having to patch up his partner the way Jean had to put him back together much too often. “ _Yes, captain_?” That came out just civil enough to keep the smile on Riko’s face.

“We’ve plans for tomorrow,” Riko informed him. “A talk show down in Raleigh, so there’ll be an early morning flight – very early morning. Nakamura has your ticket and all the details.”

That prompted a frown from Neil as he examined the words for some sort of trap. “Why would I be going to a talk show? I’m a nobody.”

Riko seemed pleased by those words as he reached out to flick at Neil’s bangs. “Not quite, you’re a Raven nobody now, and part of my Perfect Court even if you’re an unknown rookie. People are interested in you, and it’s time to give them a glimpse.”

That seemed logical, and Neil knew from what Jean had told him that part of paying off his debt to the Moriyamas involved endorsement deals. Yet something felt off about the whole situation. “Why in Raleigh, though?”

Riko’s smile took on a predator’s edge. “We’re going to see an old _friend_.” He left it at that as he walked away, leaving Neil to believe that Day was involved somehow. That promised to be pleasant… but he had a game to worry about, so he returned to his room and only told Jean because his partner asked.

“That’s… that’s not good,” Jean said with a frown as he set his books on his desk with unsteady hands.

“Why do you care?” Neil asked. “He’s targeting Day, right? This isn’t about me, it’s about the traitor.” He frowned as well when Jean flinched. “ _What, do you actually feel sorry for him? For the guy who walked out of here without a thought for you?_ ”

Jean hunched over in his chair with his arms wrapped around his chest as if he was cold. “ _It’s… not that simple._ ”

“ _Isn’t it_?” Neil approached his friend and crouched down so he could look up at Jean. “ _You don’t think I never realized that my mother could have run that much faster, could have hidden that much easier from my father’s men if she left me behind?_ ” Especially now that he knew the truth? “ _That she could have stayed with her family in London and been safe if she didn’t have me with her_?” His uncles had argued for that (not the leaving Neil behind part), had tried to get Mary to stay with her family… yet they’d only remained there for a few days, and Neil understood that decision now. His father and the Moriyamas would have gone to the UK and forced Mary and the Hatfords to hand him over if they’d remained in one place long enough, so Mary had kept running. It had cost Neil’s mother her life, but she hadn’t parted with him. “ _You don’t give up on the people who matter to you_.” Which was what Day had done – he’d walked out of the Nest leaving behind someone he’d grown up with without looking back, had walked away knowing what Riko would do to Jean while only caring about him getting away.

Jean stared at him for several seconds before letting out a slight huff. “You are rather terrifying, which is only appropriate since you’re a devil.”

“It’s that weak French constitution of yours, you know,” Neil said in a grave manner as he stood up. “Maybe some of my Britishness will rub off and give you a proper spine.”

“And maybe I will kill myself now and save myself the horror of it all,” Jean griped as he rose to his feet as well. “Perhaps go out on the court without a helmet and hope a stray ball takes me out – not one of yours, puny runt that you are.”

“There you go, always taking the easy way out. It’s a miracle that all the black doesn’t bleach away when it comes in contact with you,” Neil teased, and barely avoided Jean’s swipe at the back of his head.

“ _Insolent devil_.”

They didn’t have much time to spar since they had to grab something to eat before the game, then sit through Tetsuji droning through the least thrilling prep talk ever (well, there was the ominous gleam in his eyes and the way he clutched his cane, which didn’t bode well for anyone who fucked up that evening. _That_ was ‘inspiring’ as hell) before a final review of the Belmonte Terrapins’ stats and usual strategies. Neil forcibly pushed past the nerves, especially at the sight of the full stadium and the row of news vans lined up to broadcast the game, and barely flinched when Marley patted him on the back for good luck.

The crowd was deafening as the Ravens stepped out onto the court, Riko in the lead with Jean and then Neil behind him, per their numbers. The sound of thousands of feet stomping and hands clapping was a physical throb in Neal’s body, the weight of all those eyes on him nauseating, yet he forced himself to focus on Jean’s back, on the familiar presence after so many weeks. Some of the awful tension inside of him relaxed when Jean rolled his eyes as if disgusted and called him ‘ _rosbifs_ ’ in a mocking tone.

When it came time for them to go out onto the court for the start of the game, Neil knocked their racquets together. “Don’t let me down, my crusty French baguette.”

“ _I am going to shove you into the Terrapins’ goal myself_ ,” Jean swore as he stomped along after Riko, his head held high and grey eyes flashing with annoyance.

“ _At least it’ll be a point in our favor_!”

“ _A devil sent to plague me_!”

Neil let him have the last word since they had to go to their assigned positions and Riko was giving them a narrow look, one that went away when Neil stood nearby and gave him a respectful bow of the head along with a ‘ _ready, captain_ ’. Riko held up four fingers on his right hand before he went to do the coin flip, and the crowd cheered (well, the Ravens’ fans at least, which was the majority of it) when Riko won the toss.

The game… the game was brutal right from the start, which wasn’t that much of a surprise. Belmonte was one of the best teams of the southeastern division, usually fighting with Breckenridge to win the division title, but they weren’t one of the big three. Hell, they weren’t even in the top ten.

As terrified as Neil had been about playing a ‘real’ game, about going out in the public and being proven to be a fake, that the number ‘4’ on his face was a mistake… the ruthless summer training schedule of the Ravens had dragged out whatever talent he’d possessed and honed it to a surprising extent (as had the inhumane cost of failure). He still wasn’t anywhere near as good as Riko and Jean… but he could hold his own against many of the other Ravens, which meant that he could more than hold his own against any of the Belmonte players.

The opposing team might be bigger than him, but he was faster and more ruthless, more desperate to get those mandatory four points. Yet he wasn’t foolish enough to neglect Riko, to attempt to steal the glory from his ‘captain’… not that it was an easy thing to do. As much as Neil loathed the older teen, Riko was one hell of a striker.

The Ravens were up by eight points by halftime, and Neil had two of his required goals already with the certainty of getting the other two in the second half. Riko even tousled his sweat-soaked hair in front of the cameras while wearing a wide grin on his face, as they both walked off the court in regards to Neil stealing the ball near the Ravens’ own goal while Jean held back two Terrapins and managing what should have been an impossible shot nearly halfway across the court to Riko, who had in return bounced it off the wall right into the Terrapins’ goal seconds before the clock ran out.

The crowd was still on their feet over that one.

“See? Isn’t it much better when you follow instead of fight me?” Riko told Neil.

Mindful of Jean at his back, all Neil did was bow his head so the prick didn’t see the hatred in his eyes and managed to mumble ‘ _captain_ ’ in an acceptable manner to earn him a cuff on the shoulder.

Neil would do whatever he needed to keep Riko under control – he was good at acting, at pretending to be something he wasn’t, after all. But he’d never stop fighting the bastard, only the tactics would change. Riko and Tetsuji had to have some sort of weakness, something he could use against the bastards, and he’d find it. He’d spent the last eight years of his life being trained to use the slightest advantage, to find the most improbable escape route and make it work, after all. He might have let his mother down on a lot of things, but not everything.

Riko wouldn’t win in the end.

*******

Andrew thought it had been tiring enough, dealing with Kevin back in June when he’d discovered Riko’s little stunt with the district switch and everything, with the Foxes finding out that they’d be facing the Ravens on the court that season. Dealing with the coward swinging back and forth between ‘we’re not good enough’ and fighting with the rest of the rejects as he struggled to make the Foxes into some sort of team ‘worthy’ of their Class I Exy status – fighting literally with Boyd and Gordon most days, to the point that Andrew was getting rather annoyed with having to remind those two morons about his ‘don’t touch’ rule.

Not even Kevin’s little shadow, Yee, could put him in a good mood, not when Kevin spent half his time griping about Yee’s lack of skill, about how he wasn’t learning fast enough. There’d been the failed attempt at joining in on the late night practices on the kid’s part, until he’d shown up twice the next morning with his arms blown out and Wymack had put his foot down.

A pissy Kevin was almost as bad as a sniveling Kevin, which was still better to the almost catatonic Kevin staring at the computer screen in Wymack’s office just then; the old man had called Kevin in after they’d finished their morning workout, something about the Raven’s finally announcing their season’s line-up – something about a new _striker_ they somehow hadn’t mentioned before that morning despite all the regulations and shit.

Hmm, wasn’t it suspicious, the Ravens getting away with something like that?

Andrew gave Wymack a flat look as he went around the man’s large desk, deliberately reaching out to push over a precariously stacked pile of folders along the way, to see what it was that had set off the coward _that_ time – what, had they managed to recruit Knox from the Trojans? “This better be worth the delay, I want to wash off,” Andrew warned as he came over to stand beside Day.

Kevin still didn’t say anything, he just made an abortive motion at the screen with his right hand, so it was Wymack who spoke. “I just found out a few minutes ago myself. All I knew was that they’d recruited someone but had asked the ERC to keep the name quiet until today, something about avoiding unwanted attention so the kid could focus on training. But they had to release it today because of the line-up for the game.”

Wymack had pulled up the player’s profile and stats, which were displayed on the screen, and Andrew found a rare jolt of surprise flaring inside of him as he looked upon a mostly familiar visage – _mostly,_ because unlike back in Millport, Neil Josten now sported striking pale blue eyes instead of insipid brown and bright auburn hair neatly trimmed along the sides with the longer strands falling into loose curls down his forehead instead of a dark unruly mess. The changes didn’t stop there, either – there was a black ‘4’ tattooed high on his now pale left cheek and a deliberate blankness to his expression that the rattled yet defiant runner hadn’t possessed back in the locker room.

He was still attractive as hell, too, even more so with the arresting make-over and what looked to be an improved diet. Attractive and an even bigger mystery.

“Huh, the rabbit grew wings rather than become a fox, how interesting.” Andrew pulled on a grin as he poked a still silent Kevin in the side of his face, right against the ‘2’ tattoo. “Guess he was serious about not playing with you.”

Hmm, it was also interesting how Kevin didn’t smack his hand aside or yell at him, he just flinched and closed his eyes as if to block out some horrible sight. “You still in there?” Andrew taunted.

“He….” Kevin finally spoke as he opened his eyes, his complexion waxy as he motioned again at the monitor. “He joined the Ravens.” Somehow that sounded more like a question than a statement.

Wymack frowned as he nodded, busy righting the pile of folders that Andrew had knocked over but not bitching about the fact, which was oh so telling. “They’re not giving out much information, just that he spent the summer training with them and he’s on the starting line-up.” His frown deepened when Kevin flinched again. “Guess you were right about the kid having talent.”

“Yeah.” Kevin swiped his right over his face as he laughed, the sound quiet and strained. “Yeah, he does. Uhm, I’m gonna… I have to shower and get to class.” Then he was moving out of the office in a hurry as if fleeing from something, which left Andrew and Wymack alone.

“Okay, that was fucked up,” Wymack said after a slight pause, as ever a master of words. “I expected him to be angry at Edgar Allan for swiping his pick, not _that_.”

Andrew quietly agreed, but he didn’t say anything, just knocked over another stack of folders before he left, which finally made Wymack curse him out. He found Kevin in the showers, but the man was quiet and didn’t say anything to him as they washed off and went to their classes.

That wasn’t suspicious at all, oh no it wasn’t. Just like anything to do with a certain former rabbit wasn’t suspicious at all. Andrew so did love being proven right, even if no one would acknowledge it.

Good at biding his time, at knowing when to exert minimum effort for maximum reward, Andrew let it go for the moment, content to allow others to do some of his work for him, to let Kevin stew for a while longer and for things to build. Because word soon got out that Neil Josten had ‘gone over’ to the Ravens, considering the topic, and it wasn’t pretty when things came to a head – when the team was gathered together before the game.

Gordon was smug as fuck, which just reinforced that he’d been behind the leak in the first place. Wilds and Boyd were pissed off, furious at the Moriyamas for snatching up what should have been the _Foxes_ ’ recruit, Yee was indignant that people were talking about the player who’d turned his back on the Foxes rather than _him_ , the guy who’d signed on with the team, and Nicky egged them all on, the moron. It got to the point that Andrew was a few seconds away from locking them in the changing room and pulling the fire suppression system, except Aaron was sitting in the middle of the fucking annoying lot.

That and Renee may have noticed him glancing over at the trigger system and had gotten up at one point to lean against the wall right next to the alarm. She met his flat gaze with a too-sweet smile and held it for several seconds, until he had to look away and still the twitch in his right leg as the damn drugs slowly worked their way out of his system. Just a little longer for the shit to pass through and no more annoying and distracting buzzing to pull at his thoughts or emotions, even if he would have to play some stupid game to earn it. Then he could ride out the crash with some alcohol, could use that and the sharp edge of curiosity to push back the nausea and need a little longer.

Answers were so much better than false euphoria, especially when they hurt others more than him.

Wymack had to yell at everyone to stop fighting amongst themselves and to pull their heads out of their asses so they could get ready to beat Breckenridge (Andrew scoffed at that, at how the man never seemed to accept the team for the lost cause that it was). There was some stupid speech which he ignored and soon enough it was time to go out onto court, to listen to the lousy music and cheers and then take the goal for the first part of the game.

At least he had a decent spot to watch the Foxes lose to one of the better Class I teams, to watch Kevin snap out of it for a little while – only to be hampered by Gordon getting into fights as usual, by Yee being too tentative and uncoordinated whenever he had the ball. When it came to halftime, they were down three to six.

It didn’t get any better in the second half, when Andrew sat out the game while Renee took over the goal, with Breckenridge winning ten to five when it was all said and done. Once the Foxes were back in the locker room, Wymack gave his spiel that it was just the start of the season before Wilds went on about how they hadn’t done that bad against a tough opponent. When she was done, Yee apologized for his fuck-ups while Gordon punched a locker and snapped at the kid that the team could do a hell of a lot better if they hadn’t been dragged down by his rookie ass. That led to Boyd shoving Gordon away and even Reynolds yelling at her sometime boyfriend, while Andrew motioned to the others to grab their stuff so they could get ready and leave.

Nicky winced a little at all the yelling but shook his head. “So loud. Really, what did they expect would happen tonight?”

“Especially with the way you play – or don’t play,” Aaron remarked in a deadpan manner as they entered the showers.

“Hey! I didn’t see you trying too hard out there, either,” Nicky complained.

Andrew waited for Kevin to make his usual ‘you both suck and should be ashamed of yourselves’ comment, and arched an eyebrow when the Exy addict merely entered a stall so he could wash off. Even Nicky noticed Kevin’s silence and sent Andrew a concerned look, then hurried into his own stall when Andrew narrowed his eyes.

Kevin spared them a recount of everything they’d done wrong during the game on the drive back to the dorms, where they were staying for once because a certain _someone_ had agreed to go on a television show the next day. A certain someone who was going to stay up all night, rather than Andrew have to put up with dragging him out of bed in a few hours.

Nick and Aaron joined in to have some drinks once they got back, but Andrew watched over Kevin to keep him from doing his usual ‘drink until passed out’ routine; his intent was two-fold in that if the alcoholic managed to drink himself into the usual Friday night stupor, Wymack was going to find him face down in the toilet when he came to pick up his precious media darling – and not from Kevin being hungover, oh no. That and Andrew needed a few brain cells to remain unpickled if he wanted answers.

Him snatching away the almost-empty bottle of vodka from a scowling Kevin was the sign for Aaron and Nicky to go to bed, since they were remaining on campus in the morning. “Either I take it or I smash it over your head,” Andrew told Kevin with a slight smile, which made the coward give up with a muttered curse and sit down at his desk to watch something on his laptop instead.

That ‘something’ turned out to be an Exy game, a recording of the Raven’s game from earlier in the night, a game where they’d played Belmonte. While the Foxes had taken on one of the best teams in the southeastern division (at least up until that season), the Ravens had taken on the other and decimated them. Oh, how amusing to see that reversal of fortune – not. To think that but for a simple twist of fate (and a broken bone or two), there could be Kevin, and Andrew could be at Eden’s enjoying himself.

Fate was a bitch and Riko was an abusive prick, but Andrew already knew both of those things.

He went off to brew some coffee, and returned with a mug for him and one for Kevin as well, some whiskey in both to nurse them through the remaining hours until they had to leave for Kathy Ferdinand’s show. The Exy addict appeared riveted by the sight of the players with the numbers ‘1’ and ‘4’ on their backs, with the way they raced across the court. While Andrew held no love at all for the sport, he knew it well enough after the last few years to recognize the skill which Riko displayed, the technical ability behind the seemingly impossible shots, the control in how he flung the ball across the court.

Compared to him, Neil Josten didn’t seem like much – at least not at first. But the kid was fast, damn fast. He could clear the court in a blink of the eye, could make those ten steps count by grabbing the ball and getting the hell out of the larger opponent’s way before he could be pinned down, aided by long legs for his height and swift feet. He didn’t seem to need to look to know where to throw the ball, either, and he was more than willing to take on opponents bigger than him (basically everyone else on the court) if it got him the ball or the shot.

He wasn’t Kevin, but he worked well with Riko due to that speed and flexibility, that determination and self-sacrifice. Especially when it was clear that he didn’t mind taking the hits and giving up the goals so Riko could shine. During the time that Andrew leaned against the wall and watched the game, Neil had scored one goal to Riko’s three.

“He’s improved,” was all Andrew said.

“He was holding back in Millport,” Kevin answered after taking a long swig of Irish coffee, his voice hoarse and expression haunted. “Maybe not intentionally, but… the Master got it out of him.” That prompted another long swig of coffee.

Andrew gave it a couple of minutes, gave Kevin a little more time to stew, then spoke up. “He’s not the only one holding back, is he?” He shifted forward to stand closer to Kevin. “What did you see in his team photo?”

Kevin’s face became flushed and he paused the game. “I don’t… I should get-“

“No.” Andrew reached out in a flash to snatch away the mug from Kevin’s weak grip, which made the drunk sink back in his chair as if to avoid contact. “What did you _see_?” He wanted answers _now_ , especially while Aaron and Nicky weren’t around.

The question provoked a blurry stare from Kevin, who then shook his head. “No, you don’t want to know that, it’s better that you don’t know.”

“I don’t think you understand how we play this game,” Andrew remarked with a mirthless grin while he waved the half-empty mug in the air. “I keep you safe, keep you out of Moriyama hands, and you tell me the truth, among other things. I ask you questions and you tell me no lies. Now, what the hell is going on with Neil Josten, hmm?” Why had the kid reacted so strangely around Kevin? Why had he refused to play with Kevin, yet signed with the _Ravens_ – a no-name rookie with one year behind him?

Why did he keep popping up like that? If he was supposed to be bait for Kevin, one would think he would have signed with the Foxes after all, unless his purpose was to snare Kevin’s attention to lure him back to Edgar Allan.

That just might happen, considering Kevin’s infatuation with the mysterious striker. Or had he been at Evermore? Did Kevin know him? Was that why Kevin was reacting this way? Was this all part of some convoluted Moriyama plot?

Kevin moaned a little as he clutched his left hand to his chest while staring at the laptop’s screen with a mix of longing and grief. “It’s… that’s just it, it’s the _Moriyamas_ ,” he stressed. “It’s things you don’t want to know.”

Andrew’s eyes narrowed upon hearing that, part of his suspicions confirmed. “Oh, but I disagree. They say confession is good for the soul, Day, something a nice Irish boy like you should know. So start confessing.”

There was a quick, longing gaze at the mugs held in Andrew’s hands and then Kevin slumped even more in his chair. “What do you know about Nathan Wesninski?”

That was an odd tangent, wasn’t it? “Nothing,” Andrew answered as he held off on returning the one mug for the moment. “Why?”

Kevin huffed a little and shook his head. “Because he’s Neil’s father – Neil’s real name is Nathaniel Wesninski. I didn’t realize it until I saw the photo of him earlier with the tattoo; he’d changed his appearance back in Millport.”

Why wasn’t Andrew surprised that it wouldn’t be a simple story? “Why would he do that?” he asked as he handed over the coffee, which the coward immediately snatched and finished off in a couple of swallows before he continued with the ‘lovely’ tale of a boy and boring Exy.

Andrew detested how it always seemed to come back to Exy.

“Because… because Nathan Wesninski is also known as the Butcher of Baltimore,” Kevin mumbled as he wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. “He works for the Moriyamas and runs a large criminal empire on the East Coast.”

Oh, now things were getting interesting, weren’t they? Now what would make a rabbit so twitchy with a family like that? “And yet his son was in some shit-hole town in Arizona playing Exy? Elaborate,” Andrew commanded as he sat down on the edge of the desk.

Kevin scowled at the order but wasn’t so drunk yet to not realize that it was in his best interest to comply. “Because about ten years ago, Nathan brought Nathaniel to Evermore so the Mast- ah,” that time he caught Andrew’s displeased look over the name, “so Tetsuji could evaluate how well Nathaniel played Exy.” His green eyes grew unfocused as he seemed to think back on that time. “Nathaniel played as a backliner then and was really good, so good that Riko and I knew that Mah- uhm, Tetsuji would take him on. Only he never returned because Wesninski’s wife apparently ran off with Nathaniel during the night and several million dollars as well.”

Andrew dwelled on the story for a minute or two while Kevin seemed to drift off into memories or unpleasant thoughts, considering the drawn, pensive look on his face. “So this Wesninski was going to _give_ Tetsuji his son?” Kevin had talked a little about the things that went on at Evermore, about how some of the players such as Moreau were basically indentured servants because their parents had given them to the Moriyamas to pay off debts; Andrew suspected he’d done it more to convince Andrew to keep him from going back there more than anything else.

“Yeah.” Kevin shook his head as the mug slipped from his hands. “I think… I think Nathaniel’s a bit like Riko. He can’t take over for Wesninski, so the Master found a use for him.” He frowned as he appeared to think of something. “Was gonna find a use for him. Oh, found him after all, yeah?”

Perhaps found him thanks to the shit Gordon had pulled, was more like it. Andrew had to wonder if ‘Neil’ hadn’t tried run after seeing Kevin, hence his disappearance, and then the Moriyamas had tracked him down thanks to the forum posts.

For a moment Andrew reflected on the possibility of someone having worse luck than him then scoffed. “Whatever, all that matters now is that he’s there now. He’s there and you’re here.” He gave Kevin a cold smile as he gestured to the room around them. “He turned you down so he’s not our problem anymore.” As he spoke, he leaned forward. “Or are you under the mistaken belief that this is a halfway house for Raven runaways?”

Kevin stared at him for a couple of seconds before shaking his head. “He can’t… no, he can’t come here.” He sounded like that thought terrified him.

“Then shut up already,” Andrew ordered before moving to go sit down on the couch; he had enough of Exy for the day.

Kevin resumed watching the game while Andrew split his time between reading a book and observing Day, and amused himself with throwing pillows at the pain in the ass whenever he saw that dark head begin to nod or droop forward. One time he even startled Kevin enough to knock him out of the chair, a rare burst of amusement filling him at the sight of those long limbs flailing and loud curses filling the room.

Soon enough they had to get ready to leave for Raleigh, North Carolina, with Kevin being even more of a surly asshole than normal until they got on the bus where they could sleep for the drive. Andrew managed to get a little rest, and once Kevin hit the studio, he lost the zombie-like effect from too-little sleep to pull on his ‘charming’ fake persona which always made Andrew’s fingers twitch to slide free a knife and cut off that too-bright smile. Yet Kathy Ferdinand seemed to eat it up, to fawn all over Kevin, and soon she and her assistants took him back to get him ‘ready’ for the show.

Andrew wasn’t pleased with having Kevin out of his sight like that, but Kevin said the show was necessary, was an important opportunity to give the Foxes some positive publicity, to highlight how far they’d come in a season and not let the Ravens overshadow them. To not let Riko win. Like Andrew gave a shit about any of that, especially when he could be in his own bed in Columbia at the moment, instead of sitting in an uncomfortable chair surrounded by a bunch of strangers with Renee on one side and Matt on the other.

At least Kevin was the first guest so they could leave once his interview was taped, though Andrew felt like gagging as he sat through Ferdinand acting like a bitch in heat with the way she kissed up to Kevin, laughing and smiling at everything he said. Andrew fought to sit still, to not get up and walk away, while Renee murmured to him that it would be just a little longer.

Then Ferdinand started in about Riko, about how hard it must be for Kevin to play on a new team without him, to see Riko move on with a new striker and everything. Kevin’s smile became a little strained but he kept his answers for the most part diplomatic (except for a dig at Seth), to attempt to distance himself from Riko and Edgar Allan. Except Ferdinand didn’t seem willing to let it go. She even asked Kevin about the school switching districts, to which Kevin proclaimed no knowledge to their reason why, the liar.

Andrew felt something twist inside of him at the way the woman smiled in anticipation just then, and Renee must have sensed something because she latched on to his right arm while calling out Wymack’s name. “Then I have a treat for you!” Ferdinand all but purred, right before the Edgar Allan’s fight song filled the studio.

*******

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *******  
> Eehhh... yeah, I ended it there. And it'll be at least two weeks before I get the next chapter out because I HAVE to get an owed fic out next week (but should have dragon!Andrew out for the weekend post).
> 
> This chapter was still Ravens heavy, I know. But now we're getting to the boys crossing paths, which will help a lot. It'll snap Andrew out of his fugue and all that.
> 
> Hmm, anything else?
> 
> Ah, I forgot. Not knocking the French literature degree, honest. Neil's thought on that is along the lines of having Jean, the Frenchiest of Frenchmen, take the degree (so a bit easier for him) and that obviously he's not going to follow up w/ some sort of Masters to help further the degree (he has to start paying back the Moriyamas as soon as he graduates, like Neil) so... marketable much?
> 
> And I couldn't resist Neil's nickname for Jean here, especially after the 'rosbifs' jab.... 
> 
> Ah well, off to San Japan!
> 
> As always, the comments and kudos are so greatly appreciated!  
> *******


	4. Broken Machine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this chapter borrows a bit from The Raven King (I think you can figure out which scene I'm talking about), so some credit to Nora Sakavic. But it's a little different. I hope it's as interesting as some of you have been hoping it'll be, judging from the comments.
> 
> Hmm, there's the usual Riko/Tetsuji warnings, and Andrew being Andrew, but that's it for triggers, I believe.  
> *******

*******

Much too early on August 25th, Neil found himself flying to Raleigh, North Carolina with Riko, Nakamura and a couple of the less obvious bodyguards while Jean remained behind at Evermore – supposedly because Kathy Ferdinand only wanted Riko and Neil on her show, but he knew that Jean was being used as ‘insurance’ so he didn’t get any ideas to try to run while away from Edgar Allan’s campus or to misbehave while on camera. Oh no, no dramatic ‘help me, I’m being held against my will’ pleas for Neil, no barricading himself in the bathroom at the airport or making a scene while going through security or anything like that, not when Jean and Marley and Meg could be used against him.

Neil’s mother would be beside herself in disgust over allowing himself to become ‘attached’ to others like this, in giving the Moriyamas such obvious weapons to use against him. But he’d clearly been his mother’s Achilles heel in the end so not even she’d been able to manage that whole ‘no weakness’ thing, and he didn’t think he could continue to go on if he didn’t have something to fight for while trapped in Evermore for so long.

After Riko ignoring him on the drive from campus, he was rather surprised to arrive at Yeager airport in Charleston, West Virginia and board the flight to Raleigh, tense from the prospect of being near Riko for so long as well as using his fake ID, and find that he had a seat in first class next to the bastard. Riko grinned at the obvious confused expression on his face. “You’re a Raven now, one of my Perfect Court. We don’t fly coach. Now sit down.”

“Yes, captain,” Neil said, mindful of keeping Riko in that seemingly good mood for once, of ensuring that Riko’s ire was focused on Kevin Day, where it belonged. Neil had scored five points in the game the evening before, had assisted Riko in scoring several more against Belmonte in what had been a decisive (crushing) victory against the team, one that had started the season for the Ravens with an impressive point lead over the rest of the Class I teams.

Most importantly, he’d helped to settle the questions about whether or not he deserved to be a Raven or wear the number ‘4’. While he still had a ways to go and a lot to learn, Tetsuji had been pleased enough with his playing last night to allow him and Jean to rest after the game, to spend some time in the soaking tubs before retiring in their room (they could have joined their teammates in partaking in professional massages… but neither of them could make themselves go through with allowing strangers to touch them).

Neil sat next to the window with the hood of his Ravens’ sweatshirt pulled over his head and watched Riko flirt with the one flight attendant, was quiet during the flight and mindful to not stray too far from Riko or Nakamura when they reached Raleigh-Durham International. A few people recognized them despite the early hour, and Neil forced himself to smile while Riko handled the brunt of the attention. Soon enough they were in the rented limo and headed to Kathy Ferdinand’s studio.

“We need to work on improving your presence,” Riko said as he poured himself about a shot’s worth of whiskey while Nakamura watched on in silence – the middle-aged man might report to Tetsuji, but Neil had the impression that he didn’t want to risk Riko’s temper, either. “You’re a rookie so it’s expected that you’re new to things and not making a show of yourself, but you _are_ on the Perfect Court, you’re a Raven. All eyes are on us.”

Ego much? Neil was quiet until he was certain insults wouldn’t pour forth when he opened his mouth. “I’m not used to drawing attention to myself.” He’d survived by not drawing attention to himself.

“That’ll change,” Riko insisted before he tossed back the drink. “Everything else about you already has.”

Neil had to remind himself about Jean back in the Nest as he contemplated opening the door and shoving a certain smug prick out into oncoming traffic.

Fortunately (for Riko), they reached the studio before Neil’s patience was tested too much, where they pulled up to a back door and were hurried inside to a room filled with couches and chairs set in front of mirrors where a woman wearing too much make-up on and too wide a smile gave Riko a big hug. “Riko! I can’t believe you’re really here! And you look amazing!” She laughed a little as she pulled away. “Not tired in the least after that incredible game last night! I was on the edge of my seat the entire time!”

Riko smiled, his expression somehow full of warmth and playfulness which made Neil want to blink a few times in case he was seeing things. “What can I say? The start of the season and the final few games always fill me with such a rush!” Then his smile flattened a little. “Has Kevin arrived yet?”

“No,” Ferdinand (at least, Neil assumed that’s who she was) quickly assured him. “They should be here soon,” she told him as her grin took on a bit of a hungry edge. “Oh, this is going to be such fun! And the ratings!” Then she glanced around Riko to look at Neil. “Hello! My, once people get over Riko and Kevin’s big reunion they are just going to eat you all up, honey.”

“Yes, we’re very confident that not only the fans but the sponsors will take to him,” Riko said, his demeanor more ‘normal’ all of a sudden. “Your show will be a great introduction for him.”

Ferdinand refocused her attention back on the bastard. “And I’m just so _thankful_ to you for this opportunity,” she enthused, which seemed to restore Riko’s good mood somewhat. “I mean, everyone wants you and Kevin back together for an interview and you came to _me_?” She batted her eyes several times while Neil fought the urge to gag. “That alone is going to make the ratings go through the roof! Add on the first look at the Ravens’ new striker? I don’t think I’ll be able to top this show for _months_!”

Riko grinned as he pulled Kathy aside to talk to her privately while Neil glanced around the room and took in the people standing off to the side (two women and a guy who were eyeing him and Riko with interest, another man talking into a headset while checking a tablet) while the bodyguards had stationed themselves near the only door (so no way for Neil to leave in other words). After a couple of minutes, the guy with the headset went over to interrupt Ferdinand and Riko.

“All right, it looks like Kevin’s finally here,” she told Riko. “I’m going to leave you with Paula and the others to get you and Neil ready, and you’ll come out when it’s time.” She gave Riko another hug and waved at Neil before she left with headset guy.

As if that was their cue, the two women (Paula was the one with dark blonde hair and glasses) and the man came over to have Riko and Neil change into clothes ‘suitable’ for their interviews (black, which wasn’t a surprise, expensive and form fitting, which Neil put on behind a screen after a level look from Riko), then fussed with their hair and even put on a bit of make-up. Neil suffered through it all while Riko chatted with the people and enjoyed some coffee, his smile fading when the three people left.

“You follow my lead,” he told Neil while the television in the corner of the room showed Ferdinand greeting the audience; Neil stilled when he recognized Wymack and Minyard in the front row, along with several other Palmetto State Foxes. “Watch your mouth while out there and behave.”

Neil didn’t need a reminder of who would pay the price for his insolence on national television, nor how the reason they were there was so Riko could tear into Day. “I understand.” All he needed was to look at the hatred and jealousy on the prick’s face as Riko stared at the screen – at Day as he walked onto the stage – to know that Riko’s main purpose that morning was to hurt the other striker as much as possible.

It wasn’t like Neil was going to object, not when he could feel all the new scars beneath the fine black clothes, when he’d dug his fingers into the arms of the chair to keep from flinching while the strange woman and man had fussed with his hair and dabbed stuff on his face, had kept _touching_ him. Let Day suffer a little after everything he’d done and not done.

They watched the first couple of minutes of Ferdinand talking to Day about his reasons for going to Palmetto State and the Foxes’ first game of the season before another assistant escorted Riko and Neil out of the room and toward the sound stage. They made sure to stay out of the line of sight, a sick feeling of anxiety growing in Neil’s stomach as Riko’s smile grew wider and sharper while Ferdinand continued to feed Day questions, almost as if he knew where things were going. Neil wouldn’t put it past the bastard that he’d worked out the whole thing with the woman so she could get her precious ratings and he his chance for revenge.

The Ravens’ change of district was brought up, which made Riko grab onto Neil’s arm. As Day explained that he hadn’t talked to anyone from the team in a while, Ferdinand beamed at the cameras. “Well then, have I got a treat for you!”

That seemed to be the cue which Riko had been waiting for, especially since the Ravens’ theme music began to play. Neil schooled his expression into something blank as Riko tugged him toward the stage then let go before they stepped out into the lights, paying attention to how Day’s face paled when he caught sight of his former partner. He stood off to the side of the desk while Riko kissed Ferdinand’s cheek and managed a slight smile (and not to flinch) when the woman leaned over to give him a hug in greeting, all the while aware of how stiff Day had become in Riko’s presence – that and the sudden motion out in the front row. It looked as if some of the Foxes were forcing Minyard to remain in his seat.

Neil spared them a glance while Riko spoke to Day at last, telling him how long it had been and reaching out to take his hand. While one of the Foxes sat on Minyard’s lap, Day grudgingly accepted Riko’s handshake, which allowed the bastard to pull him into a hug that was slowly returned.

Neil could _almost_ feel sorry for Day since it was clear that the last thing he wanted was to be anywhere near Riko… but thanks to Day, Neil and Jean were stuck with the psychopath on a full-time basis. They weren’t able to walk away after this interview.

Riko held Day at arm’s length and gave him a critical look up and down. “I think you've shrunk since I last saw you. Don't they feed you down here? I always heard southern food is heavy." Neil fought the urge to roll his eyes at the fake concern.

Day gave a nervous smile as if trying to rally. "I run it off on the court, I guess."

"What a miracle." A bit of malice crept into Riko’s voice, enough to put Neil on edge and remind him that this was a blood bath and not an interview.

Meanwhile, Ferdinand seemed to try to reinsert herself back into things. "It truly is a miracle. Take a good look, everyone.” She gestured at the two strikers. “Your golden pair is back, but for the first time ever, they're rivals. Riko, Kevin, we thank you from the bottoms of our hearts for tolerating our incessant fanaticism." She stepped forward and motioned for everyone to sit down, with Riko taking advantage of the situation to sit on the couch where Day had been before they’d ‘crashed’ the interview, and Neil could see Day pause and attempt to figure out if he could sit elsewhere before giving in and joining Riko there. Meanwhile, Neil was grateful to be able to be by himself on the other couch as if the distance would save him from the impending disaster.

Ferdinand smiled at them for a moment before she resumed the show. "From what I've just heard from Kevin, it sounds like neither of you have spoken in a while. Is that right?"

"It is," Riko said as he finally looked away from Day, his ‘pleasant’ mask firmly in place. "You sound surprised."

"Well, yes," Ferdinand admitted. "I didn't think it possible for you two to grow apart."

One would be amazed at what breaking someone’s hand could do to a relationship, but Neil remained quiet, especially since he didn’t know the full details of the incident. Especially since he didn’t want Jean’s bones to be broken next.

"A year ago it would have been impossible," Riko explained, "but you have to understand how emotionally crushing December was.” Neil thanked all those years on the run with his mother that he was able to keep his face blank at that ‘crushing’ comment. “The injury was Kevin's to bear, but we all suffered for it. Some of us couldn't handle the reality of what that accident meant, myself included. Kevin and I grew up at Evermore. We built our lives around that team and our pair work. I couldn't believe we'd lost it. I couldn't accept that our dreams had collapsed. Neither could he, so we withdrew from each other." The bastard actually managed to sound upset about things, while Neil wondered if Day was going to be sick on national television.

"But for nine months?" Ferdinand asked in a breathy voice as she glanced at Day while Neil toyed with the cuffs of his black shirt to give himself something to do. Why had Riko brought him along if he was going to talk about Day all the time?

“Perhaps it was inevitable. We made Exy the center of our lives, Kathy,” Day said in a quiet voice, the big smiles from before Riko’s appearance long gone. “We showed you our best, but we didn't show you what it cost us. Juggling three teams, university classes, and public pressure was wearing us down, but we refused to admit it. We didn't want to believe we had limits."

Of course Ferdinand ate up the whole thing, as did much of the audience; from what Neil could see, the Foxes were grim-faced and still holding back Minyard much like keeping hold of the leash attached to a mad dog. "I can't even imagine that stress and pressure. I suppose it had to put a strain on your friendship."

"We are human sometimes," Riko said, "and therefore we can't help but have our differences, hmm, Kevin?" The too-sweet, sliver of malice was back in his voice at the end there, but Neil was willing to bet only someone who was familiar with the prick could pick up on it.

"No family is perfect," Day agreed in a quiet, broken manner, while Neil once again fought not to roll his eyes or to scoff. Oh no, no family was perfect indeed, and the Moriyamas were far from it. His fingers itched to feel out the scars hidden beneath his shirt once again; the Wesninskis had just a _few_ flaws themselves.

Ferdinand next brought up the whole skiing incident, the lie to cover whatever had really happened last December (maybe one day Jean would tell Neil the truth), and eventually alluded to how far Day had come in the past year.

Riko wasn’t pleased to hear that, judging from the slight narrowing of his eyes, the flex of fingers which caused harm so naturally. “I'm not sure it is," he said while Day shifted on the couch beside him, "but I'm saying that as his brother, as his best friend. You saw him last night, Kathy. I'm worried his wishful thinking and obsession will lead him to injure himself again. Can he recover a second time, emotionally or mentally?"

The words, as intended, struck Day deep as his face became flushed enough to blur the edges of the ‘2’ tattoo while he shook his head in objection. He moved his lips a couple of times before any words came out. “I… I’m doing everything I can to move forward. To… I have people at Palmetto to help me, have- there are friends who-“

Neil couldn’t remain quiet any longer after hearing _Day_ go on about having people to _help_ _him_. “You had _friends_ at Edgar Allan, and good ones at that,” he reminded the bastard, the coward who had run away and left Jean behind to deal with everything alone. “Or did you forget that when you left them behind?”

Everyone on the stage turned to look at him – Day in shock, Riko with a thoughtful frown and Ferdinand with a fake smile. "Ah, forgive my bad manners," she said to Neil with too much cheer. "I didn't forget you over there, I just got distracted. Neil Josten, everyone, the Ravens’ newest recruit and striker, their number ‘4’ and the rookie everyone’s been talking about after yesterday! Kevin, Neil, Neil, Kevin. Riko’s past and present, or should I say past and future? Especially after seeing you in action during that incredible game! It’s no wonder that you’re the third most searched striker in the Class I division after your debut last night!" She beamed at Riko. “That was quite the achievement you and your uncle pulled off, both recruiting him and keeping it quiet for so long!”

Riko’s frown gave way to a slight, pleased smile at the woman’s words. “Yes, our dear Neil, he is something, isn’t he?” He nodded to Kevin as the expression took on an edge just skirting around cruel. “We’ve had our eye on him for a while now, you know, and wanted to focus on his playing after that distasteful debacle back in April,” he alluded to the whole Foxes recruitment attempt and forum leak. “So far he’s more than living up to his promise. Such a _loyal_ find he’s proving to be.”

Day looked over at Neil while Riko spoke, and the way he flinched when Neil stared back let Neil know that the bastard _knew_ him, had remembered him as Nathaniel Wesninski. That Day knew what it meant for him to be sitting there with a ‘4’ on his cheek. “Yes, he’s a good player.”

“Good enough for you to want him for your Foxes, but that didn’t happen,” Riko taunted. “He’s too good for your Foxes, which is what we’re going to prove to you.” His demeanor became serious as he turned toward Ferdinand and interrupted her before she could speak, probably to ask questions about Neil. “Kevin plays a role in our decision in switching districts, but it’s a small one,” he explained. “It was not a decision made lightly on our part and we've taken an unfair bit of criticism for it. The north says we are transferring to keep our ranking secure, as if they ever had a chance of unseating us, and the south cries unfair at having to contend with us. We are the nation's best team, after all, and the southeastern district is… Well, it's subpar, to be polite. To be perfectly honest, its teams are dreadful. We hope our transfer changes that. We're here to inspire the south, to make it better."

"You want to do for the south what Kevin is doing for the Foxes," Ferdinand exclaimed, buying into Riko’s fabrication with ridiculous ease.

"Yes, but it will be much easier if Kevin plays along," Riko said, and Neil knew that they were getting to why Riko had insisted to coming down here that morning.

"How so?"

"Kevin cannot and will not play for us again. He knows this; this is why he didn’t return to us this spring. Our affection for him doesn't forgive his new inadequacies on the court, and he respects the Ravens too much to drag us down. That doesn't mean Evermore isn't his home. His work with the Foxes this spring proved we can find a place for him on our staff. We'd like him to return to us as one of our coaches."

“Sounds like a difficult choice, Kevin," Ferdinand said while minute trembling wracked Day’s body. "I have to admit both ideas fascinate me. As much as I love watching the Foxes improve, it breaks my heart to see you away from Edgar Allan."

While Neil enjoyed seeing Day suffer at being put on the spot like that, he didn’t want the bastard back at Edgar Allan only because it was what _Riko_ wanted. Still, it wasn’t as if he could do much about it right then, and as he thought that, a noise from the audience – one of the Foxes making a faint booing sound – distracted Day enough for him to shake his head. “I… will continue to play with the Foxes,” Day insisted in a quiet voice. “They took me in, and now I’ll push them forward.

“Palmetto is a waste of your talents,” Riko insisted while he gave the Foxes a narrowed look in displeasure.

“Why don’t we-“

Neil cut off Ferdinand before she could regain control of the interview (before she could take the heat off of Day). “Palmetto wasn’t there for you all these years, hasn’t stood by you when you were nothing,” he shot at Day.

That accusation made Day flush once more. “You don’t know what you’re-“

“Oh, I think I do. Fraternité,” Neil reminded the bastard while a slow grin spread across Riko’s face and Ferdinand watched on with confusion. “I know what’s important after only these last couple of months, and it’s my _partner_ , it’s my team. It’s what’s in _Evermore,_ it’s who stands at my back and wears my colors.” It was Jean and Marley and Meg, were McPherson and Anders and Lau, all the other Ravens who were devoted to Exy and doing their best to get through Evermore with some part of their souls intact.

He didn’t blame Day for running, just for running without a care for Jean, for the damage he was leaving behind in his wake. For sitting on that couch and still being too weak to face down Riko, for only being concerned about his own neck when Jean had bled so damn much because of him.

Day tried to rally and glare at Neil. “I know what’s important.”

“Do you? Because you don’t seem to think much of at least one of your players, and you don’t sound certain about your new team keeping you around, from the little I heard of the interview earlier. The Ravens were always certain about you, number ‘ _2_ ’.” Neil tapped the tattoo on his cheek, an action which made Day flinch. “You had Riko at your side,” okay, not the strongest argument, but Neil could lie with the best of them and spit out the words if they kept Jean safe, “you had people at your back who grew up with you, the best players in the division looking up to you. Yet you leave it all behind? You turn your back on all those people as if they don’t matter? To me, that makes you-“

“Neil,” Riko said in a ‘friendly’ matter, but he took it as the warning that it was; all that mattered was that Day’s face was stricken once more.

Meanwhile, Ferdinand appeared to be doing her best to hold back on her glee. “He’s very passionate, isn’t he?”

“It’s refreshing to see such devotion,” Riko agreed as he gave Day a pointed look. “It reminds me of a young Kevin.” Day flinched once again. “As Neil so fervently brought up, Kevin has a lot waiting for him back at Edgar Allan. Sadly, he is not what he once was but we will always have a spot for him, will welcome him on our coaching staff.” He turned a warm smile on a bleak-looking Day. “You can always come home.”

Day remained quiet for several seconds before he spoke, quiet and hesitant once more. “I… I would like to remain at Palmetto State for as long as the Foxes will have me.”

The Foxes in the audience cheered at that, soon followed by the rest of the audience, and after a couple of seconds Ferdinand spoke about the upcoming Exy season and choices before she pointed at the cameras right before the lights at the end of the stage dimmed. Neil could tell that Riko wasn’t pleased by Day’s continuing defiance (pitiful as it was) and could only hope that the resulting temper tantrum was limited to the ex-Raven.

He did his best to judge Riko’s mood while Ferdinand shook each of their hands in turn and babbled something about refreshments and keeping the clothes they wore, and took in how Day seemed captivated by Riko’s dark stare until someone called out his name from the audience. That made the bastard jerk about as if it jolted out of a reverie and finally head off stage, but Riko was quick to give chase.

Of course things couldn’t end so easily, could they? Neil followed along, certain he’d get into trouble if he left Riko’s side for too long, and wasn’t surprised to see the prick catch up to Day once out of sight of the audience. Riko spun Day around and pushed him up against a wall while speaking in harsh Japanese, his tone furious and eyes bright with a familiar madness. Neil caught a couple of words, enough to know that he was going after Day for leaving Evermore, and turned his back on the two ex-partners to keep watch since Riko was being stupid or over-confident enough (both, most likely) to pick a fight out in the open.

It didn’t take long for Minyard to come looking for Day; Neil took it as a minor blessing that there weren’t any other Foxes tagging along. Still, he knew from painful experience that the goalie packed quite a punch (more like a strong swing), that his short frame came along with a good bit of muscle – and oh yeah, he was a psychotic bastard as well. He lacked the damn smile he’d worn in Millport, his face set in a blank expression as he stalked straight toward Riko.

As much as Neil would dearly love to set the two psychos on each other, he couldn’t let that happen so he stepped into the asshole’s path.

“Out of my way, rabbit,” Minyard called out. “I need to talk to Riko.”

“Not happening,” Neil told him with a smile even as he braced himself. “So fuck off.”

Something flickered over Minyard’s face at that, and Neil stood his ground knowing what would happen next, despite the fist swinging at his face; Minyard certainly knew how to throw a punch, but Neil knew how to take them after growing up in Baltimore, after years on the run with his mother and the last couple of months in Evermore. He wavered but he didn’t go down, just continued to smile while blood filled his mouth from the split lips and bitten inner cheek.

“You’re more impressive with my racquet in your hands,” he taunted the asshole while he refused to move aside, the sounds of Day’s high-pitched voice speaking rushed Japanese coming from behind him. “But then again, most bullies need a prop.”

Minyard grabbed the front of Neil’s black dress shirt and jerked him forward. “Last chance to run away, rabbit.”

Neil spat in asshole’s face; he had to admit it felt so damn good after everything that had happened, all because of Minyard deciding to fuck up his life with that forum post.

It earned him another punch, that time to the upper abdomen which left him gasping for air, and then he felt the press of something cool against his neck. “You move or you bleed,” Minyard told him in a deep voice devoid of all emotion, his hazel eyes just as flat while blood-tinged spittle ran down his right cheek.

First the asshole clotheslined Neil with his own racquet, then he fucked up his life with the damn forum post, and now he thought to _threaten_ him? Laughter bubbled up in Neil’s throat as he stared into those emotionless eyes. “Go ahead,” Neil told the asshole as he tilted his neck into the blade of the knife. “You think _this_ scares me? A drugged-up amateur psycho like you _frightens_ me?” He laughed some more as blood trickled down his neck and his chin. “You can’t fuck up my life anymore if I’m dead so go ahead.” He tilted his neck a little more as the smile he’d learned from his father tugged at his split lips.

All Minyard did was stare at him, a flicker of emotion in those almost golden eyes of his, and before Neil could do something (spit in his face again, call him a bastard), there was the sound of someone approaching. “Hey, you shouldn’t be back here. Did you get lost?”

Before the person could come any closer, Minyard jerked away from Neil, the knife disappearing as he moved, and Riko murmured something to Day as well. Then Riko grabbed Neil by the left arm as he shoved past Minyard and didn’t stop until they returned to the room where they’d changed their clothes earlier.

“Clean your face,” Riko told him once the door was closed. “Is the car ready?” That was directed to Nakamura.

“Yes,” the assistant coach assured him, and as soon as Neil grabbed some things to help wipe at the blood on his face and neck, they were out the door; he just had time to snatch up his hoodie to pull over the black shirt as well so he could hide his face.

Once in the car, Riko gave him an assessing look. “You weren’t quiet, but you put on a good show and kept Kevin’s rabid dog at bay. It seems you’re your father’s child after all.”

Neil refused to react to those words. "It was a risk going on the show, letting that woman bring up the district change and everything," he mentioned instead in an effort to deflect the topic from himself.

As expected, Riko brushed aside the criticism. "People are always looking to tear us down since we're the best. It's to be expected and you'll soon learn to ignore it." He reached out to grab Neil's chin and gave it a too-tight squeeze. "Now they'll think of how Kevin abandoned us, of how he ran away. Speaking from experience?"

"I had something to run from," Neil managed to grit out.

"Very true. Now you have Jean and those freshmen waiting for you back at the Nest, no?" Riko's smile turned cruel as his calloused fingers bit into Neil's jawbone. "So many reasons to bring you to heel."

So many reasons for Neil not to slam his fist into the bastard's face right then, to swallow down the insults on the tip of his tongue, the hatred curdling in the back of his throat. " _Yes, captain_ ," he managed to say in a more or less civil manner.

"You did well last night and today, be sure to continue," Riko said as he let Neil go with a slight push. "It would be a shame if something were to happen to Jean, if the others were allowed to get their hands on those girls."

Neil worried at his torn bottom lip to keep himself calm, to use the pain to keep his temper under control. " _Yes, captain_."

Riko waved that aside as if bored and pulled out his phone to call someone - Tetsuji, from the sound of it - and spoke in Japanese.

Wishing he really could be dismissed so easily, Neil grabbed some of the tissues and the bottle of water he'd brought from the studio and set about cleaning himself up before they reached the airport.

He could only hope that he’d helped to fuck up Day enough that the former Raven wasn’t having an easy time pulling himself together right then.

*******

Andrew was smoking a cigarette on the roof when Renee tracked him down, a first aid kit in her left hand. "I heard about the window," she said as she approached him with due caution, her gaze cast upon his right hand, which he'd barely taken the time to rinse off and wrap a hand towel around before leaving the suite. "May I?"

He considered that for a couple of seconds then shrugged as he turned around to face her, his back to the campus. "Who tattled? Nicky?"

"Yes." She knelt down on the rough surface of the roof’s ‘floor’ and frowned as she carefully peeled away the blood-soaked towel to reveal the numerous cuts on his fingers, knuckles and the back of his hand. "He's worried about you - that and he asked Matt to repair the window before Coach finds out."

"Poor Nicky, the eternal mother hen," Andrew drawled, his voice thick with sarcasm.

Renee was quiet as she twisted Andrew's hand about as if checking the deepness of the wounds, her touch light and eyes hooded. "It wasn't your fault, you know. There's no way you could have known about Riko showing up this morning."

Andrew clenched his hands at mention of the prick, pain shooting up his right arm as he recalled (perfectly, of course) the sight of Riko strolling onto the stage with that oh-so amused grin, of the blood draining from Kevin's face when he realized what was happening, of the hands holding Andrew down to keep him from pulling his knives to end everything before it started.

Of sitting there while Riko and then Josten tore into Kevin with barbed words and fake smiles, unable to do anything to stop it. "Never hold me back like that again," he told Renee, not for the first time.

"You know why we did it," she repeated. "But I'm sorry."

"I don't want your useless words, I want to know it won't happen again."

She shook her head as she opened the small plastic box. "I can't do nothing and let you make a mistake. Going after Riko Moriyama in front of all those people would have been a mistake."

"Debatable," Andrew argued, and barely twitched when she sprayed an antibiotic solution over the cuts. "He got what he wanted, got an open shot at Kevin and made him look bad."

Renee was quiet while she finished cleaning his hand. "Yes, I hate to admit it but he did a good job of that. Him and Neil Josten."

"The little rabbit who's perhaps not so much of a rabbit after all." Andrew stared at the mixture of blood and antibiotic solution dripping onto the roof from the tips of his fingers as he thought about what had happened when he went to fetch Kevin, at Josten's unexpected behavior. Huh, a rabbit with sharp teeth and claws, at the very least.

In the process of taping the worst of the cuts on his hand, Renee paused to give him a concerned look. "Andrew? Is everything all right?"

"What would you do if I held a knife to your throat?"

"Okay." She arched an eyebrow as she reached for the gauze to wrap his hand. "Knock it aside at the very least."

Most likely knock it aside while following up with a strike of her own, knowing the ‘good’ little Christian girl trying so hard to pretend that she'd never been anything else. "Not Josten."

"Ah." Renee waited a couple of seconds before she continued as if thinking about what he'd said. "Putting aside why you'd done such a thing to him, what did he do?"

'Why' indeed. "He got between me and Riko, but yes, let's not dwell on that." Andrew paused to take a deep drag on his cigarette, held the smoke in his lungs for a moment then blew it out in Renee’s direction. "He flat out taunted me to go ahead with it." When Renee looked up from his hand to meet his eyes, something dark flaring in her own as her lips pressed together, he nodded. "It wasn't a bluff. He wasn't afraid at all, either of me or what I'd do to him." His gaze grew unfocused for a moment as he remembered that cruel smile directed at him, the hatred gleaming in those blue eyes even more vivid in real life. They were so much better than the ugly brown contacts, and whenever the hatred hadn’t burned in them had possessed a blankness that Andrew had recognized all too well.

He recognized the hatred, too.

"That does sound unusual." Things were quiet until Renee finished with his hand. "It's clear that Riko frightens Kevin and for good reason." There was a small but sardonic smile on her lips as she nodded to Andrew's bandaged hand. "Perhaps Neil has something which frightens him more?"

Perhaps, but usually more immediate tangible threats won out, in Andrew's experience, at least at a moment like that. So what was so bad in Josten's life that would make him laugh in the face of eminent death? To make him literally spit it in the face and egg it on?

How had Andrew fucked up his life that bad?

Everything about the kid didn't add up, was another piece in a bigger and more complex puzzle, and Andrew didn't like that at all. He didn't like how he seemed unable to move beyond Josten, how the kid kept reappearing in his life and was becoming something like an obsession not only with Kevin but with him, too.

How the kid only kept becoming more and more interesting, especially after refusing to back down, after taking a hit and then baring his teeth at Andrew like some ridiculous runt of the litter daring to take on a real predator.

Andrew had suspected that the Neil Josten he'd seen back in Millport hadn't been authentic, that there'd been something off about the kid... but now he had to wonder if the almost deranged, mouthy little shit in Raleigh was the real Josten. If not, who was? How many layers did he have to peel away to get to the real one? Why was he even interested?

"I must be slipping if something as wretched as Riko can scare a rabbit like Josten more than me," Andrew settled on as he raised his cigarette to his lips.

"I don't know...that's not the impression I got from Neil," Renee said as she put everything back in the first aid kit. At Andrew's arched eyebrow, she shook her head. "That he's a 'rabbit' - he seemed too focused and solid to me, especially if he stood up to you."

"There's the team's darling, always willing to think the best of everyone," Andrew intoned in a bored manner as he flicked the butt of his cigarette over the edge of the roof.

"I have you to balance me out, always willing to think the worst of everyone," she told him with a cheerful smile while he gave her a flat look. "You've been set against him from the start, you know."

"And look at what's happened, shall we?" He stood to his feet, which made Renee rise up as well, her pink skirt swishing around her legs. "He disappears from sight only to reappear as a Raven at the start of the season, all full of spit and vinegar and eager to tear Kevin apart. While I can sort of understand the latter as our dear Day can be an annoying fellow, it's a rather dramatic change." Especially for someone who supposedly had spent so long on the run, who should be used to keeping his head down to avoid drawing attention to himself.

Had Kevin been wrong about that? Had Josten - Wesninski - been back in the Moriyamas' hands for longer than suspected?

Again with all the questions and puzzle pieces that wouldn't fit together. Andrew had enough that they should be forming some sort of picture, some sort of outline of the rookie striker, but it was as if he was working with too wet clay or something – just when he thought he’d gotten a decent shape going, a feel for things and all, it collapsed on him and he had to start all over again.

He was about to replay the events of that one ‘therapeutic’ art class and start flinging the damn clay around any second now, start breaking pots in the need to ‘vent’.

“Not everything is one great big conspiracy,” Renee chided as she headed for the door. “Not everyone is out to get you and Kevin.”

Which was why Kevin was currently passed out drunk on the couch a couple of floors downstairs after mumbling about Moreau and Riko and shit like that for about half an hour before the vodka had kicked in. Andrew scoffed at the do-gooder’s back while the door closed shut and fumbled for his pack of cigarettes with his bandaged hand as he turned around to look out over the campus, his legs dangling in the air.

There was the familiar wrench of fear inside of him, followed by the heady rush of nicotine, a dual sense of _feeling_ , a tightening in his chest and a buzz in his head which for once wasn’t the damn meds, which he savored for a couple of seconds. Then it was overtaken by the nagging throb of _JostenJostenJosten_ in his brain, a flash of images of that damn face staring at him in surprise, in careful blankness, in outright hatred and mocking cruelty.

He thought the worst part of it all was that Josten looked so damn attractive no matter what, especially when dressed in form-fitting black clothes and that red hair mostly combed back from his face. When there was a bit of a British accent in his voice, of all things.

Andrew took a deep pull on the cigarette before he forced himself up once more so he could see how much effort it would take to sober Kevin up so they could leave for Columbia, deciding it was a night for Eden’s Twilight and some time with Roland.

*******

Neil backed up as Avery Tollis approached when he left the break room a few steps behind Jean; he didn't see Susan Ivanova, her partner, so assumed that the striker was intent upon him for some reason.

"Getting something to help you study?" Avery asked as she nodded to the mug of tea in his hand, a bright smile on her face which he didn't trust.

He nodded at Jean to keep going. "Yes." Neil was aware of the other Ravens around him, of how many steps back it would take for him to retreat into the break room and how easy it would be for him to fling the hot water into the other striker's face - he wasn't using the knife, right? Surely DiMaccio wouldn't care about that? "I don't have much time so what do you want?"

Tollis’ smile faded into something less pleasant at that. "Direct as always, Josten." She frowned at McPherson and Lau, who were hovering nearby, until the two dealers got the hint and walked away. "Look, there's enough competition going on for the striker line already since Riko had to go out and bring you in from nowhere - this was supposed to be our chance now that Kevin's is gone." Despite her snappish tone, her light brown eyes glanced around when she mentioned Day's name as if making certain that their wonderful captain hadn't overheard. "So what makes you think it's acceptable to give a low-ranked freshman a shot?"

Well, at least she was coming after him instead of Marley - for now. "Because you were a low-ranked freshman once," he said while looking beyond her in a clear sign that she was wasting his time, despite the fact that she had a couple of inches on him.

Tollis didn't seem to appreciate that, but then again, he had a feeling that the junior wasn't used to being ignored or overlooked. "I worked my ass off to get where I am, and I'm not going to let some rookie bitch snatch it from me because she bats her eyes at you or-"

He went with dumping the tea on her jacket, just in case, but it still made her shout in surprise, which gave him time to shove her into the wall while pinning her by the shoulders. "First off, like you've got a choice," he told her with his father's smile. "Second, neither of us are interested in that - I think it's rather telling that _you_ think that we'd stoop that low."

She scoffed as she tried to push away, but while Neil may be shorter, he'd put an awful lot of time working with a heavy racquet per Tetsuji's demands, spent an awful lot of time on drills and everything else their 'Master' had told him to do. "Don't tell me you're any different than the rest of these guys. Nothing's for free here, you pay for it one way or another," she told him, everything about her - her expression, her voice, her gaze – composed of pure bitterness.

"There's many different levels of hell," he informed her as he shoved himself away. "Keep away from Marley and Meg."

"You actually think you're going to keep them safe? Just because you're part of Riko's Perfect Court?" Tollis gave a contemptuous laugh to show what she thought about that.

"No, I'm just going to keep them from sinking too deep," Neil told her as he walked away. "Touch them and I'll drag you down with me - you and anyone else." He made sure to meet the eyes of the few Ravens - Adams, Lincoln and Dixon - who had remained in the hall during the little 'chat'.

Going around the corner, he found a blank-faced Jean waiting for him along with a visibly upset Ivanova; Neil usually got along with the starting goalkeeper who was teaching him Russian whenever they sat together on the bench. She gave him an apologetic smile as she stepped away from his partner. "I'm... I'm sorry," she said in a rush. "She... well, it wasn't right, but she's worried about her position. No one stood up for her, you know."

"Yes," Neil agreed, and for a moment he could understand what the goalie was trying to say - Tollis had struggled for her number, to be considered one of the better strikers on the team. But now she was willing to tear down a rookie, and another young woman, just for the sake of that number. All because of what Tetsuji and Riko had taught her, all for the sake of her pride when she already was good enough to be recruited on a pro team.

He wasn't going to let Marley and Meg be destroyed like that when it was too late for him and Jean.

"But I'm still not going to let her do that to Patel and Curtis."

Ivanova's shoulders slumped a little. "I know, and I can't blame you. I just wish there'd been someone like you when we got recruited." Her smile became wistful and more than a little sad as she walked away.

Neil and Jean stood there for a couple of seconds before Jean clicked his tongue. " _I told you that you couldn't save them all_."

" _Yes, you did_ ," Neil sighed as he motioned toward their room. " _Do you think she's going to be worse after this_?"

" _Tollis? I don't see that one learning anytime soon_."

"Wonderful." On top of it all, he'd wasted a perfectly good cup of tea on the woman, too. "Why can't people bother me with this stuff when I've got a plateful of kale or something?" That he wouldn't mind dumping on their lap or smashing into their face.

Jean hummed a little while making a show of sipping his coffee, the bastard. "God doesn't love devils, you know. Or the British, since you're little better than heathens."

Neil gave him a rude gesture for that, which just prompted a tiny, pleased smile from the smug French bastard.

They managed to spend a little time studying before afternoon practice, which turned out to be a painful reminder of what everyone was striving for and to avoid; Ross still hadn’t made any progress with the drills and Adam, a sophomore, was falling behind at practice as well. The Ravens had the game with the Wilkes-Barre Hornets the next day, an away game, and Tetsuji obviously didn’t want any cracks in their uniform façade, didn’t want anything to ruin the impetus they had going for them between their win against Belmonte last Friday and the surge of interest from Ferdinand’s interview.

Which meant that they couldn’t display any weakness, couldn’t be _allowed_ any weakness. Neil found himself falling back into that mental space inside that he hadn’t used in years – not since he’d been a child forced to watch his father work on carving people up while they were still alive.

Not since that day up in the East Tower, right before his mother had grabbed him and run.

Only this time he was standing with a stiff Jean on his right while the fingers of his left hand dug into Marley’s right wrist to keep her quiet, as she must have done something similar to Meg to make the girl stifle her sobs as Tetsuji brought his cane down again and again on first Ross’ and then Adam’s backs before ordering the young men to run laps around the outer court despite the blood soaking into their jerseys. Then the old bastard looked out over the rest of them as if daring them to object, to complain, before he gave out the orders for their practice in that emotionless voice of his, his face blank but eyes sharp as always.

Mills didn’t once glance in the direction of his partner as he went off with Loiseau to work on the drills, and there was a grim sort of determination on Meg’s freckled face as she went to practice as well. Marley appeared a bit disturbed, but Neil knew that she wouldn’t let the incident hold her back for long.

Riko was even more of a demanding prick than usual, barking out orders as if he was his uncle and slamming into anyone who got between him and the ball, not only Neil. For a moment Neil wondered if Ichirou was up in the East Tower before he told himself that he had more important things to worry about, such as surviving a sadistic, spoiled brat out on the court, and did his best to balance feeding Riko’s overgrown ego with scoring enough points so it didn’t look as if he was falling behind, either.

Everyone was drained both physically and mentally when practice was over, to the point that all Neil could think about was standing beneath the hot water until the aches in his shoulders and arms went away. He didn’t even care about eating though he knew he needed to, knew Jean would drag him away from the falling water and force him to dress, to go to the dining hall and eat everything (some of the damn kale or spinach or whatever vegetable the dieticians decided to inflict upon that night, at least a bite or two before switching it out with something else).

So he tensed up when Riko stalked into the locker room with _that_ look on his face, his eyes fever-bright with a madness that anyone with sense should have seen years ago and used as an excuse to put the sadistic bastard down like they did with rabid animals. Neil tensed and prepared himself for the pain to follow, for the hands to grab and hit and hold him down… only to watch on in confusion when Riko went past him.

“ _Come on_ ,” Jean urged in a quiet, strained voice as he all but hauled Neil away to the showers.

“But-“

“ _Not now_.” There was a wildness to Jean’s pale eyes, a panic which changed to guilt when Neil allowed his partner to pull him into the humid room. A guilt which was echoed in several other Ravens – Hebig, Tyler, Lincoln, Anders and even Dixon.

Neil thought about the two battered figures doing laps and finished pulling off his sweat-soaked uniform. “ _But they’re not… they’re not **us**_.”

“ _It doesn’t matter when it gets to this point_ ,” Jean explained, his hands trembling as he pushed down his boxer-briefs. “ _There are some limits… but in the end, they endanger the team so Riko will teach them to do better_.”

As Tollis had said, everyone paid one way or another – a Raven paid to be the best, and a Raven paid if they failed to excel. “ _And if they don’t learn to be better?_ ” Neil asked once they were standing beneath the shower heads.

Jean was quiet for almost a minute as he lathered up, his expression one of intent concentration of his actions as if he refused to think about the words. “ _They are Ravens or they are nothing_ ,” was all he said at last.

 That was rather ominous, wasn’t it? And it carried a lot of implications for what Day had done, running from Evermore, from the _Nest_ , leaving behind the team he’d grown up into, when no one else had that option.

What the hell made Day so damn special? Why did _he_ get to leave the nightmare behind? Just because of his dead mother and the pet psycho at his side?

Neil’s mother was dead, too, and he didn’t need any juvie reject to protect him.

He hurried to stick his head beneath the water to cover the sound of the cries from the locker room. Everyone took a long time washing up that evening.

Marley and Meg were just as subdued as everyone else at dinner when Jean and Neil met up with them. “So, Sophie told me that Jon will be paired with Ren now, and Ed with Lee,” Marley told them as she poked at her baked fish; despite the dinner having a bit of flavor to it for once, she didn’t appear that happy.

“Ren and Lee are sophomores and low enough in the ranks that it’s common, them being paired with freshmen.” Jean pointed to the steamed kale on Neil’s plate and made a show of brandishing his pear while holding up three fingers, meaning how many bites he wanted Neil to suffer through before handing it over, the sadist. “If you manage to emulate your precious goddess Muldani well enough, you’ll be paired with at least a sophomore soon, perhaps even a junior, and leave poor Meg to the dregs.”

“I’m sure I’ll survive somehow,” Meg remarked with a slight smile as she watched Neil choke down a bite of the hideous green mush. “Though that brings me to what I’ve been meaning to ask you for a couple of days now.” She deliberately reached over to eat a bite of the kale despite the disapproving look it earned her from Jean. “I want in on the extra practices,” she said as she gave Neil her pear.

“ _I told you this was a terrible mistake_ ,” Jean complained as he covered his eyes with his left hand as if trying to block out the world.

“ _You think me breathing is a terrible mistake_ ,” Neil reminded his partner as he snatched up the offered pear. “ _This is us rushing headlong into disaster, there’s a difference_.”

“ _Why is there an ‘ **us** ’ in that absurd statement and I am not comforted in the least, you devil_.” Jean frowned at a smiling Meg as she finished the damn kale. “Why are you so amused?”

“You two are just so cute when you go off on your little tangents like that.”

Marley nearly choked on her rice while Neil went still as he waited for Jean’s reaction, which was about three seconds in coming – he knew it was bad when his partner actually _smiled_. “Yes, you’ll join us for the extra practice.”

“Oh boy,” Marley muttered as she poked at her fish again. “Someone didn’t get the memo about Frenchmen, did they?”

“Eh?” Meg looked at her partner in confusion, but all Marley did was shake her head. As for Neil, he kept his precious pear out of Jean’s reach and focused on finishing his meal, content with the fact that it should fall on Meg and Marley to clean the court at the end of the night.

Evening practice was just as bad as the afternoon one, despite the fact that Adams and Ross weren’t around. Probably because they weren’t around. Neil didn’t know what Riko had done to the two young men, couldn’t imagine what would make them sit out a practice after all the times _he’d_ shown up in bad shape, and it seemed that everyone was determined to put them out of mind and focus on preparing for the game the next day. Marley once again received a curt approval from Tetsuji, which made Tollis glower at her, and Meg moved on to the next drill.

It wasn’t a long night-time practice because of the game next day, but Jean was in all of his scathing glory with Meg and Marley, pointing out each and every one of their flaws, especially Meg’s. Marley was used to it by then, was used to how Jean could block her attempts at the goal with ease, while Neil watched how Meg did her best not to give in to frustration – Jean could be mocking and harsh but he never crossed the line to cruel. Well, he never crossed the line to too cruel, as there was a reason for the biting criticism and putdowns. The girls would hear them and worse from Riko and Tetsuji and several other Ravens, so best that Jean tell them what they needed to know while it was just the four of them. Hell, he threw a couple Neil’s way as well, when Neil got a bit sloppy due to exhaustion and nerves because of the next day.

“I’ve had enough,” Jean declared after about an hour and a half. “I’m torn between utter disgust and rupturing an internal organ from holding back the laughter over your miserable antics. It’s time to wash the stink of failure from my skin and go to sleep in the hope that unconsciousness wipes away the memories of your atrocious skills.”

Meg gaped at him for a few seconds before she nodded at Marley. “Okay, you won that bet.”

“Told you he’d make you want to throttle him from the putdowns.”

Jean motioned around the court while Neil envisioned _Meg_ of all people throttling someone. “Since you seem to have enough energy left for violence, have fun cleaning the court before bed.”

“Like I didn’t see that coming,” Marley complained with a good bit of sourness as she set her helmet aside. “Oh am I going to have fun when I get that higher rank.”

“You’re still awake, ma puce, stop dreaming such nonsense,” Jean chided her as he waved his right hand at Neil in a clear sign that it fell on _him_ to gather up the equipment.

Neil would gladly join in on the throttling French bastards at the moment. Also, he wondered how long it would take for Marley to figure out her new nickname.

Once the equipment was stowed away and they were done showering, he confronted his partner. " _Admit it, you get some sort of satisfaction out of all of this_."

A slight sneer came over Jean's elegant features as they returned their room. " _If I'm going to be forced to waste time which could be better spent resting or studying on them, I will ensure that they won't be an embarrassment_."

" _And if you just so happen to be able to boss them around a little and remind everyone of how perfect you are, so much the better_?"

Jean was quiet for a moment before he reached over to give Neil's hair a tentative tousle. " _Mark this day down, devil. You have just acknowledged my superiority over a wretched British failure such as yourself_."

Neil rolled his eyes at that. " _Yes, the exhaustion has clearly caught up with me_." Still, he smiled when Jean took to humming 'La Marseilles' all the way back to their room.

The next day they were excused from their classes - Edgar Allan was rather flexible when it came to their 'favored' students considering how important the Exy program was to the university, although it didn't mean that the Ravens could fail their classes or were allowed to let their grades slip past a certain point. Neil savored the extra half an hour of sleep before they had to meet on court for a quick practice session, and refused to allow his attention to wander over to Adams and Ross who sat on the bench in quiet misery. After a short but intense scrimmage, the players showered, changed into their travel outfits (black track pants t-shirts with red trim, and their team jackets) and grabbed their bags to leave the stadium for the buses since Wilkes-Barre was within driving distance.

There were three black and red buses lined up in the huge parking lot outside of the Ravens' stadium, and Neil glanced at Jean to see which one they would be on for the next seven hours or so. His partner motioned to the first one, then paused when he glanced at Marley and Meg. "You two are on the-"

"No, they're Neil’s responsibility, right?" Riko said with a grin that Neil didn't trust for a moment. "Let them ride with him."

Neil had a feeling that his 'captain' was stirring up trouble for the girls, but there wasn't anything he could do about it, not when the team's 'king' had spoken. "Come on," he told them, while Jean schooled his expression into that careful blankness he always wore around Riko.

"Okay." Judging from the flat line of her lips, Marley had picked up on what Riko was doing but knew an order when she heard it, while Meg was hiding her expression behind the fall of her loose light brown hair.

Riko and Tetsuji were already on the bus, of course, as were Tollis and Ivanova. Saunders and Johnson were quick to grab a couple of the remaining front seats, with Anders and Bautista right behind them, and Neil was grateful to see McPherson and Lau get on before the doors closed. The two dealers sat between the freshmen and the others, and chatted with them while he and Jean took the last two seats.

There was plenty of space to stretch out (especially if one was short, something which Jean snorted at when Neil made a show of waggling his feet on the long seat while Jean had to bend his legs), and at first they pulled out their respective laptops to focus on homework. Neil grew bored with that after a while and went up to talk with Ivanova (mindful of Tollis glaring at him the entire time) so he could work on his Russian a little more.

All the while, he was aware of the other Ravens playing on their phones, texting or taking pictures of each other or the scenery that they passed. Tetsuji watched on with a mildly disproving eye but didn't put a stop to it, and Neil did his best not to cringe when Riko dragged him in close for a quick picture.

In light of district change, Day's 'defection' and the Ferdinand show, it had been decided that the Ravens were allowed a limited amount of posts on social media. Very limited, and very controlled - Neil didn't know if it was Riko, Tetsuji or one of the assistant coaches who approved everything, but nothing the Ravens wrote or photographed went public without being reviewed first. Also, there were strict guidelines of what was allowed: nothing from within the Nest, nothing about their practices, nothing too personal. Nothing that gave too much insight about their playing strategy or being a Raven, and definitely nothing damaging about the Ravens or Edgar Allan. Only things that would benefit the team or that would make them look good (and Day bad).

Apparently, Neil had struck a chord with his whole 'partner' thing that he’d brought up on that damn show, with talking about the friendships and people Day had left behind, and Riko was intent on both throwing that in Day's face and painting the Ravens as a strong 'family'. Anything to hurt his former partner and lessen any arguments that Day could make against him and his old team in the future, Riko was determined to use as a weapon.

All Neil knew was that he was getting damn tired of having phones shoved in his face the few times he was out of the Nest.

Marley groaned when he finally returned to his seat on the bus and pointed her phone at him. "You make my head hurt, you really do. How many languages do you know? There's the French, I've heard you go off in Spanish against Bautista, you're learning Japanese and now Russian?" Behind her, Meg was grinning as she rested her chin on her folded arms along the top of the seat. "Those aren't the towers of Babel back at Edgar Allan, you know."

Jean huffed at that while Neil batted her phone aside. "It's my major, remember? And I just know a little Spanish, barely enough to get by." Enough to insult Bautista's playing skill and family pedigree. He didn't tell her about the German (and the bits and pieces of other languages he’d picked up in Europe), long used to holding a few things back from people; Tetsuji and Riko knew, of course, and Jean had heard him practice a few nights so he could keep up on the language.

"Right." Marley rolled her eyes as she typed something on her phone.  "You're one of those people who like being able to be all snarky about everyone else when nobody can understand them, I get it. My dad's like that - he told us he wanted us to only speak English so we'd get ahead at school, so no one could make fun of us, but we knew better. It's so we didn't understand when he was making fun of how the neighbor mowed his lawn or parked his car, or how he tore into the woman sticking her nose up at us, but my mother has the worst poker face. _We knew_." She pointed the phone back at Neil. " _I know_."

"I think she's on to you," Meg murmured from her seat while still smiling.

"Oh no, not _this_ devil," Jean added as he poked Neil in the shoulder.

"All of you shut up and go to hell," Neil told them as he slumped down in his seat with his arms folded over his chest.

"Yes, your beloved home," Jean called out.

"You're about to be shoved out the emergency exit," Neil warned.

"I've seen your blocking skills, that's never going to happen."

At least Neil knew that Tetsuji or whomever wasn't ever going to approve the pictures of him reaching over the seat in an attempt to shove his Ravens' jacket into a certain French bastard's mouth.

*******

Andrew sat on the bench on the Away side of the court as he struggled to hold off on taking another pill for as long as possible in order to savor his ragged sobriety; the game with the Belmonte Terrapins wasn't over yet, though once again the Foxes were losing. Oh, they weren't doing _too_ bad - without druggie Duncan in the goal, Renee was keeping the point spread down, but the Terrapins were one of the better teams in the league and smarting from their annihilation last week at the hands of the Ravens. That and whenever Yee was out there with Gordon, the Foxes’ offense was in total shambles.

The kid was a little better than last week, had managed to firm up his confidence a tiny bit more... but Gordon acted as if he was the only striker out there, refusing to interact with the rookie in such an oh so mature way. Wymack looked ready to throw a fit at any second (talking about maturity), and Wilds would probably spend the entire trip back to Palmetto yelling at the striker - something that Andrew planned to be unconscious for most of the time to avoid, thanks to a flask of whiskey in his bag.

They managed to score a couple more points when Kevin was subbed back in, but it was only enough to keep Belmonte from trampling all over them; Andrew was seeing a trend there, one of where the Foxes didn't fail entirely but they still failed. Kevin could dream all he want, could rant and rave and make all those fancy playbooks, but the Foxes were the Foxes. They probably stood a decent chance of winning against USC-Columbia next week just because that team sucked, fellow rivals in mediocrity, but someone needed to teach Gordon how to play well with others that didn’t involve petulance and sucking at fist fights.

Mind hazed and hands trembling from withdrawal, Andrew ignored the usual locker room antics (Gordon’s tantrums, Wymack’s stupid speeches, Kevin’s pouting, so on and so forth) so he could wash off the stink and then fumbled in his duffel bag for both the spare bottle of pills and the flask. Tiny white circles of torment and addiction tumbled amid the clean socks and sweatshirt after he jerked the lid off a little too hard, but all he cared about was that one ended up in the sweaty palm of his left hand so he could lick the bitter tasting pill into his mouth and wash it down with Johnny Walker Blue. It was a placebo effect, the way his body stilled only a couple of seconds later, but soon enough the dam med would kick in, would send his mind whirring off into outer and inner space as the awful euphoria crept out of his bones and overwhelmed him once more.

The whiskey was gone and the drug in full swing by the time the rest of the Foxes were finished with their showers, and Andrew only cared about ensuring that his little pack of ‘monsters’ made it onto the bus before crashing. One look at Kevin was enough to convince the Exy junkie that he wasn’t in the mood to talk about the game, and things were quiet (for him) until they reached campus and could get some real sleep in their own beds. Then it was a late breakfast and on the road to Columbia, where the threat of having his precious alcohol snatched away kept Kevin from talking about Exy for the rest of the weekend.

It was busy at Eden’s on Saturday night, but Andrew still got about fifteen minutes in the storeroom with Roland, fifteen minutes for a blowjob followed by a quick jerk-off session once the bartender had left. Roland had asked about the healing cuts on his hand the week before and hadn’t made the mistake a second time, choosing to keep his mouth shut other than to ask about the usual; all Andrew wanted out of the man were strong drinks and things on his own terms.

Andrew had enough on his hands at the moment with Kevin freaking out over the prospect of facing Riko again at the fall banquet and then in October when the Ravens came to Palmetto State. For someone who bitched at all the shit Andrew ate (or didn’t eat), Day certainly didn’t care what the hell he did to his liver with all the alcohol he was drinking lately, but since Andrew found him more tolerable when semi-comatose, Andrew didn’t care.

So it was a good thing to get back at campus and dump him off at their suite along with Aaron (who then went running off to the library on a Sunday afternoon, that wasn’t suspicious at all) and Nicky (who collapsed in a bean bag chair to play games) so Andrew could work off some energy with Renee, who had her uses at time. As soon as he changed into a pair of sweat pants and a muscle shirt, he went down to the basement level of Fox Tower to join her for their weekly sparring session.

She was already down there, dressed in sweatpants and a tank top (pale grey and white to his black), and after a quick warm-up the fighting started. Andrew landed a couple of good hits – one to her left side, high on the ribs, one to her right cheek which would leave a nice bruise, and another that would have got the left kidney if she didn’t spin away just then – but she knocked him into the wall and jabbed a knife under his chin before he could react.

“You’re a little off today,” she told him when he let his hands press against the wall to signal that the fight was over. “Is everything okay?”

He gave her a flat look before he pushed her further aside. “We’re done now.” He wasn’t in the mood for Renee’s ‘are you all right’ nonsense, he got enough of that from Bee and it wasn’t Wednesday yet.

“I see,” Renee sighed as she wiped at the bangs clinging to her forehead, wincing only a little as she brushed the right side of her face. “Do you have a few minutes? I have something to show you.”

For a moment he almost told her ‘no’, but then he remembered that he had a sulking Kevin and a talkative Nicky waiting for him back in the room. “Roof?”

“That’s fine.” She smiled at him as she backed off some more and then went to fetch her bag, from which she pulled out a hooded jacket which she slipped on before grabbing two bottles of water, one of which she threw over to him.

They went up to the roof, where Andrew lit a cigarette before sitting down on the low wall running along the edge, his legs straddling either side, and Renee joined him with a foot or so between them. She pulled her phone out of the bag slung across her chest. “There’s something I want you to see,” she told him when he was about halfway through the cigarette.

“If it’s pics of you and Reynolds that phone is going off the roof,” he warned.

For a moment Renee’s lips thinned but she managed to control her temper as she swiped along her phone. “In fact, it was Allison who found this a couple of days ago. I decided it was best to let you know before Kevin found out.” She handed him the phone.

That sounded promising, didn’t it? Andrew slipped the cigarette between his lips as he accepted the device and looked at the screen. It was an Instagram account, which he found ridiculous, and the phone nearly did get flung to the ground when he saw that it was for the damn Ravens.

Renee must have picked up on that because she waved her hands, which were covered by the cuffs of her jacket. “No, look at it, will you? I filtered it on two of the freshmen.”

“Thirty seconds for this to mean something or you’re going to need a new phone,” he warned, ashes falling onto his lap from the cigarette moving, as he began to flip through the images. There was the usual inane stuff about drinks and scenery and Exy gear (jackets with what appeared to be the two girls’ numbers, which were in the 30’s)… and then he paused when there was a picture of Neil Josten.

He supposed it made sense since Josten was a freshman… except Josten was a ‘4’ and not ‘32’ and ‘32’ respectively. Josten was paired with Moreau, and from what Kevin had explained after the fuck-up of the show last weekend, those two should have little to do with the other Ravens – Moreau hadn’t had much to do with anyone other than Kevin, Riko and his steady rotation of partners, hence why Kevin had taken Josten’s verbal jabs so personally.

The picture showed Josten outside on what must be the Edgar Allan campus frowning at the camera with the caption of ‘someone needs another cup of tea’, posted by mpatel32. The next one was of Josten and Moreau walking side by side, caught in an animated discussion; Moreau’s hands were moving about in the air and Josten’s face was animated, his blue eyes bright and cheeks flushed. That caption read ‘they’re **still** debating Monty Python’. Andrew found his eyes lingering on the picture until the cigarette burned out, which he flung aside in disgust.

There was a picture with Josten, Moreau and some unknown girl with dark brown hair and light brown, almost golden eyes, her skin a creamy tan which stood out in stark contrast to the two young men. She had her left arm draped lightly around Josten’s shoulders but didn’t stand too close as if respectful of his space, yet he had a half smile on his face while Moreau didn’t look like a sour bastard for once. That post was labeled ‘the future Court, just wait and see,’ by mcurtis33.

The girl – she had to be Marley Patel, one of the Ravens’ new recruits – was in a couple of other photos with Josten and one more with Moreau, and it was clear that there was some sort of relationship with the not-rabbit. Same with Meg Curtis, the other new recruit, though not as often. They seemed close enough to tease Josten and complain about him (one photo posted by Patel was of Josten with the Ravens’ starting goalkeeper and went on about him learning Russian) in a familiar manner which the kid tolerated.

Andrew found himself lingering on the picture taken on a bus of Josten sleeping with Moreau’s jacket draped on top of him and forced himself to hand the phone back to Renee. “What’s the point of this, other than to show me that the Ravens have too much time on their hands?”

“The account is new,” she explained as she flicked through the posts herself. “It didn’t go up before last Sunday, so the timing is a bit suspicious. However, the fans are very happy about and it already has a huge following.” She glanced up at him through the thick fall of her pale bangs. “I thought you might want to know about it before Kevin finds out.”

Yes, a certain coward might not react well to images of Riko and Moreau out there, perhaps not even a few other Ravens. Images of his ‘friends’ and what he’d left behind, along with his tattered dignity and everything else. “Why do I get the feeling that there’s an ‘and’?” he asked as he tugged on the end of his left armband.

“I also thought you might want to know that Dan’s decided to reach out to the two girls since they have other media accounts.”

“Reach out how?” The upperclassmen were meddling, and Andrew _detested_ meddlers. They always made things worse with their precious ‘best intentions’.

Renee shrugged as she put the phone away. “Just to let them know that if they want to talk to another Exy player who happens to be a girl that she’s here for them, along with me and Allison.” She gave him a level look as she hugged her bag closer to her chest. “From the little Kevin’s said about the Ravens, it can’t be easy for them, so maybe they want a little advice or a friendly shoulder to lean on.”

Oh, wasn’t it just nauseating, what religion did to a person? “They’re Ravens,” Andrew reminded the do-gooder. “Friendly isn’t in their vocabulary.”

“They don’t start out that way,” Renee chided. “They’re normal people, it’s whatever that goes on in that program that makes them so messed up. We want to help these two… and maybe we’ll figure out what’s going on with Neil that way, too.”

Andrew huffed at that. “You’re a real Samaritan, you are.”

Renee’s dark eyes narrowed in displeasure at the jab. “We’re going to help them regardless, but it won’t be a bad thing if we can find out more about Neil at the same time.”

He was Riko’s little lackey, apparently, just like his father was Kengo’s. “Keep justifying it to yourself that way,” Andrew said as he stood up. “Just make sure you don’t end up getting played, Christian Girl.”

“I won’t,” Renee promised as she stood as well.

Andrew returned to the suite where he got in a pint of ice cream and half of a new novel before Kevin dragged him off to the court, so back to the same old, same old… back to the questions about Josten buzzing in his head. What was going on with the striker and those two girls? With Moreau? Was Josten suicidal or playing games? Did he know that Andrew would take great satisfaction in shoving his head in the toilet if they ran into each other in the men’s room while at the fall banquet for plaguing his mind with all these inane questions?

Something to look forward to at last.

Of course Kevin found out about the damn social media account on Tuesday – Andrew had to wonder if Gordon was to ‘thank’ for that as well, but it may have been one of Kevin’s classmates. He found the coward staring at his phone during lunch in the cafeteria closest to the Fox stadium as if it held the opposing team’s game plan, eyes intent and face set in that stubborn manner of his which made Andrew want to smack it (though to be fair, he wanted to smack a lot of things and a lot of people).

“What is it? A new Court announcement? ERC make another ridiculous ruling? Wymack’s liver finally give out and no practice today?” Andrew intoned in a flat manner as he set his plate of fries and cheese pizza down on the table. “Unless it’s the last one, I don’t give a shit.”

“No, it’s….” Kevin shook his head without tearing his eyes away from the phone – oh, tearing out eyes, now _that_ sounded like fun. “Riko finally convinced the Mah- ah, Tetsuji to set up the media accounts.” He continued to check a few more images. “It seems to be doing them a lot of good, allowing the fans to see a little more of personal side to them. Riko always said that a little smiling now and then would help draw the fans in more, so this is just an extension of that.”

Yes, the best psychopaths were the ones who could convince their victims that they were friendly and normal, after all – there was that whole ‘but he was so nice and normal, I never suspected a thing’ bullshit all the neighbors said in the interviews. Even Kevin had bought into Riko’s act until he was on the receiving end of a racquet, hadn’t he? Andrew saved the pithy comments which no one appreciated and ate his pizza instead, tired of being underappreciated as always. There was that saying about prophets in their times….

As he tore off a piece of his lunch and threw it in his mouth, Kevin gave him a searching look, green eyes narrowed and dark brows drawn together. “You knew about this, didn’t you?”

Seeing no reason to stretch the truth, Andrew shrugged. “Renee told me about it the other day.” He had a bit more of his pizza while Kevin sulked, much like usual. “Why are two freshmen hanging out with Moreau and Josten?” He reached over to tap on the screen of Kevin’s phone, which instantly came back to life to show a picture of Riko, which wasn’t a surprise; the prick was mugging at the camera with his arm around a blank-faced Josten. “You told me that they were ‘different’.” He had to be mindful of what he said since they were out in public.

At first Kevin didn’t answer as he stared down at the displayed picture, his face bearing a disgusting array of emotions similar to remorse and confusion and pain when he should only feel hatred and anger. “They are, and I don’t know what’s going on.” A mirthless laugh escaped him as he flipped through the app. “But what else is new? Maybe it’s a trick to make me think that things are changing there.”

Andrew scoffed as he tore the last of his pizza apart. “Try again.”

“I don’t know,” Kevin repeated. “Higher numbers like Jean and Na- ah, Neil don’t associate with lower ranked ones like those girls other than to have them gopher around and take care of things. They have to work hard to earn their way up through the ranks, on the court and in the Nest.”

Warning bells went off in Andrew’s head when he heard that. “So what, they’re basically at your beck and call, hmm?” he asked as he picked up a fry. “You enjoy having a rookie to order around, ‘2’?” He poked the fry at Kevin’s face, right at the tattoo before throwing it aside.

Kevin flinched away and glared. “We put up with all the older players for _years_ , we grew up at the Nest,” he argued. “Always being told to fetch this and that, to clean the court and put away the racquets. It’s how it was done.”

Oh, how that must have rankled poor widdle Riko, the supposed heir to Exy, Tetsuji’s blood and a Moriyama, yes? Bossed around and low man on the totem pole – at least until he finally grew up enough to do something about it. Until he became a Raven himself. “And what about Moreau?”

That question was like taking a pin to a balloon in how it deflated Kevin’s anger all at once. “He… he’s _different_ ,” Kevin stressed as he searched until he found a picture of the backliner. “He was always Riko’s.”

Meaning he was always a possession, which implied that Josten was also a possession. And possessions could be treated with care or broken on a whim. So which was Josten? Was it the latter? Did that explain why Josten wasn’t afraid of Andrew?

Why was it that the more Andrew tried to figure out the little shit, the more down the rabbit hole he fell?

Ha _, rabbit_ hole.

“Stop staring at them,” he told the coward as he swiped away the phone. “You left them behind, remember?” Kevin flinched at those words. “They couldn’t do anything for you there, and I’m rather certain you don’t want to be back there with your dear buddy Riko, so stop looking at them and eat your damn chicken breast.”

Kevin was quiet as he picked up his fork with his scarred left hand. “Jean… he… that night. He helped me.”

That again. “And will there be anything left to help if you go back?” That caused another flinch, one more pronounced, as Kevin fumbled to pick up a piece of chicken.  When no other comments or arguments were forthcoming, Andrew took that to mean that he could finish eating his meal in peace (and for once no comments on the lack of proper vegetables and protein, how nice).

He also kept Kevin’s phone, and when the others were out on court, used it to check the updates to the Ravens’ account since his flip phone was rather lacking in perusing social media – something he usually considered a bonus when inflicted with a cousin such as Nicky. He quickly filtered down to those posts containing Josten (njosten4), uncaring about the rest of the boring birdies, especially psychotic ones.

There wasn’t much in the last two days, but again, the pictures contained Moreau (which made sense since they were partners), and were always taken by Curtis or Patel with the exception of one, which was a soaked and glowering Moreau who had apparently been caught out on campus during an unexpected rainfall, and had a caption of ‘une baguette trempée, plus crue’.

Whatever the hell that meant, something about bread?

There also one of an unamused Josten with those blue eyes narrowed at a slightly smirking Moreau who held a handful of green leaves up to his chin in a clear attempt to make him eat the stuff, a laughing Patel in the background and a caption of ‘rosbifs et salade’.

Andrew was under the impression that he was missing something, as were the majority of the Ravens’ fans judging from the comments, but the posts had attracted quite a few ‘likes’ and reposts so it was clear that Riko’s plan was working. A quick search showed that Josten’s popularity as a striker was growing, pushing him close to Jeremy Knox, even, something which was certain to provoke an amusing rant from Gordon at the mere mention of ‘Class I Exy striker ranking’.

The stupid shit only had himself to blame in that regard, didn’t he? He’d driven Josten (Wesninski) away from the Foxes before Kevin had a chance to latch on to him, had drawn the Moriyamas onto the kid, and here they were – watching Yee finally snap and take a swing at a stunned Gordon (Andrew actually felt like clapping the kid on) with his racquet, only for Boyd to be a buzzkill and yank Yee back just in time while Nicky freaked out and Wymack called for a break.

“Just when it was getting good,” Aaron grumbled from where he was slumped on the bench. “My money’s on Gordon.”

“Yee,” Andrew said, which made Aaron look at him in surprise. “Gordon’s all mouth. Someone like Yee’s learned a few tricks by now or else he wouldn’t be in any shape to play.” Too small and too ‘other’, Andrew knew that story by heart; it was the only thing in common he shared with Yee. Not that it meant that they’d ever be buddies, not that it meant that he’d hold back on beating the stupid bastard into the ground if need be, but he knew enough that Yee could hold his own in most one-on-one’s.

That and those sparring sessions with Boyd helped.

He closed the one app and pulled up Kevin’s contact list to memorize a number he’d never bothered with before ‘just in case’. Then he watched the circus taking place out on the court, Wymack and Dan yelling at the two strikers and Kevin looming in the background as the disapproving spirit of Exy all set to doom them all.

There were days when Andrew couldn’t stop cursing the meds, and days when he couldn’t stop cursing that they weren’t _stronger_ , that they didn’t knock him out enough to make all of _this_ bearable. That they didn’t numb him instead, just hollow him out to the point that this ridiculousness was _nothing_ – just like him. So he didn’t even care about those few hours of genuine feeling anymore, about why his promise with Kevin was so important, why Kevin’s damn fascination with Exy and Renee’s belief in her faith and Wymack’s insistence in being there for all of the broken Foxes _bothered_ Andrew so much.

None of it mattered, really, so it shouldn’t _feel_ like it mattered.

*******

The day before the fall banquet, the Ravens would get on the buses to ride down to University of North Carolina at Greensboro to face off against the Spartans – they would spend the night there before going to the banquet held at Blackwell University since it wouldn’t make sense to go all the way back to Edgar Allan and then on the road again the next morning.

Neil had been ‘invited’ up to the East Tower on Wednesday to be given a warning by Lola about not running away either Friday night or during the banquet, while Ichirou had watched on without saying a word. Once she was done, Ichirou had commented about how pleased he was that Neil was proving popular among the fans but kept his hands to himself. Yet his gaze had been intent the entire time, and Neil felt himself oddly conscious of the man and grateful to return to the Nest.

At least, until he ran into a jealous Riko. Because of the fall banquet, Riko restrained himself from Neil’s face. Because of the Friday’s game, he limited himself to a few punches. But there had been a moment there when Neil had been down on his knees and Federov had called out Riko’s ‘title’ that he thought that the abuse wouldn’t end there… until someone came out of a room and Neil was let go.

He was let go _then_ , but Riko was a coiled snake with its tail rattling, fangs bared and head pulled back primed for a strike; Saturday he would be face to face with Day again, would have another chance to inflict more pain and damage in whatever twisted game/relationship he had going on with his former partner, and Neil didn’t think things would end at Blackwell. No, it seemed to be like giving a young tiger cub still suckling from its mother raw meat – soon it would crave nothing but the fresh kill.

The Ravens had to suffer Riko until he got the next chance to strike at Day – _Neil_ and _Jean_ had to suffer Riko. That was evident when Neil returned to his room, his left arm wrapped around his throbbing belly, to find his partner hunched over at his desk with a fresh ice pack pressed against his bruising face.

Neil felt a torrid wave of hate upon seeing Jean’s purpling right cheek while his partner shrugged. “ _He forgot himself_ ,” was all Jean had to say. “ _At least at first_.”

If only Neil could ‘forget’ himself enough to pull the knife in his pocket, but he wouldn’t damn Jean like that. “ _I hear kale is very good for bruises. I’ll be kind enough to let you eat all of mine today to help out with that_ ,” he said as he stretched out on Jean’s bed since it was closest; they would have to go to dinner soon, but for then, he just wanted to pretend that it was only the two of them and everything was all right.

Jean’s face twisted a little before he groaned. “ _Only a devil would try to make me laugh when my face hurts this much_.” He came over and, after a moment’s hesitation, sat down on the bed and leaned back to rest against Neil’s hips.

“ _It’s not much of a face, I don’t know why you’re complaining_.” Neil reached out to brush back the hair falling onto Jean’s forehead. “Frog face.”

“ _Ginger devil_ ,” Jean shot back as he tugged on a strand of Neil’s hair in return. They were quiet for several minutes, both appearing to take comfort in being with each other, in knowing that they could be that close to each other and not be harmed, for there not to be any pain but actually a sense of peace in the contact, until it was time to go.

They already had to put up with an unpredictable Riko, they couldn’t risk alienating Tetsuji before a game even if UNC Greensboro wasn’t one of the higher ranked teams. So best to keep to the schedule, to push through the practices and persevere through Riko’s psychotic mood swings.

At least until Neil found what he needed to pull the bastard’s fangs once and for all.

*******

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *******  
> Eh... so, setting up things here, one or two things. The banquet is coming up! Next chapter, yes, yes. The social media thing isn't a whim (and yes, so the AU is set in the present that way), but you'll see. 
> 
> Working on when to bring in a certain someone... still eyeing the timeline. It'll be soon, though.
> 
> I'm intending to get started on HL15 next. We shall see.
> 
> Hmm... anything else?
> 
> As always, the comments and kudos are greatly appreciated.  
> *******


	5. Scene Two - Roger Rabbit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I had hoped to get this up a little earlier, but I went to skim over it thinking it was all nice and edited and found some errors still, so that meant it needed a deeper read and fixed up, and in the middle of that got 'dragged off' for to buy some pumpkins and mums (oh, the horror :) ). Anyway, sorry for making you wait.
> 
> Ahem. Okay, in all seriousness, this... this is a dark/brutal chapter. Nothing new in the way of triggers that hasn't already happened, Riko is still being a huge asshole, Neil is still taking the hits, Jean needs some love (Neil does, too). The referenced non-con here in the first part, nothing explicit as always, though threats are bandied about. But obviously Neil is NOT in a good place and he... is NOT HAPPY.
> 
> Neil is NOT happy, Riko is plotting, and then there is the banquet. Keep that in mind for what happens next, when our smol child unleashes that mouth of his.
> 
> Any questions, ping/message me on [Tumblr](http://nekojitachan.tumblr.com/)(nekojitachan).

*******

The Ravens won their game against the Spartans, but before the team met out on court Riko had spent some time being interviewed, and Neil could only assume that it didn’t go well when the bastard stormed through the locker room with figurative black clouds over his head while everyone else was getting dressed. He ended up getting slammed into the locker and had to bite back on an insult, mindful of the other players, mindful of Jean next to him, and did his best to focus on the game ahead.

The Spartans won the coin toss and first possession of the ball, but it didn’t do them any good – not when Riko was out for figurative (and somewhat literal) blood, not when the Spartans were mid-ranked at best. Not when the Ravens had been reminded of the cost of failure and strove to prove themselves to their ‘Master’ and ‘King’. Despite the lingering aches from Riko’s recent ‘attention’, Neil pushed himself hard out on the court, and would have been proud of his six goals if the Ravens hadn’t won the game 21-4.

For some reason Tetsuji decided that Neil could sit in on the post-game interview with Riko, so Neil handed his helmet and gloves to a grim-faced Jean before going off to sit beside a smiling Riko at a table covered with microphones in front of a crowd of people with cameras, phones and video equipment. He did his best to paste on a smile that wasn’t too obviously false or nervous, and let Riko handle the first couple of questions which had to do with the Ravens winning the game.

“Josten! Number four!” Neil blinked at hearing his name and number, and looked over at a middle-aged man with light brown hair waving to him. “You’re quickly becoming one of your division’s most popular strikers yet we know almost nothing about you outside of what Edgar Allan’s released about your background. How does it feel to be such an untried rookie on one of the best teams in Class I Exy?”

Neil smiled as he fought not to fidget in front of the cameras. “Ah, it’s a bit overwhelming, to be honest. At least Coach Moriyama and Riko keep me so busy with training that I don’t have much time to think about anything but getting better.”

There was laughter at his response, and a grinning Riko reached over to give him a ‘friendly’ pat on the back which reverberated along his spine. “He’s one of our most eager recruits, you can almost always find him out on the court. There’s a reason he’s the latest addition to our Perfect Court,” the smug bastard declared.

“Yes, it’s easy to see with how he’s played in the last few games that there’s a good bit of promise there,” another reporter said, a younger man with his dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. “It’s been commented that you’ve undergone quite the transformation since your Millport days, Neil, both in your playing ability and your appearance. Care to comment?”

“I guess when you’ve bounced around as much as I have because of my parents traveling so much for work, you go through a lot of phases,” Neil lied (well, partially lied), having already prepared an explanation for a question he’d known was coming sooner or later. “You also tend to try to blend in and not stand out when you’re always the new kid in school or town. Being with the Ravens has given me the confidence to be who I really am at last.”

Riko gave him one more pat on the back before leaning forward. “Neil’s not going anywhere now, he has a home for the next five years.”

That wasn’t an ominous threat at all, was it?

“He certainly fills an important hole in the Ravens’ line-up,” another reporter called out, an older man with greying blond hair. “I think everyone is surprised at how well the Ravens are doing this year without Kevin Day – well, Kevin before his unfortunate accident. You’ve made an impressive start this season but the Trojans and the Lions are obviously determined to make the most of the opportunity presented to them. Do you foresee any problems moving forward with a rookie in place of someone whom might have been the best striker of Class I Exy and beyond if given the chance?”

Neil could feel the tension in Riko’s body even as the bastard continued to smile at the people gathered in front of them. “I believe our record so far this season speaks for itself – the Ravens will be more than ready to face the Trojans and the Lions, and just like last year, we’ll defeat them with or without Kevin in our line-up.”

"Well, Cavish from Penn State has gone on record to say that you switched districts because you didn't want to face them on court anytime soon without Kevin or risk losing the district title."

Riko's smile took on a brittle edge, which made Neil want to scoot his chair farther away. "I seem to recall us defeating Penn State in the finals by six points without Kevin, and I believe the first three games of this season should make it clear that the Ravens are on track to win the district regardless of our location." His expression evened out a little but Neil could see that his hands were clenched into fists tight enough for his knuckles to be white. "No one misses Kevin more than I do, he's like a brother to me and he was my partner for years. As much as I'm pleased with Neil's progress and see him as an asset to the Ravens, he'll never take Kevin's place at my side. That said, we will continue to be the best team out there and we’ll continue to be the reigning champions," he declared with a firm voice and his face set with determination. "You’ll only see us excel from this point on."

"And when you face the Foxes in a few weeks?" a woman reporter asked, which prompted a murmur through the crowded room.

A razor thin smile slashed across Riko's face. "I look forward to seeing Kevin again, even as a rival. As dear to me as he is, I will give that game my all, as I expect the same from him... as much as he's able to anymore. Now, I believe that's it for tonight, we played an exciting game and need to rejoin the rest of the team." Riko waved to the gathered reporters who tried shouting out a few more questions with his right hand, a wide grin on his face as he reached out with his left hand to grab Neil by the upper right arm in what probably seemed a friendly gesture but in all actually was a punishing grip. Neil managed to smile at everyone through years of experience from all the times his mother had hauled him through the crowds in a similar manner, but knew that his 'captain' was in a terrible mood, that the interview had tipped Riko over the edge.

He was all but thrown into the away locker room and snarled at to wash off quickly while Riko stomped off to speak to Tetsuji, and for once Neil did as he'd been told. Jean helped him remove his sweat-soaked gear and waited in the doorway of the showers while Neil scrubbed clean, and just when he'd finished rinsing off, Riko stalked in for his own shower. Neil skirted around him so he could go get dressed, a sinking feeling in his gut which only strengthened when he noticed how Riko motioned Federov and Bautista to him when they all got on the bus.

"So, was that an incredible game or what?" Meg asked as she dumped her bag into the seat in front of Marley's but joined her partner in the one next to Neil's. "That goal you got in the third quarter was amazing! Just how flexible are you? I swear a human body shouldn't be able to twist like that!"

"He's not human, he's a devil," Marley reminded her as she made horns with her fingers on top of her head. "Right, Jean?"

"It's nice to see that someone is learning. If only you picked up Exy as quickly." There was the usual amount of disdain in Jean's accented voice, but Neil noticed the concern in his friend's pale grey eyes and knew that Jean had caught Riko with the other upperclassmen, too.

"So much for someone being in a good mood after we kicked Spartan butt." Marley rolled her eyes as she took out her phone from her bag. "Who wants to hang out and maybe watch a movie together? There has to be something good available at the hotel, right?"

"Or maybe they'll have a swimming pool!" Meg's face lit up at that. "Did you bring your bathing suit?"

"Stay in your rooms tonight," Neil told them as he thought about the mad gleam in Riko's eyes. "You can have fun when we get to Blackwell." Where there should be enough people around to ensure that nothing happened to them.

"But what if they don't-"

"Listen to him," Jean said in a stern manner as he gave Meg a cold look. "Watch a movie and play on your phones, just stay in your room until it's time to leave tomorrow."

Marley looked back and forth between him and Neil a couple of times while Meg grew flustered at the command. "And what about you two?"

Neil gave her a bland smile. "Perfect Court stuff." Being Riko’s possession stuff. Fun and games and pain and humiliation, joy oh joy.

Her breath hitched at that, which led him to wonder just how much she'd figured out in the past couple of months, how much McPherson and the others knew and had passed on to her. She was smart and driven, after all, and she seemed to have realized that it was in her best interest to avoid certain Ravens, to keep Meg near her whenever possible and to stick close to Neil, Jean and the others whom Neil had vouched for back when he'd 'claimed' her during the summer.

She also knew to give him and Jean some space, to not push when it came to certain questions about their pasts or families or anything too personal.

"Okay, so movie night it is," Marley said in a quiet voice. "We'll do our nails and work on our hair, all that fun stuff which I'm sensing that a certain crusty baguette is already internally sneering about even if I bet that he's got a bunch of mousse and a fancy gel tucked in his overnight bag."

"First off, ma puce, I suffer that ridiculous affectation from _him_ ," Jean reached over to poke at the side of Neil's head and pulled away just in time to prevent his hand from being smacked, "because I'm certain that exorcising him back to his home below would only end up with me being saddled with an even worse partner."

"Worse than a devil? Hmm, interesting to consider," Meg murmured as she rubbed at her left cheek, her good mood seemingly restored.

"I loathe you all so very, very much," Neil declared as he tucked himself into the corner of his seat as if he could distance him far enough from the trio.

"I'm not going to tolerate it from a pair of pathetic rookies," Jean continued as if he hadn't been interrupted. "Second, you are incorrect, as usual." He ran his fingers through his long, full bangs while the sneer came out in full force. "I do _nothing_ with this. It's natural."

"Natural my ass," Marley sneered back. "Come on, Neil, spill. How long does it take him in the bathroom each morning to look like that?"

Neil opened his mouth to answer and then caught Jean mouthing the word 'kale smoothies’ at him. "Uhm, it's natural," he replied as he folded his arms over his chest as there was a faint taste of bile in his mouth.

" _Right_." Marley clearly wasn't buying it, but then again, she wasn't partnered with the sadistic bastard so what did it matter? Fortunately, the bus finally got moving through the crowded parking lot so she sat down and took to texting on her phone.

Maybe not so fortunately, as she'd admitted to Neil on Thursday that Dan Wilds and Renee Walker of the Palmetto State Foxes had reached out to her and Meg to see if they wanted to talk to fellow women Exy players, and so might be exchanging messages with to the two of them. At first Marley had been suspicious, but Meg had already sent a few texts ( _of course_ she had) and everything seemed legitimate with the two players' offer and advice.

Neil was still on the fence about the whole thing considering that the young women were on the same team as Day and Minyard... but it was common knowledge that Wilds had fought hard for her position as NCAA Class I's only woman captain, that she was a decent player and seemed a decent person as well. That Renee Walker was the Fox credited with the team donating a portion of their tickets to charity and, while not as good a goalie as Minyard (when he bothered to try), she was pretty good on her own right. He supposed that they were better 'role models' than Tollis, at the least - and that Marley knew enough to keep her and Meg (more Meg) from giving away too much about the Ravens.

Meg managed to get a picture of Marley messing up Jean's precious hair once they were off the bus, and then of her trying to hide behind Neil to escape Jean's wrath (not her greatest idea, considering that she had about seven inches on Neil when barefoot). Jean gave her a light smack to the back of her head and made her carry all of their bags into the hotel, where they waited in the large lobby for the assistant coaches to fetch their room keys.

All traces of amusement faded away once _Riko_ came over to Neil and Jean with their key cards held in his hand. "Come," he told them, his dark eyes possessing a too-brittle gleam and his lips a slight, cruel smile.

The sick feeling returned to Neil's stomach, temporarily vanquished by the presence of Marley and Meg. He grabbed his duffel bag and overnight suitcase so he could follow Riko, and felt a wave of nausea when a grinning Federov and Bautista fell in step behind him and a quiet Jean as if to box them in.

They went up to the tenth floor, with Riko leading the way like a bellwether stepping lightly to the slaughter ground. He used one of the cards that he'd shown Neil to open the door to what was probably a nice hotel room, clean and spacious with a plush, neutral colored rug on the floor and double-sized beds in the main room (the type of hotel which Neil had never stayed at with his mother during all those years on the run). Bautista let the door (the only exit) slam shut behind them after slipping something on the handle (probably the ‘do not disturb’ sign) then put the security bolt into place, a leer on his face as Neil and Jean were herded into the sleeping area.

“I think you know what comes next,” Riko said as he stepped toward Neil. “Are you going to surprise me? Tell me Jean’s name tonight?”

“No.” Neil glared at the prick, unable to hold back his anger that much. Unable to pretend that he could willingly go along with this farce of obedience.

Still, Riko smiled down at him right before he backhanded Neil with his left hand, the force of the blow enough to knock Neil’s head aside and him off-balance. Before Neil could right himself, Riko grabbed him by the hair and shoved him toward the bed closest to the window. “Still so defiant after all this time, when telling me you’ll let yourself be fucked on my command.” He gave Neil’s hair another harsh yank. “I _own_ you!” he all but shouted with spittle raining down on Neil’s face. “You’re never going to run away, either of you. You’re going to stay by my side, going to stay in your proper places because you’re _my property_ , even if I bring the whole team in here to fuck you, the whole damn hotel. Isn’t that right?” He kept yanking on Neil’s hair as he shouted, his eyes bright with madness.

“Yes,” Neil managed to choke out, aware that the sooner he answered, the sooner the real pain would start and then end. “Yes, king.”

“Right, _Four_.” Riko grinned, the expression as demented as its owner, as he shoved Neil onto the bed. “You’ll do whatever I tell you to do because I own _you_ , you and Jean and those girls.” He motioned first to Federov and Bautista, and then to Jean. “ _Three_ , you get to hold his hands and keep him still.”

Neil’s stomach twisted when he heard that, and he looked beyond a smirking Federov already stripping off his clothes to see Jean’s bloodless face. Forcing himself to nod, Neil raised his hands above his head. “ _Do it_ ,” he told his partner in French. “ _It’s not your fault_.”

“Don’t talk like that,” Riko ordered as he yanked on Neil’s hair yet again. “Or he’ll join you.”

Neil gritted his teeth together and fought the impulse to dig his nails into Riko’s hand, his arms, especially when Bautista crawled onto the bed.

“ _Three_!”

Jean jumped at Riko’s raised voice and finally obeyed, his motions lethargic and face devoid of emotion. Still, his eyes were full of remorse and when he knelt by the head of the bed, his fingers cold and loose around Neil’s wrists once Bautista stripped off Neil’s Raven’s sweatshirt.

Their grip grew tighter and tighter as the night wore on, as Neil did his best to pull free, to fight back, but Neil didn’t blame his partner. Not when he stared into those glassy grey eyes to help blank out what was happening to him, to block out the pain and degradation, the feel of those other hands-

He focused on Jean to get him through something he was growing afraid just might break him one of these times.

It had to end eventually, with Federov placing a lingering kiss against Neil’s tattoo and promising ‘soon’ before he left. “Remember that you’ll always be mine,” Riko said as he followed the two upperclassmen to the door. “Be obedient or I’ll make your lives even more of a living hell.”

Neil lay sprawled on the bed as the door closed shut behind the prick, and then he was scrambling to sit up, to move, Jean’s fingers no longer clamped around his wrists. “Bah-“

“Yes,” Jean said as he wrapped an around Neil’s trembling shoulders and half carried him to the bathroom; they made it just in time for Neil to throw up in the toilet, more dry heaving than anything since he hadn’t eaten for hours. While he lay slumped over the toilet, Jean started the shower for him, steam quickly filling the white room (Neil couldn’t get used to the brightness after so many months in the Nest, couldn’t take how the gleam of light on the white tiles made his eyes ache). When a minute or two had passed without him trying to throw up anything else, Jean helped him to more or less climb into the tub, where he sat huddled beneath the spray of hot water.

He stayed there until he could stop trembling, until he felt as if he wouldn’t break apart at the slightest thought or touch, while Jean came and went a couple of times (cleaning up, washing his hands, leaving something on the counter). The bruises were already starting to form on Neil’s wrists and his inner thighs, and probably on his face and neck if he bothered to check the mirror (he didn’t want to check the mirror).

His legs were unsteady when he forced himself out of the bathtub, but Jean had hung a robe and couple of towels within reach; Neil wrapped one of the soft towels around his waist and draped another one on his head before going over to the counter, where there was a pile of the clothes he’d brought to wear for the night (boxer-briefs, comfortable black pajama bottoms and a black t-shirt) along with a familiar first aid kit. He almost laughed at the sight of the latter, at the thought that Jean had the foresight to pack it… but he supposed that Jean had too much experience with Riko and his moods, had suffered through them too much to be caught unaware.

It took him a little while to patch himself up for the night, and he kept out two pills to take for when he left the bathroom. He stepped out of the stuffy room to find that Jean had cracked open the one window (it wouldn’t slide open enough to let them slip out, plus too steep a drop without anything to use to climb down) to air it out a little. His partner had also stripped off the soiled bedspread and shoved it into the far corner of the room.

“Here.” Jean handed him a bottle of water and took the first aid kit from him, mindful not to touch too much.

“Ah, it’s all yours.” Neil motioned to the bathroom. “And… thanks.”

Jean gave him a look as if he was crazy, his grey eyes reddened as if he’d been crying. Neil shuffled his feet a little and stepped aside so Jean could wash off for the night and, after taking the pills and making sure the door was security-bolted for the night, went to lie down on the bed near the door.

His entire body ached, the lower part especially, and he just wanted to sleep, to find a bit of obliviousness and numbness for a short while. To forget about the number tattooed on his cheek and all about the Moriyamas and Ravens and even Exy for the night.

Jean came out after ten minutes or so, also dressed in black pajamas, and went to close the window. He paused before he walked over to the chair off to the far side of the room.

“ _We can share the bed_ ,” Neil told him, unwilling for Jean to suffer more than he had already.

Jean once again looked at him as if he was insane. “ _No, it’s for you. Get some sleep_.”

“ _I’m used to sharing it_ ,” Neil confessed. “ _My mum… we always slept together, back to back. That way she knew I was safe with her and there was less chance of anyone sneaking up on us_.”

Jean was quiet as if he was thinking about that. “ _How can you want to share a bed with me after tonight_?” His voice sounded as raw as his eyes.

“ _Because you didn’t do anything to me_ ,” Neil told him. “ _Riko, Federov and Bautista did. Now shut up and get over here, I’m tired_.” He held up the blankets for the stupid Frenchman. “ _And don’t snore for once._ ”

It was quiet again for a couple of seconds, and then Jean huffed. “ _I don’t snore at all, you’re delusional. That’s why you need to eat more vegetables, your senses are horrible from the lack of vitamins_.”

“ _My senses are fine_ ,” Neil grumbled as he tensed at first when there was a weight settling on the bed. But he could smell the familiar woody deodorant which Jean used, along with the mint toothpaste, and there was something inherently comforting to have that presence at his back after so many years. A presence which he trusted, whom he knew wouldn’t hurt him, and so he slowly relaxed into the strange, too-soft bed.

Still, even with Jean there, he didn’t get much sleep that night, not with the nightmares chasing him from unconsciousness every hour or so – him and Jean. They pressed their backs against each other for what little comfort they could find, but Neil would hear Jean’s soft pleas when he woke up utterly still with his heart thundering in his chest, the awful ghost sensation of hands along his body following him to the waking world.

The next morning was a quiet affair, with Neil and Jean remaining in their bed as long as possible since there wasn't much to do before joining the others on the bus to head off to Blackwell. Jean ordered them a light breakfast once Neil forced himself to move and take another long shower, the hot water a relief of sorts on his sore muscles. When he finally did leave the steam-filled room, condensation slick on the mirror, tiles and other hard surfaces, clad in a robe that swallowed up his limbs and almost brushed against the floor, Jean had a pot of black tea waiting for him along with a big bowl of fresh fruit, several slices of toast and a tart yogurt.

Despite himself, Neil smiled, the expression slight yet heartfelt. " _Thank you_."

" _Eat it all, as Tetsuji probably won't find anyplace suitable for us to stop at while on the road_ ," Jean warned, a slight flush to his cheeks while he ducked his head and grabbed a cup of coffee to take into the bathroom with him; it looked as if he'd already had some toast, hard boiled eggs and oatmeal while he'd waited for Neil.

Finished with his breakfast by the time Jean left the bathroom, Neil accepted another pill from his partner to wash down with the last of the tea before he fetched the clothes that they were expected to wear to the banquet that night: black dress pants and a black long-sleeved shirt. There was an option to change at Blackwell, apparently, but Tetsuji wanted them to appear ‘perfect’ from the very start.

Part of Neil wanted to ball up the clothes and throw them away, to run for the nearest exit and pull the fire alarm along the way to cause a distraction to aid in his escape. To put all those years on the run to good use as he fled, certain that he could get past the assistant coaches and few bodyguards who'd tagged along to watch over Riko (and him). But Jean didn't have those same skills, neither did Marley and Meg, and part of last night (besides Riko's eternal need to hurt, to wield the miniscule amount of power he possessed) had been Riko driving home the fact that no matter what happened, Neil (and Jean) were going nowhere. That they were Ravens forever, tied to the Moriyamas and Edgar Allan in pain and debt and servitude.

That they weren't Kevin Day, able to run away if and whenever they wanted.

Neil started when Jean reached out to touch him lightly on the left shoulder. " _Here, we need to do something with you_ ," Jean said, his voice quiet and demeanor subdued. Neil only hesitated for a moment before letting his partner lead him to the bathroom, where he suffered through having makeup (Jean had thought to bring some of that, too) applied to the bruises on his right cheek, wrists and neck, and then gel to his hair in an effort to hold back the thick, loose curls.

"If only Marley could see this," Neil teased, the left corner of his mouth quirked up the slightest bit as Jean's large yet gentle hands combed through his bangs yet again.

"Kale smoothies," Jean repeated, that time out loud.

"And you call _me_ a devil."

Jean merely smiled at that, the expression faint yet pleased.

They finally left the room to go downstairs and join the others in the lobby, where a stern Tetsuji greeted them with an appraising look as if to ensure that they met his high standards while a smiling Riko stood next to him. Neil ignored the kiss which Federov blew at him, mindful of Jean's warm hand on the small of his back to center him, of Marley's curious gaze and Meg's pleased smile at his appearance; nine more months at the most he'd have to suffer the two upperclassmen, he told himself. Nine months. He'd survived ten years with his father, he could do less than a year without giving in to the barely restrained seething temper within him, without handing Riko an excuse to take things out on Jean and the girls.

Nine more months.

He refused to think about some other Raven stepping into their place when those nine months were up, about Loiseau and-

"Neil? You all right?"

He summoned a smile for Marley because of the concern in her voice. "Yeah, just didn't sleep too good last night because of being in a strange bed," he lied with ease.

"Well, maybe this will make you happy." Meg pulled her hands from behind her back to reveal two travel cups, one which she handed to him and the other to Jean. "We braved the line for the café and got some granola bars, too."

"You're not completely useless," Jean said in a patronizing manner as he accepted his coffee, which made Meg beam with joy.

"We love you, too, Crusty," Marley told him while snapping a picture of him glaring and Neil hiding a smile behind the rim of his cup of tea.

"I'm going to work you _into_ the court for that, ma puce," Jean informed her, which only made Marley smile some more.

"Go ahead and try."

"They're such good friends, aren't they?" Meg said to Neil as they headed out to the bus.

"You need therapy, something's not right with you," Neil told her in all seriousness, which only made Meg laugh again.

The thought of being on a bus, on being in such close quarters with so many people he didn't trust, with several people who had outright abused him, made Neil's skin crawl and stomach churn, but he forced himself to climb the steps without showing any emotion, weakness or pain. Still, Jean must have picked up on something (must have felt much the same), because he reached behind to snag the sleeve of Neil's jacket and pulled him toward the back of the bus then motioned for Neil to sit in the very last seat.

" _What_?" Neil stared at him in confusion, since that's where Jean always sat while facing everyone.

" _Sit_ ," Jean told him, which Neil did after a moment's hesitation. Once he was tucked into the corner, Jean sat on the outer edge of the long, bench-like seat, which left enough space between them that they didn't touch.

Neil felt himself relax at last, now that he was tucked away from everyone, was in a spot where he could see everyone else on the bus (well, if he lifted up enough), where he had someone he trusted between him and anyone who might come for him. " _Thank you_ ," he breathed out as he curled up with his knees against his chest, the warm cup of tea cradled in his hands.

Jean's lips twitched for a moment. " _If you're here, then you shouldn't be able to cause too much trouble._ "

" _Is that a challenge_?"

Now Jean took to frowning. " _I would say something here about devil's advocate, but I believe it's rather redundant._ "

" _I don't know what you're talking about, I just mind my business and_ _all,_ " Neil informed him with an affronted air.

" _That is the most preposterous thing I've heard in ages - at least since the little flea declared herself the second coming of Muldani_." Jean slumped down in the seat a little and folded his arms across his chest, the coffee held right beneath his chin. " _Perhaps you should be checked out_ -"

"Hey, are you talking about me?" Marley asked as she bounced into the seat in front of them, the skirt of her black dress flaring around her long legs. "I think you're talking about me."

Meg was quick to join her while taking yet another damn picture of Neil and Jean. "Do you know she's studying French in her spare time? I'm falling asleep at night listening to her slaughter- _oof._ " She gave her partner an unhappy look, probably for the elbow to her ribs.

"You weren't supposed to tell them yet," Marley complained. "Not until I was further along."

"What, like another decade or two?"

"Wow, that's harsh for Meg," Neil commented as he fiddled with the one cuff of his shirt then remembered about the makeup hiding his bruises and stopped.

"I keep dreaming I'm stuck in some horrible French movie," Meg complained as she typed on her phone, probably to add a caption to the picture before she posted it. "All these little black berets and mimes everywhere...."

Jean stared at her in evident horror before rubbing at his face and muttering in quiet French for several seconds. "I am in hell," he finally said aloud.

"Welcome to the club," Neil told him while nudging him in the thigh with his uncomfortable dress shoe. "Your new ID card and membership packet will arrive in the mail any day now."

"Oh shut up, you impudent rosbifs!"

The girls laughed at that, and Marley took to going over all of her memorized French words for Jean to first mock and then correct her pronunciation. Neil would join in now and then while he drank his tea, but he was tired and sore (and doing his best not to think about why), and dreaded spending the next two days with over a dozen other Exy teams while he had to plaster on a fake smile, to be social (a bit of Stefan, a bit of Claude).

To deal with Riko around Day and Minyard.

He must have dozed off at one point, used to the sway of buses and the chatter of people around him after so long spent traveling around Europe with his mother, put at ease by someone next to him to keep watch, to keep him safe. Tense at first from the light touch to his right knee, he blinked back to awareness to find Jean gazing at him with concern and realized that the bus had stopped.

"You can get off to stretch your legs and fetch something to drink," Jean told him. "We've still a couple of hours to go."

At first Neil almost said 'no', but he knew it would be best if he did move around, to stretch abused muscles if he didn't want to give anything way that night. So he grit his teeth together for the first few steps while Jean blocked him from the others' views, and had his gait down to normal (more or less) by the time he hit the parking lot.

The Ravens drew a lot of attention when they went into the juice bar (trust Tetsuji to stop there and not at a Starbucks or a fast food place), with the customers asking for pictures, especially from Riko. Neil was surprised when a few people asked for ones of him and Jean, even with the girls in them, and glanced at Marley. "You guys have a lot of followers, do you know that?" she told him with a wide grin while holding up her phone as if that explained everything.

"No."

She rolled her eyes as she typed away on her phone. "Why am I not surprised? It's a good thing you have me, Shorty."

"For what, exactly?" Neil asked as they waited in line. "A caddy?"

"Ooh, he got you there," Meg murmured as she continued to play with her own phone.

"Just wait until we make it to the pros, I can't wait to kick your tiny butt out on court," Marley told him while cracking her knuckles.

"A lumbering klutz like you would have to catch me first," Neil replied with utter disdain (he had learned that from Jean), then easily ducked the swipe to his head (he had learned that- well, he already knew that). Meg promised to buy them their smoothies if they stopped fighting (Neil didn’t have any money on him and had assumed that Tetsuji was picking up the tab), and soon enough he was giving his order for a strawberry and kiwi smoothie to a teenage girl who smiled at him a bit too much and made his skin crawl when her fingers brushed against his when she handed him his order number.

Marley was right behind him in line and stood next to them as they waited for their drinks. “You don’t like it when people flirt with you, do you? I noticed it in class and on campus.”

Was that what the girl had been doing back there? Why? Neil scrubbed his hand along his thigh and shook his head. “No.” He thought back to the girls in Europe who had smiled at him, the ones he’d kissed which had made his mother so angry. He didn’t want to kiss anyone anymore, didn’t feel any interest at all in figuring out what made people so interested in any of that stuff. In _him_ when he wasn’t attractive at all. Right then, he wished that he could figure out what would make them _not_ interested in any of that stuff. “No, I don’t.”

“Yeah, I thought so.” Marley fidgeted with the zipper of her black Ravens jacket. “I’m not, either. My mom always told me I’d be one day, that I’m just too focused on sports and Exy, but… _nothing_.”

Neil glanced aside to find Marley looking at him with one of the most open expressions he’d ever seen on her face and gave her a tiny smile. “Well, you’re half tree. Probably into photosynthesis or something. It’s completely natural for you so don’t worry about it.” He motioned to her height while he spoke, increased by the heeled shoes she wore.

Marley laughed and gave a slight push to his right shoulder. “Jean’s so right about you being a devil.”

Of course that’s when the smug bastard had to walk over to them with Meg at his side. “What’s that? Of course I’m always right.” He gave Neil a haughty look. “I’m perfect, even that British oaf agrees.”

“You’re about to be wearing a smoothie,” Neil warned as he heard his number be called out.

“Then you’ll just have to drink mine,” Jean told him as he held up his receipt. “I know you love beets and spinach almost as much as kale.”

There might be something to that whole ‘devil’ thing after all, Neil thought as he stomped his way over to the counter – he certainly felt as if he was in hell.

He certainly _knew_ he was in hell when Riko approached the back of the bus later when they were on the road again, a smug smile on his face. “Let’s talk about what’s going to happen tonight,” the prick said as he boxed the last couple of seats in by bracing his arms across the far wall and the back of Meg’s seat while she cringed into the far corner, for once the smart one. “You’re going to be good, _right_?”

Hell indeed, and he’d been sentenced there in part thanks to two Foxes.

*******

Andrew sat in the back of the Foxes’ travel bus trapped with thirteen other people and once more dwelt upon his poor life choices; Reynolds and Gordon were having yet another ‘off’ week and so Gordon was being even more loud and obnoxious than usual, Nicky was a hyper mess laughing with some guy named Jim from his improv class (an arts major, wonderful), and look at that, Aaron had brought a Vixen along. A Vixen who had marked herself for some grief, judging from the sickening glances they kept exchanging between the two of them, the way their hands hovered close together as if used to clutching the other.

Someone never learned, did he? Like mother, like son, it seemed. Well, Andrew had gotten through to Tilda in the end (it had taken her going through a windshield, granted), he’d get through to Aaron, too.

First thing first, though, which was getting Kevin through a boring, useless banquet in one piece and liver somewhat functional. The damn bi-yearly things were annoying enough without the added drama of Ravens swooping in, but Andrew had a promise to uphold. A promise which kept him away from Columbia that weekend.

He had to put up with Riko’s bastard self that night, but it also meant he would get another chance to crack the mystery that was Neil Josten. Pros and cons….

At least they would only be spending the first evening at the event, considering all of the scorn and abuse heaped upon the Foxes at previous banquets – for some reason no one wanted to play nice with the worst team in the Southeast district. It didn’t matter that they could no longer lay claim to that title after making it to the death matches last year and winning their third game of the season last night (that and managing a decent point spread with their first two losses), between the lingering hard feelings and the knowledge of Riko Moriyama attending, no one felt the need to make targets of themselves for two days in a row.

Andrew was fine with that, since he had no desire whatsoever to spend any time with thirteen other Exy teams, let alone _his_ Exy team.

After a couple of hours into the four hour drive to Blackwell, Renee left the front of the bus where she’d been talking to Abby to come to the back. She gave Andrew a polite smile and motioned toward the edge of the seat and, after he nodded and moved to sit with his legs positioned forward, sat down near the aisle so there was plenty of space between them. Kevin glanced back at them, but a flat look from Andrew made him resume reading one of his history books.

“The Ravens are on their way,” she said as she handed him her phone, already open to the Instagram account.

“One can only hope there’s a tragic multi-vehicular accident along the way,” Andrew said in a bland manner as he flipped through the app; it had been two days since he’d searched through it on Nicky’s phone. It looked as if the Raven girls had been busy since there were several new photos of Josten and Moreau posted, all of them already shared and liked hundreds if not thousands of times.

One of the newest was of Josten tucked into the corner of a bus seat fast asleep, his hair combed back from his face so his high cheekbones stood out even more, along with that damn ‘4’ on the left side of his face. ‘I want to adopt him so much when he’s like this’ – mcurtis33. Judging from the numerous comments and likes, she wasn’t the only one.

There was another one of a laughing Patel hiding behind an amused (and short) Josten while a glowering Moreau hovered off to the side, with the caption of ‘Neil is ever our hero’ from Curtis once again, and a picture of a tired yet pleased Josten and Moreau holding coffee cups in their hands. ‘Guess who’s British and guess who’s French’.

“Is this girl their official fan club spokesperson or what?” Andrew asked, his smile a little too wide, his tone a little too bright. “She sounds as if she’s trying to take away your crown of the world’s chirpiest, most annoying person.”

“So you noticed!” Renee smiled at his unimpressed look and laughed. “That would be Meg, wouldn’t it?” Her smile faded as she gazed out of the window. “She seems very kind and trusting.”

“The usual descriptives one always uses for Ravens. They’re the first which come to mind whenever someone says ‘Riko’, in fact,” Andrew drawled as he continued to flip through the pictures of Josten, almost all of them with Moreau at his side; the whole partner thing was utterly ridiculous and annoying.

“A slight exaggeration,” Renee murmured. “But yes, I’m worried about her – Dan is, too.” She motioned at her phone, and Andrew found himself unwilling to hand it back for a moment, which of course meant that he tossed it over. “Marley is… well, she’s being a bit more circumspect in what she tells us, a bit more cautious. She keeps things limited to Exy, asks Dan a lot of questions about being captain, about working out and things like that.” Renee’s lips twitched a little as her fingers tapped along the phone’s sensitive screen. “She’s ambitious, it’s easy to tell. Dan’s betting she’ll go far and really wants to help her out, to see her make it to the pros and eventually Court.”

“And dear, sweet Meg?” Andrew asked as he leaned a little more into the corner of the seat. “There’s a purpose to this, remember? Forming your little girls’ club is all well and good, but I’m sensing a weak link here and Curtis is it. Don’t go all good Christian girl on me, tell me what you’re finding out.” Else he was ordering Renee to leave and enjoying the rest of the ride in blissful peace and quiet.

The muscle in Renee’s jaw twitched for a moment (so nice to know that he could get beneath _her_ skin, that oh so false veneer she layered over the wolf buried deep down under the sheep’s clothing). “I was getting to that.” She handed him the phone once again. “Dan’s raised a couple of topics to the girls while chatting with them under the pretext of ‘lessons learned’.” Again there was that slight twitch. “About needing to stand together and be there for each other, about how their own teammates and other players might try to pull them down because they’re women. That they might want to look into a self-defense class, just in case. Marley’s response was that she’s fine, but Meg’s was rather interesting.” She nodded to the screen.

Andrew glanced down to see that Renee had pulled up a specific chat between her, Wilds and Curtis where Wilds had gone on about Curtis needing to look out for herself, only for Curtis to reply ‘that’s all right, Neil does that for us’, followed by a smiley face emoticon. When Renee tried to explain that Wilds meant that Curtis should be on guard against other players trying to prove that women shouldn’t be in Exy or upset that a woman could play just as good as them if not better, Curtis merely replied ‘no, it’s fine, we have Neil now. And Jean’. Followed by another smiley face and a frowning emoticon.

He stared at the chat for at least a minute before going through the rest of them, reading Curtis’ replies and then Patel’s. Renee had been right in that Patel kept things focused on Exy, shying away from anything personal or related to the Ravens – anything related to Josten and Moreau, other than a comment about how she was training with the two of them. Curtis was the chattier of the two (was a real Nicky, loquacious and an airhead), willing to complain about how tired she was from the constant practices (she trained with Moreau and Josten as well, and made a comment or two about Moreau being brutal but teaching her a lot) and never seeming to have much downtime.

It was easy to pick up from the few asides that she was always around Patel, and a good bit with Josten and Moreau as well. That she didn’t care for Riko at all, though she didn’t sound unhappy about being a Raven. She didn’t sound unhappy at all – Andrew attempted to wrap his mind around a well-adjusted, bubbly _Raven_.

“Something is going on here,” he declared as he once again tossed Renee back her phone.

“Yes, it doesn’t appear quite like the picture Kevin’s been painting us, does it?” she agreed as she tucked back a lock of her pale, rainbow dipped hair. “The partner bond is evident between Meg and Marley… but why are they interacting so much with Neil and Jean? Meg makes it sound as if those two are watching out for them.”

“That or we’ve a lovely case of Stockholm syndrome happening, don’t always jump to the happiest conclusion,” Andrew taunted her.

Renee rolled her eyes as she stood up. “We should gain some insight soon enough, right? When we see them in person.” She waved at him and went back up to the front of the bus to talk to Abby once more, leaving Andrew alone with his thoughts.

He thought about everything that Kevin had told him about Edgar Allan, the Nest and the Ravens, about the twisted pairing system which left Kevin barely able to function unless someone else was around him as used to having Riko always at his side as he was after all these years. How the Ravens spent most of their university years in the Nest at Castle Evermore, only leaving for a couple of hours a day (if that) for classes or an away game, barely ever going home even for holidays or summer break. How they strove to reach the highest rank/lower number, so much so that there was a caste of sorts between the ‘Perfect Court’, those on the starting line-up (10-19), and the rest of the team.

Yet everything he saw about Josten online (which could be a carefully crafted lie) seemed to contradict that, considering his close association with two of the lowest-ranked members of the team. Two teammates whom he was apparently protecting. As much as Andrew wanted to dismiss that, he (easily) recalled how Josten had taken Kevin to task on Ferdinand’s asinine show for ‘abandoning’ Moreau and his old teammates.

Another damn piece of the puzzle which didn’t quite fit with everything else, another layer revealed as if Josten was one of those stupid Russian nesting dolls.

Andrew continued to debate possibilities until signs for Blackwell University began to appear and Kevin’s composure (such as it ever was) began to fracture, just like his fragile sense of sobriety. Clicking his tongue as the coward gave in to a panic attack, Andrew leaned over the back of Kevin’s seat as the football and Exy stadiums came into view. “Hey, hey,” he told Kevin, who was hunched into himself on the seat with his left leg pulled against his chest and his head buried into the crook of his arms, his history book left forgotten next to him on the seat. “You’ll tear something if you keep breathing like that.” Not that he so much as cared about the possibility of injury, except that Kevin would be unbearable to live with until he healed and could play his stupid stickball once more.

"Look at me," Andrew said a little louder when Kevin continued to remain curled into himself, his body trembling with fear. "It'll be fine. You believe me, yes?"

"I believe you," Kevin said, his voice muffled and tight with that fear.

"Liar." Andrew laughed, still riding a drugged high from the meds he’d taken before getting on the bus, and leaned over to look out at the campus, at the lack of so much insipid orange and white. There were several buses from other universities there, including three large, shiny, ugly black ones bearing a flying raven logo in red. So much for Renee’s precious god coming through with that accident, but Andrew had learned long ago to never put his faith in a higher power to fuck things up for anyone but him.

Wymack parked their bus far away from those black buses and ordered everyone else off of it as he headed to where Andrew and Kevin were still sitting while carrying a bag; once he reached Kevin’s seat, he grabbed a bottle of vodka from the bag and set it next to the coward. “You have ten seconds to inhale as much of this as you can. I’m timing you. Go.”

Of course Kevin didn’t need any more encouragement than that. “What, none for me?” Andrew drawled with a grin, to which Wymack glared at him before having to pry the bottle out of Kevin’s hand, the amount of alcohol in it remarkably reduced. It was enough to make the Exy junkie stumble to his feet and walk (more or less) off the bus between Wymack and Andrew, however, so Andrew had to (silently) give the old man some credit for that.

Abby already had the storage doors beneath the bus open so everyone could grab their own bags since they’d planned to change into their dress clothes once they got inside, and as soon as they all had their bags in hand, Wymack led them toward the Exy stadium. A pair of security guards were waiting at the entrance to check their names off a guest list (Andrew gave them a wide smile, the feel of his knives comforting around his forearms), and one escorted them to the far side of the stadium to use the away locker room to change.

There was even a gear closet for them to lock up their personal items, how thoughtful (Renee waved Andrew’s hand aside when he would have torn down the ‘Palmetto State’ sign), and the team (plus Abby and two very extraneous dates) followed Wymack toward the court where the banquet was held. Kevin had enough liquid courage rushing through his veins at that point to be steady on his feet and hold his head up high – at least until the first sign of a Raven, Andrew was willing to bet.

Wymack opened the door leading onto a court crowded with tables and people so they could step inside, and some coach announced the team’s presence over a megaphone which made the assembled teams stop and stare at the Foxes (oh how Andrew always adored being the center of attention like that). After hesitating a moment to share a look with Wilds, Wymack went off to play nice (more like drink) with his fellow coaches, leaving the Foxes to fend for themselves since Abby tagged along with her ‘not-boyfriend’ after giving Kevin one last reassuring pat on the arm.

“Wow, this… they do this every year?” Yee asked as he glanced around with wide eyes at all the tables and banners.

“Fucking rookie,” Gordon muttered, at least until Reynolds and Wilds gave him some cold looks.

“Wait until you see the Christmas banquet,” Wilds told the freshman with a smile. “Now let’s find out where we’re at for the night.” She glanced around the court and Andrew could tell when she spotted the same thing he did – the line of orange chairs across from black ones at a row of tables, the orange and white banner next to the black and red one. Ah, how _clever_ of someone to put the Foxes and Ravens together. “Motherfucker,” Wilds muttered in a low and vicious voice as she headed toward where they’d sit for dinner at least.

Hmm, clearly she thought it was terribly clever, too. "Oh, how cliché. Maybe this will be fun after all,” Andrew murmured. “Come on, Kevin. Let's not keep them waiting." The party was off to a great start already, he thought as he ran his right forefinger along the inside of his left arm while Kevin stumbled along next to him.

The Ravens were already seated at their side of the tables, looking as if they were attending a funeral or something with their all black outfits. Hmm, Andrew could make that a reality, especially with one person in particular – Riko had risen from his chair at their approach as if to ‘greet’ the Foxes with that sickeningly false smile on his face which Andrew ached to carve off.

"Riko," Wilds said as she pulled out the chair directly opposite him, her smile more a baring of teeth than a friendly gesture. "Dan Wilds."

Riko offered her his hand like something out of one of those stupid historical movies Kevin liked to watch on weekends, as if a king deigning to grace some lowly peasant by allowing them to grovel and show some respect with a bit of slobber. Andrew watched on to see if Wilds would snap his hand off at the wrist, but was disappointed when she shook it instead (not the choice he would have gone with, obviously).

"I know who you are," Riko said with another false smile. "Who here doesn't? You're the woman who ‘captains’ a Class I team.” The amount of scorn he put into the one word was impressive, for a prick. “You've done admittedly well despite your disadvantages." While he spoke, the rest of the Ravens watched on while partaking in some sort of weird synchronized sitting session, their right elbows on the table and chins resting in their hands; Josten and Moreau were seated on either side of Riko’s empty chair, with Patel and Curtis next to Josten.

"What disadvantages?" Wilds affected a confused smile at that, but Andrew noticed the tension in her shoulders, and picked up on how Renee went still at the innuendo. It looked as if Riko’s opening salvo was against Wilds’ and her past… which was fine with him, as it kept him too busy to tear into Kevin. For the time being, at least.

"Do you really want me to start listing them?" Riko asked as he rested his hands on top of the table. "This is only a two-day event, _Hennessey_." There were some confused looks among the Ravens at that comment… and some knowing ones as well, especially among the upperclassmen. Josten, though, frowned a little as he glanced back and forth between Riko and Wilds, and Andrew caught the slight motion of his left arm when Patel leaned toward him, as if he had tapped her leg or something to remind her to be still.

"Careful, Riko,” Boyd warned in a low voice as he stepped forward to do his whole ‘don’t fuck with my girlfriend even if she used to be a stripper’ thing, only for Wilds to motion to him to stand down before she pulled out her seat. Boyd claimed the one next to her, Renee took the one on her other side (in front of Neil), so Andrew was quick to sit next to Renee with Kevin beside him and the rest of his ‘monsters’ extending down the table. Reynolds sat on the other side of Boyd, and she made sure to have Yee sit next to her in an apparent ‘fuck you’ to Gordon.

As Riko sat, the rest of the Ravens shifted back into their chairs as one, but Andrew was paying attention to Josten as he moved his right arm and caught a smudge of something pale on the cuff of his shirt, stark against the black material, along with something dark around his wrist. Josten caught his attention and gave him a cold look in return, those pale blue eyes narrowing when Andrew arched an eyebrow.

“So what, are you guys too stuck up to bring any dates?” Gordon asked as he rocked back in his chair with a sneer on his face. “Or no one can stand you enough to spend the weekend with you?”

“We’re merely unwilling to debase ourselves for the sake of company,” Riko told the striker with a barely disguised look of disgust. “Something I’m sure you wouldn’t understand, considering most of your associates are either fellow drug users or selling the things.”

Gordon’s face flushed a mottled red as the front legs of his chair slammed onto the floor. “Listen, you fuc-“

"Don't antagonize my team, Riko,” Wilds said in her ‘I’m the captain, don’t piss me off’ tone of voice as she cut across Gordon’s rant and several of the Ravens’ twitters. “This isn't the place for it."

"But I was being polite," Riko told her with a sliver of a smile. "You haven't seen me antagonistic yet." Andrew caught a slight twitch from Josten at that comment.

Before anything else could be said, Moreau leaned across the table. "Hello, Kevin." He didn’t sound very friendly or happy to see Kevin despite their past association, his smile a mere formality and his pale grey eyes as cold as Josten’s.

Ah, so much for leaving Kevin alone. Time to see how well the drunk could hold up, no?

Kevin was quiet for a few seconds, obviously unhappy at the attention. “Hello, Jean.” At the exchange, Josten stopped glaring at Andrew to turn his attention to Kevin instead while the two ‘old friends’ just gazed at each other – one with open animosity, the other with regret.

Bored with the growing tension, Andrew tapped his fingers against the table. “Jean,” he sang out as he leaned forward, tired of all the attention on the French bastard. “Hey Jean. Jean Valjean. Hey. Hey. Hello."  He continued until Moreau huffed in annoyance and finally looked his way, and was stupid enough to reach across the table to accept Andrew’s hand when he held it out despite Josten’s abrupt shake of his head in warning.

Andrew’s smile took on a predatory edge as he squeezed the backliner’s hand with all of his considerable strength, enough to make the Frenchman flinch at first and then scowl at him. “I’m Andrew, we haven’t met yet.”

"For which I am grateful," Moreau said with obvious loathing as he attempted to pull his hand away, but Andrew refused to let it go, especially with the way that Josten was glaring at him; oh, did someone not care for a little roughing up of their precious _partner_? "The Foxes as a whole are an embarrassment to Class I Exy, but your very existence is unforgivable,” Moreau declared, as if any of that bothered Andrew. “A goalkeeper who doesn't care if he is scored on has no right to touch a racquet. You should have stayed on the sidelines like the publicity stunt you are. You are more than worthless." Riko grinned during the tirade, as did most of the Ravens… but not Curtis, while Patel appeared thoughtful. Nor did Josten, who continued to glare figurative daggers at Andrew while glancing at Moreau now and then with open concern. For some reason, that only made Andrew squeeze all the harder.

 "That's a bit out of line, don't you think?" Renee said, as ever the good little Christian girl seeking to make peace.

The dark blonde young woman a couple of seats down from Moreau gave a loud snort. "If someone like that replaced you in goal, you must be downright terrible. I can't wait to watch one of your matches. I think it will be entertaining. We would make a drinking game of it but we don't want to die of alcohol poisoning,” she sneered.

"Yeah, that'd be a shame," Wilds shot back, her voice thick with sarcasm as she stared the bitch down, and all the while dear Kevin remained quiet at Andrew’s side. Kevin and Josten.

"This is the first time our teams have met," Renee tried yet again as she glanced back and forth between Andrew and Moreau. "Do we have to start off so poorly? This is supposed to be a chance for us to get to know each other better."

"Why not? You're poor at everything else you do," the one Raven continued (Andrew thought that she was one of the strikers, but had barely paid any attention to the videos Kevin always played or the playbooks he put together). "Is it honestly fun to be so terrible?" That provoked more sneers from the black, boring side of the table, and Andrew gave another painful squeeze when Moreau tried again to pull away.

"I imagine we have more fun than you do, yes," Renee said with a bright smile as if missing the whole point. As if she couldn’t slit about ten of their throats before anyone thought to do a thing to stop her.

 "Fun is for children," Moreau snapped, a couple of beads of sweat appearing on his forehead. "At this level it’s supposed to be about skill, and your team is sadly lacking. You have no right to play with us." He gave a disdainful sniff as his fingers twitched in Andrew’s grasp. “You have no right to play at all.”

"Then you shouldn't have transferred districts," Boyd argued. "No one wants you here."

"You took something that does not belong to you," another Raven said, some tall, dark-haired guy who probably was a backliner. "You brought this year's humiliation on yourselves."

"We didn't take anything," Wilds argued, her patience obviously wearing thing with the stupidity being bantered about (Andrew didn’t blame her on that one, he was oh so bored and growing hungry). “Kevin wants to be here.”

" _We_ don't even want him here," Gordon muttered as he tapped his butter knife onto the table as if it were a drumstick. "Take 'em with you if you want him that much." He ignored the dirty looks shot his way from Wilds, Reynolds and Yee.

"Speak for yourself, you jealous loser," Yee told him.

Josten leaned forward with both arms folded on top of the table; Andrew saw that yes, there indeed were marks peeking out past the right sleeve of his black shirt. An expression that some people might be kind enough to call a smile spread across the kid's face, but it wasn't that, not quite. It was a weapon, was something intended to hurt whomever it was directed at, to make them pause upon seeing it and fear what its bearer was about to do next. "Did you hear that, _Day_? Your own teammates don't want you. They're probably wondering when you're going to up and run on them, too. After all, that's all you're good for now, isn't it?"

Kevin flinched at that while Riko laughed, appearing very amused for some reason, and spoke in Japanese, something that made Kevin shake his head.

"No, I'm not... I'm not running," Kevin said in a quiet voice, speaking up at last. "I'm staying with the Foxes. This team needs a lot of work, a lot of commitment and-"

"You know _nothing_ about commitment," Josten snapped, his eyes bright with anger and cheeks flushed with the emotion. "All you know is what the Master has taught you, is Exy. You have no loyalty to anything other than that, it seems."

"Which is why you won't stay," Moreau told a shaken Kevin, sounding much too certain for Andrew's liking. "You should reconsider our offer before we rescind it for good, Kevin. Face the facts. Your pet," he directed a scathing curl of the lips Andrew's way as if there was any question whom that 'pet' remark referred to, "is and always will be dead weight. It's time to-"

Boring, oh so boring, Andrew thought as he squeezed yet again. "What?" he asked as he gave Kevin a wide-eyed look, so done with the pointless drama and about to wander off to the kitchen in search of food (or better yet, alcohol). "You have a pet and you never told us? Where do you keep it, Kevin?"

That earned him an annoyed look from Frenchie. "Don't interrupt me, _Doe_."

Oh, that hurt, that really... hmm, no. Someone had to try much, much harder, though it sounded as if Nicky, ever the bleeding heart, took the offense for Andrew, judging from the noises from the end of the table. "Oh, points for trying, but save your breath," he told the French bastard while several of the Ravens looked on in confusion. Not Josten though, wasn't that interesting? "Here's a tip for you, okay? You can't cut down someone who's already in the gutter. You just waste your time and mine."

"Yet you certainly seem to love dragging everyone down there with you," Josten remarked with that parody of smile still on his lips, directed right at Andrew. "What, can't be happy unless we're all in the same filth as you? Unless you fuck up everyone else's lives just like you fucked up your own?" That wasn't anger in those arresting blue eyes now, it was unadulterated hate and it was aimed right at Andrew. "Are you really protecting Kevin or just reveling in the fact that he's now as useless as you?"

Andrew may have been a little off on the whole 'rabbit' thing, it seemed. Someone had way too sharp teeth and a lust for blood to be an herbivore. Well, Josten wasn’t the only predator around, wasn’t-

" _Enough_!" Dan clapped her hands to get Andrew's and Josten's attention. "Break it up, this is a district event and we have twenty officials on hand. We're here to get to know each other, not to start fights. If you can't say anything nice," she gave Josten a pointed look for a moment, "don't say anything at all. That goes for both teams."

"I don't know, I believe Neil had asked a rather valid question there," Riko said with evident delight. "Is it _his_ fault if you don't like facing the truth?"

"Of course you're going to take his side when he's tearing into Kevin. Why aren't we surprised?" Reynolds gave the prick a sour look as she leaned back in her chair as if to put more room between her and the Ravens.

"You certainly didn't seem concerned when Kevin showed up on our- ow!" Nicky rubbed at his side, which it looked as if Aaron had smacked to keep him quiet about last December. As much as Andrew would love to air some dirty laundry and put Riko in his place, Wymack had told them not to bring up the truth about Kevin's hand.

Still, Riko seemed to have caught that slight reference. "We _have_ been respecting Kevin's need for distance, but now he's put himself back in the spotlight, as it were, with a subpar team and is embarrassing himself out on court each week. All because you are propping up his delusions that he can regain what he's lost."

" _Lost because of you_ ," Nicky muttered in German.

"I'm not being delusional," Kevin said as he sat hunched over in his chair, as he refused to look at Riko, his former partner.

Andrew regretted not grabbing the rest of that bottle of vodka, as this was beginning to grow excruciatingly tedious, the bits with Josten-not rabbit aside. "Yet you'll be oh so kind to take him off of our hands. Yes, paragons of virtue you are."

Riko and Moreau glared at him while Josten's smile grew even sharper and he propped his chin on his right hand (judging from Renee's stiff posture, she caught a glimpse of darkness ringing his wrist, too). "You mock us, but what exactly did you do last year? I mean, it's _such_ common practice to take on an untried, inexperienced assistant coach, _right_?” He paused for effect before moving in for the kill – oh, what wonderful genes there, yes? “So you had your reasons, and one of them had to be getting your hands on Ravens drills." When Wilds’ back became even straighter, Josten's pale, arresting eyes narrowed even more. "Even if he couldn't play again, you hoped to learn some of our tactics, to pick up a few tricks to drag your miserable team up from the bottom of this lousy district-"

"Hey!" Boyd looked ready to reach across the table to punch the kid, along with Gordon and Yee.

"Oh, I'm not saying anything that _Kevin_ hasn't said a dozen times over," Josten pointed out with too much satisfaction. "All those times he's gone on the record with how he's going to fix your _miserable_ team, going to make you _better_ because he's _Kevin Day_." The smile finally faded into something harsh and unforgiving as he stared at Kevin, as he let all the loathing and derision he clearly felt for the striker come to the surface. "But Day's _nothing_ but _damaged_ goods who runs at the first sign of trouble, whose loyalty is to a game and not to people." A severe laugh bubbled up as he gave a negligent flip of the hand to Andrew, who gazed at him in a blank manner during the admittedly impressive tear-down. "Who can't do _anything_ unless there's a drugged up, destructive piece of white trash at his side who doesn't give a shit if your team wins or loses. Just look at how he plays – or _doesn’t_ play. Even he thinks you’re worthless. It’s why he chose you, after all. Minyard knows a real team wouldn’t stand a fucked-up failure like him for long."

As the Foxes sat there in stunned silence while the Ravens smiled in delight, Andrew leaned over his place setting. "Careful there, _Nate_. Do you really want to get all personal?"

Josten didn't even flinch at the reference to his real name, although Patel gave her 'friend' an odd look. "I've said it before that there's nothing you can do to me, not now. You took your best shot already," Josten told Andrew with that look of utter abhorrence back on his face. "They call you a monster? You're just a pitiful wannabe trying to convince everyone that you're scary so they don't see how weak and filthy you really are, _Doe_ ," the bastard taunted him. "Once they realize that, no one will stay at your side no matter what you do."

Andrew was still for a moment as those words sunk in, as the drugs tried to restrain him, and when he went to move, to prove how wrong Josten was, Renee was there to hold him back long enough for Boyd to get out of his seat and join in.

"Allison, go get Coach! Oh my god, get Coach!"

All the while Andrew struggled to pull free, Josten gave him a pleased smirk and sipped his water as if he didn’t have a care in the world. While Riko laughed and Kevin trembled in fear.

*******

Neil watched the Foxes be escorted away by their furious coach, only for their seats to be taken by a bunch of confused coaches from other teams. It wasn’t long after that when the last of the district’s teams arrived and Blackwell’s coach gave a boring speech about the season that far, followed by the food finally being served. They were stuck with David Wymack of the Foxes sitting on the opposite side of the table glaring at a smirking Riko… but Tetsuji was there as well, so there wasn’t much that the ineffective coach could do.

Feeling the lack of Jean next to him, Neil poked at the baked chicken breast on his plate (what did it say about him that he actually missed cheap ramen right then?) and flinched when Marley nudged him in the side. “All I’ve seen you eat so far today has been a peanut butter granola bar and a smoothie, so have a few bites before the French terror gets on my case, all right?”

“You mean my case.”

“No, _mine_.” Marley sighed while Meg glanced over with a faint smile. “Somehow he’ll make it all my fault and I’ll be cleaning _this_ damn floor tonight.”

“Hmm, possible.” Neil had a piece of chicken, which was a little over-cooked but not too bad, and ignored the curious look which Madison’s head coach was giving them at the moment. “Wow, I’d forgotten what paprika tastes like.”

“Don’t remind me of that fact,” Marley moaned as she had a bite herself while Meg stifled a laugh. “I’m about to raid the damn kitchen for it and smuggle some into the Nest.”

“Ooh, illegal contraband,” Meg murmured, while on the other side of her, Lau chuckled. “You crazy.”

“Hey, no one ever failed a drug test over _paprika_ ,” Marley snapped. “I stand by my vices.” She had another piece while she eyed Neil. “You gonna tell us what that all was about?” she asked him in a quiet voice. “I know what… well, we were told what to do, earlier,” she said in reference to the orders given them on the bus, “but you seemed a bit overzealous there at the end.”

Neil had a bite of the rice pilaf as he debated what to say. “Because they deserved it,” he insisted. Everything he’d said had been the truth (for once), and for a reason; he could barely sit still on the uncomfortable chair, especially after riding in the bus for a good bit of the day, all because of Day and Minyard. Yet those two had sat across the table with the intentions of enjoying themselves that night? Day thought he could escape Riko unscathed? Minyard had attempted to hurt Jean? _No._

Marley studied him for a couple of seconds before she nodded. “All right then, they deserve it. That blond guy gave me the creeps, anyway.” She shuddered a little before having another bite of chicken.

“That was Andrew Minyard, right? Renee says he’s nice,” Meg argued as she stabbed at her salad.

“You think _everyone_ is nice,” Marley huffed. “And even I’ve heard stories about Minyard.” Mention of that name made Wymack glance their way, but Josten gave the man a cold smile until he looked aside. “He’s a psycho.”

“You don’t even know him.” Meg’s brows were drawn together as she stared at the table. “He might-“

“He put four people in the hospital, it’s why he’s on mood-altering drugs,” Neil informed her. “And he was in juvie _before_ that. Also, our introduction to each other? Was him clotheslining me with my own damn racquet then taunting me about it,” he ground out through gritted teeth as he thought about how close he’d been to getting out of that locker room before Kevin saw him, how he would have had another day or two head’s start on Moriyamas’ people. He could have made it to Mexico, then, even with the forum post.

Meg looked up to gape at him, her poor salad forgotten, and Marley gave him another level look as if she knew there was more to the story than he was saying. “So maybe I don’t know him real well,” knew Minyard personally, but he knew him well enough to want him far away and hurting, “but I can honestly say that he deserved everything he got tonight and more.”

The two of them were quiet while Meg took a sip of water and Marley glanced over to where the Foxes had gone. “Okay, so he’s off my dance card for the night.”

That made Meg laugh and Neil sigh before he choked down another piece of chicken then some potatoes. “What?” Marley winked at him while she speared a glazed carrot. “I have a thing for tormenting short men out on the dance floor. It’s so amusing when they try to lead and they barely come up to my nose, and they get all flustered trying not to stare at my chest.”

“What chest?” Neil drawled; Marley was tall and slender, so while the jab wasn’t entirely accurate… well, she wasn’t falling out of her dress, either.

“Ha, ha.” Marley threw a piece of her roll at him while Meg stifled her laughs behind her napkin. “You’re off the dance card, too, Shorty.”

“Somehow I’ll find the will to live on. And what’s a dance card?”

Marley’s expression grew wistful as she seemed lost in thought for a moment. “My mom watched all these old movies to help her with her English, she said the grammar was better in them than the modern ones. Hers was really good by the time I came around, but she loved them so we’d watch them together.”

Meg nodded as she ran her fingers up and down the glass of water. “My mom and I always watch the romantic ones together. It doesn’t matter how sappy or ridiculous they are, she loves the happy endings and I do, too. It’s our ‘girl time’ on Sundays.” Her smile faltered as she glanced down the table of Ravens. “Or it was.”

Neil didn’t have anything to say – or at least, anything he _could_ say. What, tell them that he and his mother never had the time to watch movies because at first his father had forbidden them in Baltimore? That they hadn’t been able to go to movie theaters and Neil (Nathaniel) hadn’t been allowed to watch the television in that awful house? Then they’d been too busy running for their lives the following years?

There had been a time or two when they’d slipped into a cinema to throw someone off their trail, but they’d either left immediately, or it had been some cheap all night theater showing art films bordering on porn, and Neil hadn’t paid any attention to what was on the screen since he was too busy making sure that no one was about to slit his or his mother’s throat.

Did he tell them that the only things he’d shared with his mother was the knowledge of what it was like to be abused and hated by someone who was supposed to love and protect you? That she’d taught him to endure the pain, to push aside anything that wouldn’t enable him to run a little further, to keep on his feet a little longer? That and how to lie?

That he’d let her down in the end, but she’d given him everything he needed to survive in the Nest and as a Raven, so that was all that mattered?

Yet before he could say anything, Marley hummed a little as she glanced around once more. “So, the great paprika raid. Where do you think the kitchens are here?”

Meg brightened up at that before her face contorted in what Neil realized was probably meant to be a sneaky expression. Meg… Meg wasn’t meant to be _sneaky_ (had no one taught this child a valid life skill at _all_?). “We could question one of the Blackwell players, maybe make a comment about how our kitchen is-“

Yep, no valid skills whatsoever, Neil thought with growing despair. “Easiest way is to bribe the wait staff,” he told the hopeless case. “It’s _paprika_ , give them a ten and a big smile, say it’s for some stupid dare and they’ll think nothing of it. Second easiest way is to follow one of them back as they clear the tables, pretend you’re lost and looking for the bathrooms or something, and wait for them to take a break before sneaking in to grab it yourself. But best to go with the first option.”

“Huh.” Marley thought about that as she looked over at Tetsuji, who was busy talking to the Breckenridge coach, his expression grim as always. “Since we’re not supposed to go to the grocery store by ourselves… good thing I always come prepared.” She reached down to remove her right shoe; Neil glanced down to see that she’d stuck some folded cash and a credit card into the bottom of the high heel despite it having to be a little uncomfortable since none of the women Ravens were allowed to carry a purse. “Dad told Maddy and me to never go anywhere without having the means to get ourselves home somehow.”

It must be nice, to have parents who clearly cared for you and watched over you the way that Marley’s parents did for her and her siblings. Neil felt a pang of jealousy over that fact, but it wasn’t Marley’s fault that her parents had done everything they could to ensure that she grew up safe and sound.

They’d let her become a Raven, after all. They hadn’t known enough to prevent _that_ , though he suspected that it had been Marley winning out in the end over whatever reservations they might have had.

“Well then, it looks like operation paprika is on,” he said as he leaned back in his chair while doing his best not to wince. “You rebel, you.”

“Hmm, wonder if they have any garam masala back there, I’ll throw in another ten,” Marley mused. “Or a decent chili powder.”

“I’d maim for a nice bar of chocolate.” When Neil and Marley stared at Meg in surprise, she shrugged. “What? I’m serious, it’s been so long since I’ve had any sweets.” She perked up and looked around. “Do you think they’ll serve us any desserts?”

“Good luck getting it past you know who.” Marley gave a pointed look over at Riko, who was busy talking to a couple of coaches, and then Tetsuji. While she did that, Neil noticed that Jean seemed to be doing all right and felt some relief.

“Right.” Meg wilted a little at that. “Damn.”

Marley tried to distract her partner by talking about which server to approach for ‘operation paprika’, while Neil played with his food, his appetite gone for the night. Soon enough the plates would be cleared and the teams would be encouraged to mingle with each other… and Riko’s next set of instructions would have to be obeyed.

Neil had no intentions of letting the prick down, either. It wasn’t as if he had any problem with tearing into Day and Minyard, not after what they’d done to him, after what they’d cost him. But after last night, after suffering through Federov and Bautista yet again, after seeing the anguish and guilt on Jean’s face and hearing his partner’s nightmares… no, Neil wasn’t giving Riko any reasons to set the upperclassmen on him or Jean again.

If someone had to bear the brunt of Riko’s madness, let it be the Foxes.

*******

Andrew watched as the staff broke down the tables where people had been sitting at minutes before so they could rearrange the court into a more ‘social’ setting, the anger in his head, his veins, battling it out with the pill he’d taken before dinner. He still wanted to grab Riko by the throat and choke the life out of the bastard, to grab a certain not-rabbit (a liar, _oh_ what a _liar_ ) by the shoulders and _shake_ until the truth came out, until all those layers and masks fell away to reveal the true Neil Josten (Nathaniel Wesninski). Except now all of that was muffled by the damn annoying buzz of manic energy, of not-joy, and it took everything he had to stand still.

“Are you all right?” Renee asked in a quiet voice.

He scoffed at that. “What do you think?”

She didn’t answer right away. “That Neil has something against you and Kevin. Those words were spoken with a deliberate intent to hurt, and Riko was very happy with the results.”

“Josten’s a smart-mouthed little shit who’s going to regret speaking one of these days,” Andrew promised. “One day very soon, if he’s not careful.”

Renee sighed at that and didn’t say anything else, probably because Wymack chose then to come over and give the ten of them (plus two useless souls) a stern look. "Go forth," he said while motioning to the court with its dance area and even volleyball net. "Have fun. Or don't. I don't care. Just don’t start a fight, you hear me?” That last bit seemed directed at Andrew, how offensive.

The others didn’t need to be told twice, especially those who had a date – Wilds and Boyd, Nicky and the arts major, Aaron and the soon to be broken Vixen. Gordon tried to get Reynolds to go with him but she continued to ignore him, so he stomped off on his own, while Yee hung around Kevin. Renee gave Andrew one last, lingering look before going over to Reynolds and walking off with the dealer.

Wymack continued to give Andrew a narrow look. “You miss that one and need to hear it again?”

"Oh, Coach,” Andrew drawled while holding his hands up as if in surrender while he shrugged. "You can't even imagine how much fun we’re having right now. It's overwhelming. Give us a minute to catch our breaths before our hearts explode in our chest." Yee stared at him as if he was crazy while Kevin pushed away from the wall to come over, still a little unsteady on his feet from the second round of vodka he’d imbibed after being torn into by Riko and Josten.

"You have thirty seconds,” Wymack barked, and it only took about twenty before Kevin headed off into the crowd with Andrew and Yee following behind him.

Andrew regretted not having hit Abby up for some alcohol, too, as he was stuck tagging along with the two Exy junkies as Kevin made the rounds with the various other teams (all but the Ravens, go figure). While Kevin wasn’t the most social of people and he wasn’t in his kiss-ass media persona that night (running into the person who had abused him in one form or another for several years tended to do that to a soul), he still was Kayleigh Day’s son and a renowned striker so the other Exy players were eager to speak to him… at least as first. For once Kevin was being mostly bearable and didn’t talk down to the other people, but he’d still spent most of his life at Edgar Allan, in the cult that was the Nest, and didn’t have much to talk about that wasn’t Exy. He didn’t pull his punches when it came to the sport and one’s playing ability.

Yee, on the other hand, was an insufferable puppy trying his best to be liked now that he was surrounded by a bunch of other Exy players, so it was sickening to watch, all in all. A couple of players attempted to speak to Andrew with hands extended, but all he did was give them one of his more manic smiles and they got the hint to leave him alone.

They spent most of the night like that, and Andrew’s fingers were tapping against his bands with the need for nicotine when there was a buzz against his right leg from his phone going off. Since Nicky and Aaron were busy dancing and Bee had mentioned spending a quiet weekend at home catching up on some reading related to work, he couldn’t think of anyone who would be texting him. He pulled out his phone to find a message from Renee, telling him to look toward the volleyball court.

Over by the makeshift area where some idiots were jumping about and hitting a ball, Andrew caught sight of Renee and Reynolds standing off to the side… and a flock of Ravens cutting their way through the crowded court floor. It was clear that Renee and Reynolds were watching over the other team, who advanced in a ‘v’ formation as if their namesakes with Riko in the lead. It was rather evident where he was headed, too, especially with that predatory smile on his face.

"Kevin, look,” Andrew called out as his fingers clenched against his armbands for a moment. “We have company."

Kevin appeared annoyed at being interrupted, until he caught sight of his old team approaching. "Excuse me," he told the Breckenridge striker he’d been talking to as he stepped closer to Andrew, while Yee hurried over as well.

“Who’s the one girl?” Yee asked as he fiddled with the front of his dark blue dress shirt as if to smooth it out. “The one with the long hair pulled back?”

Andrew gave him a flat look for the question. “Not now.” Riko and company were coming in fast, only for the bastard to stop about a dozen feet away while the rest of his lackeys continued forward until they cut off Andrew, Kevin and Yee. Impressive flanking maneuver, and yet another sign that Riko had planned out everything beforehand.

People who thought they were so clever usually ended all fucked up in the end, in Andrew’s experience. He tended to be the one who fucked them up.

When Riko’s grin strengthened and he went to step forward, that whole ‘fucked up’ thing began by Boyd slipping in between the Ravens with a sharp smile of his own on his face, Wilds right behind him. Andrew assumed that Renee or Reynolds had alerted the two to what was going on with the dirty birds.

"Matt Boyd, starting backliner for the Foxes,” Boyd announced as if they didn’t know who he was. “I'm the one who's going to be wrecking your goals this October. Nice to meet you." He held out his hand in a passing wave but didn't look surprised when no one took it. "Guess the pleasure's all mine."

"We're sure it is," the one bitch Raven striker said with a curl of her red lips, "seeing how you're dating a prostitute."

"Stripper," Wilds corrected as she stepped forward and wrapped an arm around Boyd's waist with her high heels dangling from her right hand. "Hopefully you're smart enough to distinguish between the two professions. If you're not, I have serious concerns about your academic standings,” she said in a mocking manner while Boyd beamed down at her as if proud.

"Hennessey, right?" one of the men strikers said. "Such a good name for such a fierce spirit." Judging from the way he was ogling Wilds’ chest just then, it wasn’t her ‘spirit’ he was interested in. What _Andrew_ found interesting, though, was that Josten hadn’t joined in to tearing into Wilds and was giving his fellow strikers a blank look as if disapproving of what they were doing. At his side, Patel _definitely_ wasn’t happy with all of the negative talk, but judging from Josten’s firm hold on her right wrist, she was refraining from saying anything.

"We were a little disappointed you didn't sign up as part of the entertainment tonight," one of the other young men said with a leer and a slow gaze along Wilds’ body. "We were looking forward to the show."

Through it all, Wilds put up with it even when it looked as if Boyd was ready to start that fight which Wymack had told them all to avoid. She held on to her boyfriend to keep him from charging into the Ravens (and starting something which Andrew was certain that the Ravens would finish – Renee was right in that Riko seemed determined to provoke something, and the bastard clearly had the ERC on his side). Instead, Wilds gave Boyd a quick pat to make him back off a little as she smiled at the leering Raven prick while she stepped forward.

The Raven grinned in triumph at Boyd when Wilds closed in and then bent down to sniff at her neck as if some sort of dog… and then crumpled with a pathetic little whine when Wilds brought her heels up hard into his crotch. Patel grinned in delight and even Josten arched an eyebrow at that, the expression quickly smoothed out as he tugged on the girl’s arm to make her school her emotions as well, but Andrew caught it if no one else did as the rest of the Ravens winced if not outright cringed and looked away from their teammate bent over in agony.

"Yeah, _Hennessey_ ," Wilds declared with evident satisfaction. "Treats you right if you're willing to pay and will fuck you over the morning after if you're not nice enough to her. Sorry, but this bottle's got a name on it. Hope you feel that one for a while, you lowlife asshole,” she told everyone as she went back over to a glaring Boyd’s side.

It appeared as if a few Ravens had something they wanted to say right then, but Tetsuji Moriyama decided to join in the fun at last. “Kevin Day.” He came to stand beside a now glowering Riko’s side, his face impassive, grey-streaked black hair slicked back and dressed all in black as well, an inch or two taller than his nephew and still in good shape despite having to be in his fifties. He might not seem physically imposing, but Kevin was trembling beside Andrew once more, his attention focused on his former coach/abuser.

“Master, it’s been a while.” The fear Kevin felt upon seeing the old man made his voice hitch.

With one wave of Tetsuji Moriyama’s hand, the Ravens moved to cut off Andrew and Kevin from the rest of the Ravens. Andrew gave Josten a cold look when the not-rabbit came to stand near him, and then noticed that Kevin, the deserter, had gone over to Tetsuji. The old man held out his right hand, and after only a moment’s hesitation, Kevin gave over his left hand.

Tetsuji began to inspect it as if to check out the scars, his face as expressionless as before. When Andrew went to go to Kevin’s side, he found himself blocked by Josten and Moreau.

“The Master wishes to speak to Day alone,” Josten told him with that mockery of a smile back on his face, his bangs now falling onto his forehead.

“I don’t care,” Andrew answered with a sharp grin of his own. “Get out of my way.”

“Not happening,” Josten said as he didn’t move, as Moreau seemed to brace himself at Josten’s side.

“Don’t you remember how this went last time?” Andrew asked as the fingers of his right hand brushed against his left armband, hidden beneath the sleeve of his black dress shirt. As those fingers slipped beneath the loose cuff and began to slide a knife free.

“I remember how you didn’t get past me, yes.” Josten smiled for a moment longer before the expression was replaced by something much too old for someone supposedly a year younger than Andrew. “Go away. You’ll get Day back when the Master and Riko are done with him, not before.”

“But I want him back _now_ ,” Andrew said with a wide grin as his fingers kept twitching the slightest bit, his eyes locked on icy blue.

“Oh, _Doe_ , I would think that you’re used to not getting what you want by now,” Josten taunted as Patel came over to flank his other side, her expression just as impassive as Moreau’s. “Let me tell you a secret,” he said in a mock whisper as he leaned forward a bit, his eyes still locked on Andrew’s and smile even sharper as if he reveled in what he was about to say. “If you have to pretend you’re friends with someone by being their guard dog? That’s not friendship, that’s being an _employee_. You’re nothing but a pitiful _little_ lackey, someone else added to the long list of victims being used by Day. I’d say ‘welcome to the club’ but you joined willingly, didn’t you?”

Andrew refused to listen to the words he knew were meant to hurt him, to make him doubt Kevin, to hit on fears he’d long since buried as he slid the knife free and lunged forward, as something in French was shouted and Patel reached for Josten, but all the lying bastard did was laugh as the knife was pressed to his throat once more – as a pinprick jabbed Andrew in the left thigh perilously close to his crotch and made him still.

“Femoral artery,” Josten told him without fear for the knife at his throat, the hand clutching at the front of his expensive shirt. “Have you ever seen anyone bleed out when it’s severed?” From the darkness in those pale eyes, the steadiness of the hand holding the blade and what he was leaving unsaid… Josten had. _Wesninski_ had. “It’s quick, at least. So easy for you to fuck up a neck slice.” He tilted his head a little into Andrew’s knife, not enough to cause any bleeding but to prove that he was just as fearless as last time. “Or you can twitch a little too much, piss me off and I can shift it over a bit. How do you feel about being an Annie, hmm?” The smile he gave Andrew just then was something so _feral_ , so full of darkness, that Andrew knew all of the masks were gone at last.

Did Riko know what he’d put that tattoo on? What he kept caged in the Nest?

“I’ll take you with me,” Andrew promised, certain that he wouldn’t go down alone.

“Do you think I care?” Josten shot back without blinking, without moving away from Andrew’s knife or his own blade from Andrew’s body.

“God, Neil, what are you doing?” Patel asked in a hoarse voice, her eyes wide with shock. “Just… stop it, please! Just-“ Moreau reached over to give her shoulder a quick squeeze to silence her protests.

Andrew twitched at that _one_ word and had to force himself still when he felt the blade sink a little deeper. “Your girlfriend’s upset, look what you did.”

Josten’s smile didn’t falter at all. “She’s not my girlfriend, and I’d say it’s what _you_ did.” That close to each other, Andrew noticed something wrong with the not-rabbit’s face, a faint dark blur on his right cheek.

“There you go with that again,” Andrew sighed as he pushed the observation away for the time being. “So what, Kevin and I tried to recruit you, big deal. We-“

“Just because I wouldn’t sign with you, you had to fuck everything up for me, didn’t you?” Josten put a little more pressure behind the knife for a moment, enough for Andrew to feel a drop or two of blood run down his inner left thigh. If he wasn’t so distracted by the words Josten was saying, by the arresting face so close to his own, he would have retaliated, but nothing made sense just then. “You made it clear in Arizona what you thought about me, so of course I wasn’t surprised to find out that you were behind the forum post. Just because your life is fucked up, you had to go ruin mine?” He spat out something vicious in French which made Moreau look at him in concern.

Josten thought that _Andrew_ had made the forum post? The one that Gordon had put up? Yet before Andrew could say anything (did he even want to say anything?), Kevin stumbled toward them, his face pale and left hand held against his chest. That seemed to be the signal that Moreau had been waiting for since he reached over to place his hand on Josten’s right shoulder, which made the bastard step back even if Andrew’s knife left a shallow scratch along his throat.

Moreau was quick to pull Josten against him while Patel stood in front of them as if she could shield the two from Andrew, a virulent glare directed his way as he wiped his knife clean on his pants. “You’re a fucking asshole,” she spat as she clenched her hands into fists. “ _You’re_ the one who did that? What, do you kick puppies in your spare time? Beat up little kids for fun?”

“Amusing,” he told her before checking that the damage was only emotion in Kevin’s case – same old, same old. “We’re done here, I’ve had my limit of idiots for the night.”

“Go ahead and run away, you stunted monkey-fucker!”

Andrew paused to frown at the girl, who continued to glare at him while even Moreau and Josten seemed surprised by her outburst. All right, that was actually a new one for him, but as delightful as trading insults and delusions could be, along with the possibility of castration (it had been such an _interesting_ night all around), time to leave the party.

He and Kevin turned around to find that the wall of Ravens were breaking up, now that it seemed that Tetsuji and Riko had done what they’d set out to do (probably beat Kevin over the head with the fact that he’d never be what he once was, that he had no future without the Ravens and so should return to Edgar Allan, blah blah blah. Actually, being called a ‘stunted monkey-fucker’ was probably going to be the highlight of Andrew’s night).

Judging from the sound of footsteps behind them, it wasn’t as easy as that; Andrew glanced over his shoulder and tightened his grip on the knife half-tucked up his right sleeve to find that Josten wasn’t so much as bearing down on him and Kevin as headed past them, with Moreau and the poetic Patel right on his heels. Looking forward, he quickly surmised it was due to the ‘long-haired girl’ currently sandwiched between Gordon and Yee.

“-talk to her like that,” Yee yelled at Gordon, who was leaning a little too close to the Raven – Curtis, Andrew recognized from the Instagram posts, and unhappy with the attention. “Don’t listen to him,” Yee assured the rookie dealer in a rush, “he’s a bit of an asshole.”

“Fuck you,” Gordon snapped as he reached out to put his hand on Curtis’ shoulder. “Look here, if-“

Josten all but barreled into Gordon with that evil smile back on his face. “Don’t you dare touch her,” he said in a seemingly civil tone of voice as he twisted back Gordon’s right hand. “I will break your arm if you try that again.”

“Neil, it’s okay, they were just… uhm… it’s okay,” Curtis said, her voice wobbly as she hurried over to Patel’s side.

“No, we saw enough,” Patel told her as she wrapped her arm around her partner’s shoulders. “Let him break the bastard’s arm.” And Andrew had thought that the girl had sounded mean while swearing at _him_.

“Let me go you- argh!” Despite having about a foot on Josten, Gordon crumpled in half at the savage hold on his right arm. “Dammit!”

“I told you to leave her alone!” Yee sounded smug at the moment and uncaring over the fact that Gordon might end up crippled. “This is what you get for being an asshole.”

“I wu-will… kick ass,” Gordon ground out while Josten twisted his arm some more.

“Hmm, no.” Josten twisted again and made Gordon cry out in pain; Wilds approached and made to intervene, until Renee grabbed her hand and shook her head, saving Andrew the aggravation of stepping in. As far as he was concerned, Gordon deserved what he got.

“Neil, please don’t,” Curtis called out. Josten seemed to ignore her and the mix of Foxes and Ravens gathered around them until Moreau pressed against his back and whispered something into his ear.

“I see you within five feet of her again and you’ll lose the arm,” Josten swore as he let go of Gordon’s wrist, the darkness and feral bit back in his voice. Gordon tried to punch him when he straightened up, but the little bastard was too quick and was well out of harm’s way already, his gait hitching for a step or two, while Moreau shoved Gordon off-balance with a loud scoff.

Wilds hurried to get in the asshole striker’s face as the Ravens walked away, back toward Tetsuji and Riko. “What the hell was that about? Seth?” When all he did was give her a dirty look and jerk away, she let out an angry breath and turned toward Yee. “Well?”

Yee shot a disgruntled look toward Gordon, along with the finger. “I decided to talk to the girl – Meg, her name’s Meg, and she’s nice.” The smile on Yee’s face right then was so ridiculous that Andrew felt the urge to smack it off.

“I know her name’s Meg, she’s a freshman. Why did Neil try to rip off Seth’s arm?” Wilds gritted out.

“Yeah, Seth.” Yee took to glaring at the striker. “We were talking, just getting to know each other a little and _Seth_ had to come over and be an asshole. That’s probably what set off Meg’s friends.”

Wilds didn’t appear pleased to hear that, and neither did Reynolds, who was standing next to Renee. “Whatever. Look, we’re done here, right?” Wilds glanced around to find Kevin nodding frantically, Yee reluctantly, Renee and Reynolds in agreement and Gordon ignoring everyone. “Kenny, help Matt go find Aaron and Nicky, all right? Coach should be saying our goodbyes and Abby getting the bus for us.”

“Okay.” Yee looked a bit upset, probably over the whole ‘Meg’ thing, but he’d better get used to it – the girl was a Raven and way out of his league. She was a _Raven_.

Andrew forgot about the rookie to nudge Kevin in the side as they went across the court toward the away locker room where they’d left their belongings. “What did Tetsuji want?”

Kevin shook his head as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants. “To tell me that they’re holding a place for me at Edgar Allan, but it won’t be there forever. That if I come back now, they’ll let me practice and perhaps in time I can work my way back on the team, though I’ll never part of the Perfect Court again.” He shook his head again. “It was around then that Wymack showed up.”

Good to know that their coach wasn’t entirely useless.

“What about you? What did Na- ah, Neil want?”

Andrew was quiet for a few seconds as he slid his knife back into its place in his armband. “Mostly to keep me from interrupting your little reunion, but I think I know why he doesn’t like me so much now.” All because of Gordon – Josten should have broken the striker’s arm when he had the chance.

“Well, we stumble across him and soon after that, he ends up at Edgar Allan,” Kevin reminded him. “It’s understandable.”

But it was more definite than that, and Andrew had a feeling he had a certain Raven to blame for the misunderstanding. Someone all too willing to ensure that Josten put that razor sharp tongue of his to brutal use to tear into Kevin and hold Andrew at bay while Riko did his best to drag Kevin back to Edgar Allan.

Andrew had been wrong about Josten being a rabbit, which meant that he needed to figure out the kid before their next run-in because it was evident that Riko had created a weapon primed right at Andrew’s throat (well, more or less).

It wasn’t until about an hour or so on the bus back to Palmetto that he figured out what had bothered him about those dark marks on Josten – the bruises. The ones covered up with makeup being rubbed away, the mark on his cheek and what were fingermarks on his wrist. Marks which, from Andrew’s experience, were left by someone holding on to a wrist with excessive force to restrain.

He remembered that hitching gait.

He remembered the fury in Josten’s voice as he told Gordon never to come near Curtis again.

For a moment it felt as if the drugs had been scrubbed clean from Andrew’s veins, he was so numb, and then there was a rush of overwhelming anger. His hands clenched into fists as he told himself he was being ridiculous, that he was allowing his own past to influence a few random facts about someone he barely knew, whom he was borderline obsessing over, that he was being an idiot.

It was all supposition. Kevin told stories about abuse at the Nest, about Riko beating up Moreau and the harsh training regimen all the Ravens went through, but that was it. Andrew was overthinking things.

He would talk to Renee, see what the rookie Ravens had to say after the weekend, would pay more attention to things.

Maybe he’d give that new number on his phone a call, too.

*******

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *******  
> Yeah. That went well, didn't it? Makes one oh so eager for the winter banquet *winces*
> 
> No hate here for Andrew and Kevin, just remember that Neil is hurting oh so much, and he believes that Kevin and Andrew are responsible for a good bit of that hurt. He can't direct anything at Riko, but he can at them. And he does. Oh how he does.
> 
> One more chapter of Ravens Partner (if it cooperates) and then another Heartlines. 
> 
> As always, the comments and kudos are greatly appreciated.  
> *******


	6. Betray and Degrade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *******  
> Okay, I feel a little bad with this chapter. Let's just say that certain things aren't going to continue in each one (or for the fic on the whole), but it sets up certain things and with the characters... so just know that it's not going to be all the time and we're actually moving to get to where... you'll see.
> 
> So, previous warnings for triggers stand.
> 
> Hmm, and someone appears at last.  
> *******

*******

Andrew and Renee went up to the roof after their sparring session on Sunday; Renee had won, since Andrew’s concentration was a little ‘off’, to say the least. They’d gotten back to campus rather late the night before (or early in the morning, depending on how one wanted to look at it), and after waking up a couple of hours ago, he had to put up with Kevin in full coward mode.

He knew the drill by then, knew Kevin would spend the day trembling in fear of all things Moriyama, would use his beloved alcohol as a crutch… and come that night all it would take was being back on the Exy court to remind him of what he was fighting for, of all the reasons he had to stay the fuck away from Edgar Allan and the psychopaths running the Nest. Then Andrew and the rest of the Foxes would suffer as the Exy junkie attempted to beat them into some sort of shape that could put up a fight when the Ravens showed up in a few weeks for their scheduled game.

Andrew had some preparations of his own to do before then.

“Patel and Curtis,” he said as he took his usual position on the low wall along the edge of the roof, the familiar fear running through him a welcome relief as always. “An update.”

Renee sighed as she sat down out of arm’s reach and grabbed her phone out of her cloth bag. “They should have left the banquet by now.” She tapped on the phone and shook her head. “Meg’s responded a few times, mostly to assure Dan and me that she’s all right and to apologize for last night as if it was her fault.” For a moment there was a glimpse of ‘Natalie’ before Renee let out a slow breath. “Dan told her that Seth was out of line and she’s not angry with Neil for stepping in like that, even if his reaction was a little extreme.”

“Not if it teaches Gordon to keep his hands to himself,” Andrew said before lighting a cigarette, refusing to let old memories surface while he felt the ache of a good fight, while he had knives strapped to his arms and was in a spot where he could see all around him.

Renee was quiet for a couple of seconds as if considering that remark. “I couldn’t allow Neil to go through with it since Seth is one of mine… but yes, he does need to learn that lesson,” she agreed. “Allison’s very upset with him right now. They’ve been arguing over several things, about his attitude toward the team, his plans for the future, how he’s treating Kenny… and I’m sure part of last night was a mix of Kenny’s interest in Meg and Seth trying to get Allison’s attention. But he never should have tried to use someone like that.” The darkness from before returned for a moment.

“It looks like Josten _is_ protecting the girls.” Andrew had noticed that none of the Ravens had reacted to the threat against Gordon, had seemed at all surprised by Josten’s actions. There had been one or two bitter expressions, but on the whole, they’d calmly watched on the entire time. There was also the way Josten had stepped in with Patel to keep her from drawing Riko’s attention, from reacting in a negative (for a Raven) fashion.

“Yes. As much as Dan’s upset with Neil for some of the things he’s said, she doesn’t think he’s a lost cause since he’s looking out for them. That and Meg’s defending him,” Renee said.

“And Patel?” That one had more of a backbone, it seemed. At least until Riko broke it.

Renee shrugged as she looked down at her phone. “She’s being a bit quiet. We get the impression that she’s closer to Neil than Meg is and obviously if he’s not happy with the Foxes then she isn’t. But she did let us know that she’s all right and she told off Dan when she mentioned Neil’s behavior.” She smiled at that and glanced up at Andrew. “I think Dan’s torn between being proud of her spirit and being offended.”

“I don’t think Patel gives a shit either way.” Andrew didn’t, either. Now to bring up what he did have a slight interest in. “You caught them, didn’t you? The marks on Josten.”

The smile was wiped away as Renee lowered the phone to her lap. “The bruises which Neil was trying to hide? Yes, I did.” She was quiet for a moment as she tugged on her hair. “Kevin’s told us about the physical and emotional abuse that goes on at the Nest.”

Andrew gave her a cold smile at that; Kevin had described what had happened at the Nest, the actual abuse was inferred by the descriptions but easy to figure out, outside of the whole ‘Riko broke by hand’. “Oh, I can’t wait to hear your explanation for those bruises. Go ahead, _enlighten_ me.”

Renee gave him a discontented look at that. “We don’t know for certain what caused them, do we?”

“Tell me what you think,” Andrew enunciated as he turned around to better face her, as he lit a cigarette to give his hands something to do. Something _safe_ to do.

She remained quiet until he took his first drag and let out a slow plume of smoke. “The bruises were thick and dark on his wrist, so they were probably left by someone with strong fingers and large hands.” She held up her own right hand, the fingers slender and long, much finer than Andrew’s own. “They were probably left by another man holding on to him. If it were the gang….” She was quiet again as she bowed her head, then a roughness crept into her voice. “We were held like that if we fought during our initiation or any punishments.”

“And does Josten strike you as someone who would resist?” Andrew asked as he thought about all those virulent emotions displayed the night before, the hate and the fury in those pale blue eyes – at least when they weren’t bereft of everything with a deadness Andrew had seen staring back at him in the mirror.

“Yes,” Renee answered, her voice still a little rough. “He strikes me as someone who will strive to lash out one way or another even as he bleeds out from the killing blow. There’s a fire to him, an unwillingness to bend too far.” She finally looked at Andrew, her expression blank. “I told you that he wasn’t a rabbit.”

“Smugness doesn’t become you,” Andrew told her in a flat voice.

“It’s not often that you’re wrong, I’m sure it’s a bit confusing for you,” Renee said with a slight smile twitching on her bruised lips. “Consider it an opportunity for growth.”

“And consider me pushing you off this roof as an opportunity for you to learn how to fly,” Andrew told her with a displeased look. She cocked her head to the side as she grasped at the useless cross hung around her neck, but didn’t say anything.

They were quiet while he finished his cigarette, and then she spoke up. “What are you going to do? About Neil?”

“Figure out a way to neutralize the threat that Riko is turning him into,” Andrew told her as he debated another smoke before he decided against it. When she continued to look at him, he frowned, the expression slight but there. “You expect something else?”

“He’s being abused, being-“

“He signed a contract with the Ravens and shows no signs of wanting to leave,” Andrew told her as he stood up and began to walk away. Renee had a better grasp of what was going on at Edgar Allan than the rest of the Foxes, but she didn’t know everything and that wasn’t going to change anytime soon; she didn’t know about the Moriyamas owning Moreau and now Josten/Wesninski, she didn’t know about Nathan ‘the Butcher of Baltimore’ Wesninski. She didn’t know that Neil was tied to Edgar Allan in so many ways, and Andrew wasn’t going to put the people he was responsible for at risk because of one interesting little not-rabbit no matter how many bruises he sported and how blue his eyes. “I’ve reached my limit of rescued Ravens, so if you want to take in another wayward little bird, it’s all on you.”

“Even if someone’s sexually abusing him? You can turn your back on that, Andrew?” Renee called out with the roughness back in her voice. “I hadn’t expected that from you.”

Andrew stilled with his hands clutched into fists, with images of Cass in his mind and Drake’s detested voice in his ears for a moment, with his heart thundering against his ribs and a manic grin tugging at his lips. “Don’t go there, Christian girl, or you really might learn to fly like one of your precious angels.”

“You’d never hurt me like that, especially for speaking the truth,” Renee said with utter conviction. “Now tell me the truth as well. Why aren’t you doing anything?”

He couldn’t turn around and look at her, not when his control was so weak – over his emotions, his expressions _and_ his temper. If it was anyone but Renee, he would leave without a word… but it _was_ Renee. “Because I’m not entirely sure that’s what’s going on. That we’re not jumping to conclusions. That and… you don’t know everything,” he told her. “There are costs involved in rescuing this particular little bird. I’m not putting me and mine’s necks on the chopping block for a Raven who just might fly back home if given the first opportunity when I don’t have all of the facts.”

It was quiet save for the sound of Renee shifting around on the wall. “Even if they are mistreating him like that?”

“Yes.” Damn it.

“Hmm.” She stood up as well. “It never worked against me because… well, it didn’t, but for some of the other gang members, they were easy to control because of their families, because of their younger siblings or lovers, for some even their children.” She was mindful to not come too close as she approached along aside him. “It’s a common tactic, to use some sort of leverage against someone,” she remarked as she held up her phone, which displayed a picture of Josten with Moreau and Patel.

“Would the Moriyamas really do that to someone?” Andrew drawled as they went downstairs.

Renee’s eyes narrowed as she slipped the phone back into her bag. “I’m trying to remember that justice is in the hand of the Lord… but some people make it difficult.”

Andrew snorted in derision at that; let do-gooders like Renee believe in such useless platitudes – he much preferred a more immediate sense of ‘justice’, one he knew for a fact was fitting and ‘just’. After all, none had ever happened for him until he’d taken it into his own hands – so what did that make him?

The topic of Josten and the Moriyamas shelved for the time being, they went their separate ways. Oh, it couldn’t be neglected for long, not with the game against the Ravens in October, not with Kevin striving to hold on to the precious independence he’d wrestled from Edgar Allan and the Moriyamas, but it could rest until Andrew gathered enough information for his next move.

*******

“So, things are going to be a bit crazy this weekend, being a home game and all,” Marley remarked to Neil as they left their English class on Monday; the hall was more crowded than normal because of a signup for some sort rally later that week.

“Just a little,” he answered, conscious of the attention directed their way from the ‘regular’ students for some reason, maybe because of their Ravens jackets.

“Hmm.” She glanced around as to check something. “I still owe you the phone, since I forgot about the banquet and all. I can get it this weekend.”

“I know you’re good for it,” he told her with a slight smile. “But this weekend would be fine.” It wasn’t as if he had anyone in particular to call, but he’d feel better in case of an ‘emergency’ to have the device on hand. “Have to call my baby mama and all,” he joked, referring to some of the ridiculous conversations they’d heard during their class earlier.

Marley laughed at that, the sound so bright and exuberant that Neil couldn’t help but smile a little more. “Oh my god, I can’t… _ooh_ ….” She gave his left arm a gentle squeeze as she wiped at her eyes. “Do you even know what that means?”

“Uhm….” He shrugged as he hitched his messenger bag a little higher up on his left shoulder. “I’m hoping there are kids involved, because that sounds rather creepy if they’re not. Spenser wasn’t talking about a young step-mother, was he?” Because if so… _eww_. And this was coming from someone with one hell of a messed up family.

Marley giggled a little at that. “Yeah, he was talking about some poor girl he’d knocked up.” Her smile fell away. “Rather sad to think that _he’s_ in college and everything, but….” She shrugged. “We don’t know the whole story, but it makes me glad I’m not into all _that_.” She waved her hand around. “I mean, it’s probably nice to have someone there for you, but I don’t want to worry about getting pregnant or all the problems other friends had with relationships when I want to focus on making the pros.” She gave him a smile and another gentle squeeze to his arm. “Besides, friends are great, right? Friends can be there for you, too.”

Considering that all Neil had ever had up until that summer had been his mother…. “Yeah, friends are great,” he assured Marley, something he never thought he’d say with any conviction at one point in his life.

“Exactly.” Her smile widened as she looked up and caught sight of Jean. “Even grumpy ones.”

Jean watched them approach – watched _Neil_ approach. Ever since the night in the hotel, he’d been… well, Neil could only think of it as he’d been more mindful of him, not quite overbearing but quicker to step between Neil and other Ravens whenever possible, to act as a buffer between him and everyone else. Perhaps it was guilt, perhaps it was him standing up for Neil however he could – all Neil knew was that he appreciated having someone at his back, appreciated knowing that he could relax the slightest bit when he was with his partner.

“You were dawdling,” Jean called out to them, his arms folded across his chest and his expression stern.

“What, did it take us an extra minute to get here?” Marley asked, and rolled her eyes when Jean nodded. “Blame the theater students who are trying to get more funding because us mean jocks use it all up, something about new seats and costumes,” she told him. “I’m surprised you haven’t seen the tables set up for them yet.”

Jean’s expression grew clouded upon hearing that. “The Master won’t be pleased to hear about that. He doesn’t like anything negative reflecting upon us.”

Neil frowned at that as he took his place at Jean’s left side. “Really? It’s just some students complaining about funds and everything.”

“It’s still something that might bring negative publicity to the campus,” Jean explained. “Nothing is allowed to interfere with our practices or studies, and especially not with our games.” He gave a pointed look toward the stadium with its towers. With the _East_ Tower.

“Wow. I mean, part of the thing that sold my parents on me choosing Edgar Allan in the end is how much the school bends over backwards for the Exy program, but that’s… I’m at a loss for words.” Marley frowned as she accepted Jean’s messenger bag for once without any complaint. “Think it’ll be bad?”

“For the most part, people here understand that it’s the Exy program which brings in the money and prestige to the university,” Jean explained in his smooth, accented voice. “Edgar Allan didn’t have much of a presence before Tetsuji came here and formed the Ravens. But there are always those who are resentful of our status and others who look to stir up trouble for the sake of creating chaos.”

In other words, Neil probably should enjoy being outside while he could, because his father’s people probably would complain about anything that might present an opportunity for him to be involved in any trouble or draw unwanted attention his way. The three of them were quiet until they ran into Meg, who chatted in a rush about how several people tried to get her to sign a petition about the theater program (she at least had the sense to _not_ do that – Neil didn’t want to think what Tetsuji would do if he saw one of his Ravens’ names on that list).

By the time they returned to the Nest, it seemed the other Ravens had heard of the protest, too. “Tayler Ackerson on the football team told me that they held up signs at Friday’s game,” McPherson told them in the hallway. “There’s no way that’ll happen this Friday at ours, not with the media here, so I’m willing to bet something’s going to make the theater department settle soon”

“Just because of our game?” Meg asked, disbelief evident in her expression and voice.

McPherson waved around her while Lau shook her head, her chin-length black hair fanning around her narrow face. “So we continue to look good,” the dealer explained. “It’s more than just us winning, it’s how we present ourselves while we do it. That we appear as if we’re worthy of your respect.”

“Take Neil, for example,” Jean said. “Without his Raven uniform he’s just a short, unimpressive British devil. How sad.”

Neil gave his partner the finger. “Yet I’d still be able to kick your whiney French ass.”

“See, the uniform gives him an unrealistic sense of importance about himself,” Jean sniffed. “It works.”

Meg laughed as Neil took a swipe at Jean’s head, but the tall bastard stepped aside just in time. Everyone went off to their own rooms to study a little before lunch and afternoon practice, and Neil noticed that the topic of the theater department was discussed while everyone ate their baked fish, rice and vegetables (Marley was smug as hell as she sprinkled some of her smuggled chili powder on her meal).

So no one was surprised when they were told that they weren’t to leave the Nest that week at the start of the second practice session of the day, especially upon finding out that a couple of theater majors had thought it might be a good idea to corner _Riko_ of all people to get him to sign their petition. Neil tensed up at that, well aware by then what it meant when the bastard was in a bad mood, and braced himself for a painful session.

At least he was paired on Riko’s ‘team’ for the first skirmish, though that didn’t mean that Riko still couldn’t slam him around or trip him up with his racquet. It certainly didn’t mean that other players wouldn’t seek to batter him about in their quest to prove that he wasn’t good enough for his number, that they were better. Tollis was paired with Williams, a junior who usually came into the game during the second half, and it was evident that both of them were eager to gain a higher rank at Neil’s expense.

Still sore from Friday night, Neil held on to his racquet with determination and refused to go down, to give up the ball when it was in his possession or let anyone show him up. He kept Riko’s and Jean’s position on court in mind at all times, open for his partner to send him the ball and to pass shots on to Riko to appease the bastard’s need for glory.

He managed to score a point on Anders, only to be slammed into by Bautista _after_ the ball had left his racquet. “Hmm, like being beneath me, don’t you?” the asshole murmured into Neil’s right ear, and for a moment Neil couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, and then Anders was yelling at Bautista to clear the area in front of his goal. Neil took great delight in nailing the bastard in the groin by ‘accident’ as he struggled to his feet, and looked up to find the ball already in play and halfway down the court.

Racing to catch up on the action, Neil watched as Tollis threw it to Williams and continued onward to run interference with Jean, leaving her teammate to deal with Riko. For some reason the fool charged right at their captain as if being half a foot taller than Riko would make any difference, as if he could _intimidate Riko_ , and Neil wasn’t surprised when a couple of seconds later Williams went down when Riko checked him into the wall, _hard_.

He didn’t get up, either, even after Riko got the ball and fired it off to Neil, his ten steps all used up, and Neil ducked beneath Bautista’s attempt to check him (and oops, the end of his racquet _just_ managed to flip up and hit the asshole in the sternum like that as he took his aim at the goal) to score another point.

It was then that Tetsuji called a time-out and had Akagi on the coaching staff check out Williams. When the striker didn’t respond right away, the team nurse, Kathy Morinello, was brought out onto the court. Neil stood next to Jean when Williams was taken away on a stretcher with a neck brace and all once the woman was done checking out the backliner.

Injury or not, practice quickly resumed, and that time, no one challenged Riko and Neil finished the session with only a few new bruises. He was grateful for the hot shower afterward, as always, though he and Jean kept a close eye on Riko the entire time, until Tetsuji called his surly nephew away.

“ _How often does that happen? Someone being carried off of the court?_ ” Neil asked once they were alone in their room, the two of them stretched out on Jean’s bed – Neil with his laptop, Jean with a book.

“ _Not often_.” Jean chewed on a hangnail for a moment before he shook his head. “ _Once a season, twice at most. We are Ravens, we walk off…._ ” He didn’t finish that sentence.

They walked off or they weren’t Ravens anymore, Neil was willing to bet. “ _And how often is it because of Riko_?” He leaned back against Jean’s legs, and knew the answer from the blank look on his partner’s face. “ _How does he get away with it_?”

“ _Family bonds are strong_ ,” was all that Jean would say.

Neil supposed, at least for some families. He knew his mother had given up everything for him… but his father thought of him as only a nuisance to be dealt with or a debt to be handed over. That Jean’s parents had seen him as nothing more than collateral.

“ _Families are a cancer_ ,” Neil argued as he laid in front of Jean, easily fitting in front of his taller partner; he pulled up his homework for the day and smiled when Jean massaged the back of his head.

“ _Such ridiculous hair, a sure sign of the devil_ ,” Jean murmured as he moved his book higher up on the bed while nudging at Neil’s head with his chin.

“ _Pardon me, I missed out on that whole French aesthetics of perfection. Too busy running for my life to figure out the best way to style my hair_.” He continued to smile until Jean reached over to delete the math problem he’d been working on. “Bastard.”

“ _Hmm, it’s part of that whole aesthetic thing_ ,” Jean stated with a great deal of smugness.

“ _No, I think you’re just a bastard_ ,” Neil argued as he retyped the problem, then had to guard his keyboard from another attack. “ _I will throw out all of your precious mousse, watch me_.”

“ _And then I will have a very interesting talk with Maureen about your love for kale_ ,” Jean countered as he mentioned the one dietician who worked with them the most on their meal plans. Neil gave the traitor a gentle kick on the shin, and after that they focused on studying since they didn’t have much time and Tetsuji checked their grades during the week.

It was…it was comfortable, tucked against Jean like that, feeling even breaths on the top of his head and body heat soaking into his back; it was always cold in the Nest, perhaps because of being underground and all the black walls. Even with his Ravens sweatshirt on, Neil was grateful for Jean’s warm presence, for the firm arm draped along his side that he could throw off at any moment. It was a little odd, being able to lie down with someone like that, to _touch_ them like that, but it was also good to know that he could do it without being hurt.

He thought that Jean felt the same way.

Williams wasn’t at the evening practice, nor was he at the following day’s morning one. After working in their room on the assignments that their professors had sent (Neil got to watch videos for his Japanese class), they ate a quiet lunch with Marley and Meg before returning to court for the afternoon session, where Tetsuji was talking to Riko and the assistant coaches. After a minute or two, they broke up and Tetsuji called Jean and Neil forward.

Uncertain what their ‘master’ wanted with them, Neil forced an even expression on his face. “Yes, sir?” he asked, the same time as Jean, who also gave a respectful nod.

Tetsuji gazed at Neil for a moment, his expression giving nothing away, before he glanced over at the line-up. “How is Patel’s training progressing?”

Neil almost spoke up before he looked over at Jean and deferred to his partner, who outranked him, which seemed to please Tetsuji. “Sir, she’s showing steady improvements,” Jean told the man without any of the disdain he usually unleashed upon Marley for her playing ability. “She’s determined to learn and accepts critique – she was rough at first, but she’s buckled down on that front. She’s more than aggressive enough, what she needs to work on is the patience to recognize opportunities.” Then Jean nodded at Neil to continue.

“As Jean said, sir, she’s driven to improve and learns quickly. It’s a bit unfair, pitting her against someone of Jean’s caliber,” his partner’s lips quirked the tiniest bit at that, “but she doesn’t give up.”

Tetsuji was quiet as he considered all of that. “Are you willing to vouch for her?” he asked Neil, who didn’t need to have it spelled out for him what _that_ meant, not when Jean went still, not when Tetsuji gazed at him with those emotionless dark eyes.

“That she’s improved and will make a fine addition to the line? Yes,” Neil said without hesitation; he believed in Marley’s skill and determination – that and if he said ‘no’, then it meant that he and Jean had wasted their time these last few months, and he didn’t think that Tetsuji would appreciate that, either. Didn’t think it would bode well for them or Marley.

“Very well.” Tetsuji nodded once before he looked back at the rest of the team. “Patel, you are now number 25.” That was all he said before he called out names for the first scrimmage, which didn’t leave Neil any time to congratulate his friend as he ran over to get his racquet, just for him to flash Marley a smile as she stood there in shock while Meg gave her a hug.

“She’s going to be insufferable now,” Jean complained while he shoved on his helmet.

“You say that as if you didn’t think she was before now.” Neil smirked when Jean attempted to trip him with his racquet. “Just think, you can be twice as hard on her now during the night practices.”

“ _A devil from hell_ ,” Jean muttered as they took their places on court.

Riko was a bit ‘subdued’ that day, which made Neil believe that Tetsuji may have finally smacked the bastard down for once – it was clear that whatever happened to Williams, it was bad enough to knock the striker out for a few games at least, if not the season. Broken bones?  Spinal injury? Brain trauma? Try as he might, Neil couldn’t make himself care much about someone he didn’t know and who probably wouldn’t have spared a thought if their spots had been reversed.

Not when Tollis, Engle, and Saunders were sending Marley dirty looks when it was her turn out on the court, when Tetsuji and Riko watched with critical gazes to see if she could hold her own against the more seasoned players. She took some nasty hits but she kept getting up and managed to score a goal against Anders, even if Loiseau knocked her on her ass in the process.

“Was that legal? How can that be legal?” Meg demanded to know as the goal lit up.

“The ball was in the air,” Jean said with a casual shrug, long inured to how the Ravens played. “And there aren’t any referees around here.”

“She’s going to put up with the same stuff in a real game,” Neil warned as he ran a hand through his sweat-damp hair. At Meg’s disbelieving look, he nodded. “It’s worse in NCAA than high school, you’re dealing with people trying to make it to the pros, after all, and a lot of them believe that women don’t belong on court.” He felt a bit of bitterness for a moment. “Even I take a lot of shit, being a rookie and so small.” There was the tattoo on his cheek, was him being a Raven when next to no one knew him, was the fact that almost all the other players were so much bigger than him. Once the game started, the other team was only so happy to do their best to try to take him out since they thought he’d be an easy target.

“You should hear the devil’s mouth and how he taunts them in return,” Jean agreed. “I don’t know how he can run and spout such nonsense at the same time, it must be a British thing. Instead of brains, it’s just additional oxygen up there.” He motioned toward Neil’s head. “Maybe some wool, too.”

Meg smiled a little at the terrible joke. “No, not _Neil,_ ” she murmured, only to become upset once again when she saw Marley get into a shoving match with Tollis over the ball. “It’s like Dan said, us girls have to fight twice as hard to be taken seriously.”

“Yeah, but you’re strong, you’ll manage.” When she looked over at him, Neil gave her a solemn nod as he thought about his mother and how she never stopped fighting, right up until the end. He even thought about Lola, feared by some of the biggest monsters of the criminal world. “Some of the strongest people I’ve known have been women.”

She smiled at him while Jean retied his black bandana around his head. “ _The little flea will do well, but do you think this one will survive for long without you looking out for her_?”

“ _She may surprise us yet_ ,” Neil answered back but he didn’t meet his partner’s eyes as he fussed with his own bandana, which countered his words; perhaps Meg would indeed surprise them… but more likely it would be Neil extending his protection the entire time they were in the Nest, and hoping that Meg was wise in her decision of a pro team.

Some people had it in them to fight back, to stand up for themselves. Some people had it in them to defend themselves no matter what. Neil didn’t like what he’d done when backed into a corner, didn’t like some of the things he’d had no choice but to do while he’d been on the run with his mother and had to protect not only his life but hers. Part of him was terrified of the thin line between self-defense and becoming his father, was terrified of the temper he’d inherited from the man (and more). But in the end, he was a fighter.

He believed that deep down, Jean was a fighter, too. Battered and forced to submit over the years spent at Edgar Allan, as Riko’s possession, but a fighter. There were still sparks left, fanned a little brighter over the last few months with the way he taunted Neil and the girls, with the bit of confidence he showed them in their private moments, the way he was standing up to the other Ravens for Neil and refused to allow them to take away his or Neil’s numbers.

Marley was a fighter, too, as evident with the way she bared her teeth at Saunders before she tripped him and went off running with the ball, with the way she managed to knock Engle off his feet and score another goal. Her jersey was covered with sweat and there were scratches on the bit of exposed flesh of her long legs and arms, what looked like a darkening bruise beneath her mask, but she was undaunted out on the court. Neil was willing to bet that she wouldn’t end out the season as ‘25’.

But Meg? Meg, who winced each time Marley clashed with anyone out on court? Who practiced all day long but complained about her sweets and missing her family (wait until she realized that it would be expected of her to spend most if not all of the holiday breaks at the Nest)? Neil didn’t think she was a fighter, or at least much of one. That wasn’t a bad thing necessarily… except she was in an environment where she _needed_ to be one.

At least, she needed to be the right kind of one.

Especially since it looked as if Ross still wasn’t making any progress. The afternoon practice started with one freshman being elevated in rank and another facing Tetsuji’s wrath yet again, which stifled the mood of everyone going into the locker room – especially since Riko remained out on court with his uncle and the rookie goalkeeper. Neil thought of the fading bruises on his body from Friday and looked straight ahead as he went to shower.

Still, he and Jean waited in the hallway for Marley and Meg to leave the women’s showers so he could give her a quick hug, the gesture just as gingerly repeated by a stiff Jean. “Congrats, you tall freak,” Neil told a beaming Marley.

She laughed at that as she wiped at her eyes; there was a darkening bruise on the left side of her jaw, which didn’t seem to bother her at all. “They had to do _something_ to get the average height of the offensive line back up after you joined the team!” she teased, which even got a smile out of Jean. “Oh god, I can’t wait to call my parents! They’ll won’t be home for a while, I’ll do it before I go to bed tonight. They’ll never forgive me if I call one of them before the other.”

“They’re going to be so proud of you,” Meg declared as she hugged her partner (for how much longer?) yet again.

Neil felt that faint sting of enviousness again at the thought of being able to make one’s parents proud, of having parents who _cared_. “You do realize that Jean’s going to work you even harder now, right? I may kick your ass a little, too.”

Marley smiled as she shook her head. “Both of you can bring it on.”

“Imbecile,” Jean told her as he flicked her on the forehead. “Go put ice on those bruises, you have more work to do later.”

“Yeah, yeah, no rest for the wicked,” Marley said as she rolled her eyes.

“No rest for the Exy-challenged, you mean,” Neil shot back, and managed an innocent expression when she gave him a rude gesture while Meg laughed.

They parted ways for the time being, and a couple of Ravens called out to Marley while the girls walked to their room – Anders and Hebig remarking on how they looked forward to taking her down later that evening, their words harsh but tones friendly.

Bautista and Johnson said much the same thing, but that wasn’t team bonding right there. Neil’s back stiffened at the threats, yet Jean gave him a gentle push toward their room. “ _Some fights you have to let her handle on her own_ ,” his partner told him. “ _If she truly aims to start behind you and Riko, to be Court, then she will have to deal with them and worse_.”

There were moments when Neil wondered why it was that he loved Exy so much, why he gave up so much for a sport when it had cost him so high a price… but he knew as soon as he was out on court with a racquet in hand that all of his doubts would fade away. Yes, it was violent and demanding, but the truth was, violence was born and bred into him. He was the Butcher’s son, was a Hatford as well – one had carved out (literally) a criminal empire of his own on the East Coast, one was a name acknowledged with respect (and caution) on the other side of the Atlantic. Neil/Nathaniel had grown up around brutality and death the way that most children grew up with security and carefully defined borders, with adrenalin and fear and pain flowing through him on a daily basis.

Perhaps he shouldn’t be surprised about joining the Exy team back in Millport – the town had been too quiet, too safe. Yes, he’d been exhausted physically, mentally and emotionally after his mother’s death, but he’d never lived without the constant shadow of being caught and killed looming over him. Having a safe haven of sorts, no matter how dubious… he’d needed something to make him feel _alive_.

He wondered why Marley played Exy, if it was to make her feel alive, too. Jean played to _stay_ alive, so it wasn’t the same, but Marley was definitely driven to not only play but excel.

They stretched out on Jean’s bed again to work on their homework, with Jean helping Neil with an English essay (there was a good bit of mocking done the entire time over that fact – Neil suffered through it since being on the run meant a spotty education at best for certain subjects).

“An Englishman who fails at his own language, how tragic,” Jean sneered.

Neil waited until he was done with his paper to reach for his barely used phone. “What was that? You just agreed to tutor Marley with her French? How kind of you,” he said as he began to text.

“ _Send that and it’s kale every day_!” Jean shouted as he attempted to snatch away the phone, his expression one of pure horror.

“ _It might actually be worth it_ ,” Neil told him with a smile, and laughed when Jean finally managed to snag the phone (damn the French bastard’s longer reach) to see that Neil had just texted Marley about a project they had to do for English later in the semester.

“ _A devil sent to torment me_ ,” Jean muttered as he threw the phone back at Neil, who rested against Jean’s side with his eyes closed. “ _Perhaps if Notre Dame makes it to the semi-finals this year and we get to play them on their court, I can find a reason to swing by their basilica and fetch enough holy water to send you back to hell_.”

“ _Hmm, you’d miss me_ ,” Neil said as he soaked in the warmth and relative quiet of the moment, and fought the urge to go to sleep. He was so tired from the constant practices, from the nightmares at night and the aches in his body which never entirely went away. A nap would be so nice… but they needed to eat and start evening practice.

“ _I would not_ ,” Jean insisted as he combed his fingers through Neil’s hair. Neil murmured something inaudible at the sensation while he drifted in that hazy, half-asleep place, and all too soon Jean gave a gentle tug to his bangs. “ _Come, time for dinner_.”

A few more days, Neil told himself. They played the Madison Dukes that Friday evening, and would have a little time to rest on the weekend with only morning and afternoon practices. He was looking forward to sleeping most of the time when he wasn’t on the court, even if he had to take a pill or two to make that possible.

Evening practice was a continuation of the afternoon session, was Marley taking more than a few hits out on court but refusing to go down. Neil took a few as well, some of the older Ravens making it known that they weren’t pleased with him helping a ‘rookie’ move up the line so quickly, but all they could do to him was shove him around some, knock him down or into a wall, hit him about with a hard stick. That was _nothing_ , so he grinned and insulted them in several different languages until they grew frustrated and messed up, which only helped him to snatch the ball away in the end and make them look bad in front of Riko and Tetsuji.

“You are a suicidal fool,” Jean commented while they were seated on the bench. “The depth of your folly takes my breath away, it does.”

Meanwhile, Marley gave Neil a poke in his (sore) left side. “Teach me some of those insults, okay? Whatever you said to make Bautista lose it like that.”

“Yes, because ‘stunted monkey-fucker’ only works so well,” Jean grumbled. “You _both_ are suicidal fools. Do yourselves in quickly so I am put out of my misery.”

“Is it a French thing?” Meg asked as she handed Neil and Marley fresh bottles of water. “This whole ‘woe is me’ act? Because he’s really good at it.”

“Do _her_ in, too. I refuse to be stuck with her once you two imbeciles are gone,” Jean commanded as he folded his arms over his chest and scowled.

That led Meg to try to hug Jean and proclaim that no, he really did love her, didn’t he? Marley spilled water all over her already sweat-soaked jersey in her rush to yank back her partner from a cringing Jean and say that some baguettes were just too crusty to embrace. There were more insults on Jean’s parts about how he was surrounded by brainless, over-emotional Americans and a British devil who wasn’t content unless he was antagonizing everyone, but that seemed to settle Meg before any of them got into trouble with Tetsuji and Riko.

If Jean was a little harsh on Meg as well as Marley that night and the following others, Neil didn’t step in; Meg needed to learn to watch what she said and did, to think first before she acted. While he supposed it was heartening to know that someone as kind and generous as Meg truly did exist… it would be better if she didn’t exist in the _Nest_. Yet there she was, determined to play Exy, to make it onto the line just like Marley had, and some part of Neil didn’t like to think about her turning into Tollis – or worse, into him.

It was enough that he walked the black hallways beneath Evermore with a knife in his right pocket while hyperaware of everyone around him, of Jean at his side and the nearest door (never the nearest exit, not in the Nest). That he assessed the other Ravens as 'threat' and 'possible threat' based on if they'd hurt him yet or not.

That he spent a few minutes each night while Jean was in the bathroom practicing with that knife, determined to not let someone like Minyard ever be able to get a draw on him so easily again.

No, he didn't want Meg to turn into him. It was bad enough that more and more each day, all those lessons that his father had forced upon him (on Nathaniel) were coming to the fore.

That was something to consider some other time, though, since they had a game on Friday. On Thursday morning they were informed that things had been settled with the theater department, yet Neil was to remain in the Nest while the rest of the team could return to campus for their outside classes. Puzzled by that, he’d had given Nakamura a curious look but hadn't received any explanation - and knew well enough by then to leave things alone. As his partner, Jean remained in the Nest as well, and appeared somewhat satisfied when Meg and Marley complained about rain during lunch.

They played the Madison Dukes on Friday evening, and as much as Neil was growing used to going out on court with the Ravens at his back, at looking up to seeing a crowd of faces surrounding him... there was something about being at Evermore which made it that much more special. To being surrounded by a sea of black and red, by so many faces, so many cheering fans, to have the low thrum of the Ravens' dirge-like anthem bore into his bones whenever they strode out onto the court and every time they scored a point.

Castle Evermore was _their_ court, was _their_ playing ground. It was where they spilled their blood and sweat day in and day out, was where Tetsuji did his best to break their spirit, to mold them into something new whether they wanted it or not.

They gave their all to the hard wood floor beneath their feet, gave everything they had to the game, to their team, their castle, and they wouldn't let _anyone_ take that away from them. _Ever_.

Certainly not some other team ranked in the lower half of their district. Madison came onto Evermore's court with possession of the ball thanks to a lucky coin-toss, and barely saw it again for the rest of the game.

Considering the huge gap in the score, Tetsuji put Marley out on the court in the third quarter as if testing the waters, where she managed to score two goals and assist in several others despite one of the Madison backliners (Bernhardt) doing his best to stonewall her as much as possible. It was along the lines of the brutal treatment she'd dealt with all week, what Jean regularly did to her in practice (albeit with a little less force and a lot less hostility), what some of the upperclassmen had done in skirmishes over the summer so she held on to her racquet and gave back as good as she got, shoving the asshole into the walls a few times herself. The last time she managed to do so with enough force that she was yellow-carded, which was when Tetsuji, nodding once in curt approval, replaced her with Neil.

"Give 'em hell, devil," she told Neil in passing with a wide grin.

"Someone has to, that was pathetic," he shot back, which made her laugh.

The final score was 23-3, which meant that the line-up between teams at the end of the game to shake hands was a _little_ tense. Riko’s conceited grin didn’t help matters; Neil heard more than a fair share of grumbling about ‘damn show-offs’ and ‘assholes should go back to their old district’. Having Bautista and Tollis throw back ‘sore losers’ and ‘learn to play the damn game’ didn’t help, so he was more than relieved when it came time to leave the field.

Marley came running up to Neil and Jean once the teams broke apart. “Uhm, I’m going to catch my parents for a couple of minutes, introduce Meg to them and everything.” She motioned to him and Jean. “Do you….”

Neil blinked in surprise at that while Jean shook his head. “We need to go, in case Riko or the Master wants us for any interviews.”

“Right.” Marley frowned as if disappointed for a moment before she shrugged. “Dealing with the press is better than my parents, any day.”

Before she could turn around, Jean reached out with his helmet held in his left hand and knocked it against her head. “You didn’t completely embarrass us tonight, ma puce. Don’t be too long, since I’m sure you’ll be sitting on the court a good bit tomorrow morning.”

Marley gawked at him for a couple of seconds, along with Meg, before she scoffed. “As if. I can’t wait to face off against you, we’ll see whose ass kisses the court, _Crusty_!” She waved goodbye before she pulled Meg along toward the stands; upon hearing about her making the line, her parents had flown out from Portland to see the night’s game even though it wasn’t assured that she would have much, if any, court time and she could only get permission to spend a little time away from the Nest the following afternoon. Jean had warned her (and Meg) to not ask for such permission often, as too much ‘personal’ time would be considered a strike against them.

Meanwhile, Neil gave his partner a considering look. “ _What_?” Jean snapped as they resumed heading toward the locker room.

“ _Are you all right? Did I miss you taking a hit to the head or something_?”

“ _Impertinent devil_ ,” Jean muttered as he shoved at the side of _Neil’s_ head. “ _She’s still delusional if she thinks she’s anywhere near Muldani’s league, but she didn’t do that bad tonight. The Master shouldn’t have any qualms with **us**_.” Ah, of course, Jean was pleased because Tetsuji was able to see that they were training Marley up right. “ _Though she’s going to have to deal with Tollis and the others because of tonight_.”

“ _If I need to teach her a few tricks, I will_ ,” Neil promised. Some of the things his mother had taught him during all those years on the run, though Marley kept insisting that her brothers had made sure she knew how to defend herself whilethey’d grown up in north Portland, where there weren’t a lot of other South Asian families in their neighborhood.

“ _You are not happy unless you are causing us trouble_ ,” Jean complained as he tugged off his gloves.

“ _I find that remark to be highly offensive. You act as if I go out of my way to make all these things happen_.” Neil gave his partner an innocent look while Jean narrowed his grey eyes. “ _I don’t do anything_.”

“ _Be quiet before I’m tempted to drown you in the showers_ ,” Jean told him with utter conviction. When all Neil did was smile at him in return, he muttered, “ _God’s biggest mistake was creating England_ ,” as he yanked open his locker.

Neil took great delight in humming ‘God Save the Queen’ while he removed his gear, and chuckled when he found himself pulled into the showers by his snarling partner.

The best part of it all was that Riko was busy being interviewed, apparently in a good mood if he hadn’t returned to wash off yet. Neil had plans for collapsing on his (Jean’s) bed and getting some well-earned sleep and had just pulled on his sweatshirt when Nakamura called out his name.

A familiar sense of dread filled him when the assistant coach motioned for him to follow, while Jean slumped a little against his locker while holding on to his pair of sneakers. Neil spared his friend a thin smile before following the Japanese man, certain of the destination and bitter about being denied a reprieve for _one_ damn week. Was it too much to hope that he could have _one_ week without setting Riko off? Without having to deal with his father’s people?

It was a quiet walk to the East Tower, where Neil followed Nakamura with his hands shoved into the pockets of his sweat pants (the fingers of his right hand wrapped around the knife) with his damp bangs falling onto his face. People were busy cleaning up the stadium from the game and faint echoes of cheering voices and car horns being honked could be heard from out in the parking lot, along with the sound of music as Edgar Allan students continued to celebrate the Ravens’ victory. The bitterness swelled inside of Neil because even though he was a university student, was doing something he never thought he’d be able to do – attend university and play Exy – there was _such_ a huge divide between him and those young people out there, was such a gap between his world and theirs. What was it like to feel such unfettered happiness? To be able to do something as meaningless as attend a game on a Friday night with one’s friends and then get drunk afterward? To be able to let one’s guard down enough like that?

Instead, he was in an elevator up to a tower filled with murderers and thieves, all because he was property, because his father had sold him off to the yakuza. Because his whole life was nothing but lies and death and treachery.

He left the elevator alone and went to the large room overlooking the stadium, intending to find DiMaccio or Lola there, along with Ichirou Moriyama and assorted bodyguards. The latter were there, but Neil was confused when he didn’t see any of his father’s people, not DiMaccio, not either of the Malcolms, not Plank. There were several young men he didn’t recognize, a young woman who reminded him a little of the Foxes’ captain… and an older man whom at first he thought must be an illusion.

“For fuck’s sake, look at you,” the man said in an accent which made Neil shiver to hear it, it was so familiar, was just like his mother’s – more South East England with a hitch of Cockney now and then. “You’ve grown so damn much, Nathaniel.” He took a few quick steps toward Neil but stopped just out of reach, especially when Neil flinched at the sudden movement.

“Ah… Uncle Stuart.” Neil wrapped his arms around himself as he stared at his mother’s brother, at Stuart Hatford. He hadn’t seen the man in about eight years, not since they’d fled London shortly after his mother had grabbed him and left behind both Nathan Wesninski and the United States. The UK had been their first stop on the run, where Mary had went right to her brothers… but she’d known that her husband would come looking there eventually so despite Stuart and Will’s pleas, she’d taken Neil (Nathaniel) and off they’d went to criss-cross Europe for the next several years. “What… what are you doing here?” Neil glanced at Ichirou, who sat in one of the padded leather chairs and watched everything in what appeared to be interested silence while he sipped from a tumbler of alcohol.

Stuart jerked his hand through his short, greying blond hair at the question; he was supposedly a year or two older than Mary and there was a family resemblance in the grey eyes and blond hair, the short stature and straight nose – the last two which Neil had inherited as well. “Where else would I be after finding out that my sister’s dead and my nephew’s playing some stupid game!” Neil found himself flinching at the anger in the man’s voice.

“It seems that the Hatfords want to negotiate,” Ichirou said in that calm manner of his, despite the intense interest in those dark eyes which were focused on Neil.

“Negotiate?” Neil frowned as he tried to make sense out of that and glanced back and forth between his uncle and Ichirou. “Negotiate what?”

Stuart motioned to him then turned toward Ichirou. “May I talk with my nephew?” The words came out through gritted teeth as if asking for permission galled him, and as soon as Ichirou nodded, Stuart waved to one of the private rooms off to the side. Neil only hesitated for a moment before he went with his uncle, mostly certain that Mary’s brother wouldn’t hurt him. In the end, it wasn’t as if he had much of a choice.

As soon as they were in what turned out to be an expensively furnished office with a large desk, several leather chairs and a breathtaking view of the campus, Stuart closed the door behind them and sighed as he once more took to studying Neil. Uncomfortable under that pale gaze, Neil thought about the fading bruises on his neck and face, which he hadn’t bothered to cover since he’d been planning on going back to his room, and was grateful for the long sleeves of his shirt. “What the hell are they doing to you, Nathaniel?”

The question made him glare at his uncle, who should have known better than to even _ask_. “Whatever they _want_ , that’s the point of owning someone,” he snapped as he leaned against the desk. “Why are you here?”

Something like guilt flashed across his uncle’s face, quickly replaced by anger. “Dammit, why didn’t you call me? Why didn’t _Mary_ call me? This-“ He let out a shaky breath as he ran his hands over his hair. “We would have been there for you, dammit.”

Some of Neil’s own temper died down as he saw the grief on his uncle’s face, as he remembered how much the man had pleaded with his mother not to leave, all those years ago. “I… I don’t know why she didn’t,” he half-lied; there were times when they could have used the Hatfords’ help, but Mary had been determined to do without it for some reason. Neil suspected that she wanted as clean a break as she could make it from both her husband’s and her family’s worlds for him… probably because as long as he was tied to them, the Moriyamas could always come calling. It hadn’t done him any good in the end. “As for me… after she died, I just wanted to find a place where I could be safe for a while, where I didn’t have to be _Nathaniel_ for a while.” A weak laugh escaped him as he pressed his fingers against the tattoo on his cheek. “That didn’t turn out so well.”

“No, it didn’t,” Stuart agreed as he fumbled in the right pocket of the expensive jacket of his suit to pull out a packet of cigarettes. “So it’s true, right? That fucking prick killed her?” The hate all but dripped from his words, shone as bright in his eyes as the flame of his silver lighter when he lit the cigarette as he stared at Neil.

“My father? Yes.” Neil shivered and wrapped his arms around his middle once more. “I buried her… somewhere in California, on a beach off of Route 1 around the Navarro River Redwoods park. We’d run into him in Seattle, and she didn’t let me know she’d been badly hurt until it was too late.” He could still remember that awful night, could remember driving the beat-up Toyota while she yelled at him to keep running, to never stop, her voice eventually growing weaker as she bled out. Remembered pulling over onto the deserted beach late at night, the sky full of all those stars, and burning her body in the car. Remembered dragging her remains out despite the heat scalding his fingers and burying them in the rough, wet sand, remembered that being the last time he truly cried.

It wasn’t so bad, being in the Nest and cut off from the nighttime sky, when he thought about the last night spent with his mother.

“I’m going to kill that bastard,” Stuart gritted out as he flicked ash onto the thick red carpet of the office. “I’m going to make sure he knows it’s me blowing his fucking brains out.”

Neil blinked at the hostility in his uncle’s voice. “He’s in prison.”

“No, not for much longer,” Stuart told him, deep voice made even lower with loathing. When Neil’s breath caught in panic at that, at the idea of Nathan Wesninski being free to hurt him once again, Stuart glared. “Word is that he’ll be out soon after the new year, which is why we – the family – have been working with some Feds we know who aren’t happy with the thought of the bastard being back on the street. Then we found out about you and Mary, and….” He paused to take a deep drag on the cigarette, its end flaring as bright as the animosity in his eyes. “Handing him over alive’s not good enough anymore, we need to take _everything_ away from him, just like he did to Mary.”

“So… what, you’re going to deal with the Moriyamas?” Neil didn’t quite understand what was going on, why his uncle was here to work for the same people which his father did.

Stuart smiled, the expression vicious and pleased. “We’re negotiating things with the little lord out there – Wesninski fucked up a couple of jobs, and we think we can handle them better. That and Ichirou won’t be the ‘little’ lord for long.” His smile faded as he nodded to Neil. “He’s letting us talk as a simple courtesy, so don’t let Riko or Tetsuji know.”

That wasn’t putting Neil in a difficult position, was it? If Riko found out… but then again, Stuart was right in that Ichirou would take over for Kengo eventually, and in the end, Ichirou held all of the power. “I understand.” Neil didn’t like it, but he understood.

“Clever lad, you always did take after Mary.” Neil fought not to flinch at that, considering all he ever saw in the mirror was his father’s detested face looking back at him, especially now with his hair dyed back to its natural color and the contacts long gone. Stuart stared at him for a few seconds before reaching out to grasp him by the shoulders, and Neil braced himself for a punch, for a hit of some kind, only to be pulled into an uncomfortable embrace. “Fuck, but you’ve grown up,” his uncle said in a gruff voice as he patted him on the back. “But you… you look good.” Stuart sniffed a little as he pulled away. “Mary would be proud.”

No she wouldn’t, not at Neil ending up in the Nest, but he didn’t say anything about that. “So you’ll be staying here?” he asked as he rubbed his hands along his opposite arms in an attempt to ward off a chill. “The States, I mean?”

“I will, at least. There’s more negotiations that need wrapped up which’ll take a bit more time, but we’ve made some good progress.” Stuart nodded to the other room. “It’s why Ichirou let me see you finally.” Neil wondered if that had anything to do with him keeping to the Nest the last two days. “But it won’t do for your father’s people finding out until everything’s finalized.” Hate twisted Stuart’s face once again.

“I understand,” Neil repeated.

Stuart nodded in approval and gave him a quick pat on the shoulder before opening the door; Ichirou was standing by then, in front of the windows overlooking the now quiet stadium. He turned to face them, his expression blank.

“We’re good now,” Stuart told him. “I appreciate you giving us this opportunity.”

“Yes, thank you,” Neil told Ichirou, well aware of the weight of the stares of all the people in the room, of Ichirou’s dark eyes watching him. “ _It’s much appreciated, Lord Ichirou_ ,” he added in Japanese.

A small amount of interest appeared on Ichirou’s face as he motioned Neil forward. “Ah, I see you’re progressing in your lessons.” When Neil stopped just out of reach, he motioned for him to come a little closer; Neil forced himself to take another two steps, and then not to react when Ichirou’s gloved left hand gently grasped his chin and tilted up his face. “I’m told you’re growing popular, what with this face and all. There have been inquiries already about sponsorship deals, so continue to improve, to show me your worth.” His hand slipped along Neil’s jaw until those gloved fingers slid through Neil’s damp hair and tightened in the strands. “Continue to impress me, Nathaniel,” he said as he pulled Neil closer, his expression intent and tone mild, yet Neil knew that it wasn’t a ‘suggestion’, that it was a command.

“ _Yu-yes, my lord_ ,” Neil breathed out as he struggled to neither lash out nor panic at the hold on him, at being so close to another person – another _man_.

“ _So obedient_ ,” Ichirou said as his fingers tightened even more, as he held Neil still for several seconds. It wasn’t until someone in the room shifted about, the sound of a leather holster creaking abnormally loud in the quiet room, that he finally let Neil go. “I expect you and Moreau to go along with whatever the sponsors want.”

“ _Yes, my lord_ ,” Neil repeated as he took a hasty step back while giving a slight bow of his head. “Anything else?”

Ichirou turned back to face the windows once again. “No,” was all he said, already sounding bored with things, so Neil took that as his cue to leave (flee), and did so after giving his uncle a respectful nod.

He probably didn’t want to know what Jean was going to make out of _that_ interaction, nor what his friend would think of that last comment about the sponsors (why would anyone want Neil associated with their product?). Also, what would happen when Neil’s father was released from prison? Would Stuart’s deal with Ichirou do something about Nathan Wesninski before the man decided to teach his wayward son a long overdue lesson?

Distracted by those thoughts, it took Neil a couple of seconds to realize that Jean wasn’t alone in their room, a couple of seconds too late because by that point, Federov had slammed the door shut behind him and shoved him against the wall. Neil attempted to yank the knife free from his pocket, all ‘rules’ forgotten in his panic, but Federov had the advantage of surprise and strength, the bastard. Him and Bautista.

“Ah, ah, play nice,” Riko said even as he gave Jean another hit and knocked him back onto the bed; Jean’s mouth was bleeding and his black t-shirt was torn, his chest bloody, proof that Riko had ‘amused’ himself while Neil was gone. “Or else.” Riko ‘grinned’, the expression more apt on a corpse than a living person, as he stalked forward with his switchblade in hand.

“Why are you here?” Neil asked, even though he already suspected.

“What did my brother want?” Riko asked even as he slashed the blade across Neil’s chest, cutting through the black sweatshirt and skin. As Neil hissed in pain, he reached out to grab a handful of Neil’s hair and slammed his head back into the wall. “Why did he speak to _you_ , something worthless, when he wouldn’t even see my uncle?”

The response was there to say that both Tetsuji and Riko were the worthless ones, were side branch and so expendable, but Jean was already hurt so Neil merely smiled instead. “Sponsorship deals. Told me to prove my worth, me and Jean.”

Riko slashed him again. “Are you lying to me, Wesninski?” he demanded to know as he slammed Neil’s head with even more force, hard enough to make him feel dizzy.

“No,” Neil laughed, because it was true – for once he _wasn’t_ lying. “I like his threats better than yours.” He had to deflect things quickly, before Riko pushed too hard and found out about Stuart. “Like _him_ better. He’s nice to me.”

“You fucking piece of shit,” Riko snarled while Jean could be heard telling Neil to stop in the background. “You think you’re special? _You’re nothing_!” He punched Neil hard in the stomach and then in the jaw as Neil hunched over. “You’re nothing but what I make you out to be! Because _I_ own you! And I get to do whatever I want with you! Including treat you like the piece of trash you are! Lev, he’s all yours. Make him scream. Mike, go fetch his little protégé.”

“Wait, what-“ Neil had the breath punched out of him again, by Federov that time, before he was thrown onto his bed face first. He put up a struggle that time, but Federov elbowed him in the right kidney hard enough that Neil gasped in pain, just long enough to get his pants down and-

And Riko was hitting Jean again, cursing in Japanese and English and-

And the door to the room opened and then slammed shut, right as Marley’s shocked voice rang out, as she called out Neil’s and Jean’s names, as she took to cursing out Riko and Federov and Bautista, as there was the sound of fists hitting flesh and Bautista yelling and asking Riko for permission. Riko laughed and left Jean, Neil knew that much, his face turned to the side to watch his partner, to make sure that Jean was all right (wasn’t hurt _too_ much), and then there was more cursing and barked orders of ‘watch, dammit, watch!’.

Federov didn’t make him scream, but oh did it hurt, it _hurt_. When the bastard backliner was finally done, Riko dragged a sobbing Marley over to the bed and shoved her down beside Neil. “See? This are what your dear ‘friends’ really are,” he sneered as she glared at him through the tears with blatant hatred. “They’re _nothing_. Just filthy little toys, Twenty-five.”

“You’re fucked up, you-“ Marley gasped when Riko slapped her, and when she went to move, to rush off the bed and do something Neil was certain was beyond stupid, he forced his left hand to move and latch on to her right arm.

“Learn from them, Twenty-five,” Riko said as he headed for the door. “They may just be property, but they know their places. Well, most of the time.”

“It’s so fun when they don’t,” Federov laughed, right before the door closed behind them. Neil waited only long enough to ensure that they were gone (it wasn’t like they could lock the door or anything), before he let go of Marley, unwilling to touch her any longer, to look at her, before he forced his broken body to move.

Marley sucked in a deep breath and went to help him. “Oh my god, what are you- should you even-“ She stared at him in shock when Neil smacked her hands aside and nearly fell off the bed, his body trembling in reaction and… his body trembling.

Fortunately, Jean was there as always. “Give him space,” he said as he slowly reached out to help Neil off of the bed, just as bruised and bloody. “There’s a first aid kit in the closet nearest the corner. Top shelf. Fetch it.”

“But you need to-“

“ _Fetch it_!” Jean didn’t raise his voice exactly, but he put enough authority in it that a crying Marley scurried to obey.

Jean helped Neil get into the shower and out of his remaining clothes, to turn on the water just shy of scalding and then stepped away. While Neil let the hot water pour over him, Jean went to fetch some stuff from the other room – and to apparently argue with Marley over ‘evidence’ for about a minute until he gave her a rancorous laugh and told her to forget all about it. Then he returned to the bathroom and began to clean himself up at the sink.

Remembering everything that Riko had done to his friend, Neil forced himself to stand up (oooh, he’d need at _least_ a couple of pain pills that night), wash and then turn off the water, certain that a clean towel would be within reach, as always. Once wrapped in it, he stumbled over to the sink and attempted to hitch himself up on it despite the pain, but needed Jean’s help (needed Jean to lift him up) to manage it.

“ _You shouldn’t do that_ ,” Jean scolded him even as blood ran down his own chest from the newest cuts Riko had carved into it, his chest and even a few on his thighs. “ _Just_ -“

“Shut up,” Neil told him, too exhausted and aching and numb to argue; his own cuts weren’t much more than scratches for once, since the sweatshirt had offered some protection. They’d need cleaned soon, but Jean’s should be dealt with first. “Give me the damn needle,” he mumbled as he reminded himself that this was _Jean_ , was his partner and the person he trusted the most.

The bastard eyed him for a couple of seconds before reaching into the kit to fetch the packet of pills (he never said where he got them, which was probably good because Neil might be too inspired to rely upon them on a regular basis, then). “ _Take these first, I’m not letting you near me with a needle while your hands shake like that._ ”

“Wimp,” Neil half-sneered even as he snatched at the packet in relief, only to need Jean’s help to pop several free. Jean had to help him hold the glass of water steady as well, and then worked to prepare everything for the sutures.

It was during that when Marley crept into the bathroom’s doorway, her eyes red from crying and left cheek already bruising. “Are you… what do you need me to do?” she asked, her voice the most subdued that Neil had ever heard it.

He almost told her to go away and leave them alone, but the damage had been done and they needed to talk about a few things to ensure that it didn’t get worse. “Help me with the bandages,” he said as he motioned to the kit.

“Holy hell, are you really going to – yeah, you are.” She now looked a little green as Neil began to stitch up Jean, who was gritting his teeth against the pain, unwilling to take any pills until it was all done. “Why aren’t you going to Morinello or somebody?”

Neil waited until the worst of the cuts was finished to answer. “Because it won’t make a difference and they don’t need to be involved.” When Marley looked ready to argue, he shook his head. “Listen to me, okay? _Listen._ ” He paused long enough to ensure she was staring at him even though part of him hated looking at her just then, hated having her look at _him_. “You say anything about tonight and it could cost you your life. Not just your shot at playing Exy for a living, but _your life_!” Riko had destroyed enough already, he didn’t get to ruin Marley’s life as well.

“Yours and your family,” Jean managed through clenched teeth. “Do you believe that the others haven’t figured something out by now? That they’re completely ignorant? They remain quiet for a reason.”

Marley shook her head at that at first and then pulled apart a piece of gauze. “Sophie and Haley have said some things, told me that you guys had a lot to answer for because of the whole ‘Perfect Court’ thing. They made it sound like Riko and Tetsuji hold you to different standards and a special contract, not-“ The tears welled up for a moment before she swiped at her eyes with the ruined gauze. “That fucking sadist made it sound like he owned you.”

“He does.” Neil motioned to the pile of gauze until Marley handed him a clean one, needing something to wipe away some blood. “Look, I’m not going to explain everything because it’s better if you don’t know, but the Moriyamas are involved in more than just Exy. Stuff that includes Jean’s and my family as well, which isn’t very nice. Debts were involved, and we were used to pay them off.” A rather simplistic summary, but accurate. And more than Neil had ever wanted her to know.

“Less talking, more stitching,” Jean complained as Neil finished with another cut, his jaw twitching from holding in the pain.

“But you can’t just-“

“Yes,” Neil snapped as he wondered about how soon the awful night could end. “The Moriyamas are powerful enough that they can. That they can use an Exy team to their own end and cover up all the fucked-up stuff that Tetsuji and Riko do here, like beat the shit out of their own players and everything else. That they barter people around like nothing, and they can make a young woman and her family disappear if she’s stupid enough to say anything to them, _got it_?”

That seemed to finally have some effect because Marley stood there with her left hand cupping her bruised cheek while Neil finished the cuts on Jean’s chest and worked on the rest, the drugs thankfully dulling the worst of the pain in his poor body. “I… that pig Bautista was asking Riko if he could ‘have’ me,” she admitted in that quiet voice again, “while touching me. Riko told him ‘no’, that you hadn’t messed up enough yet.” She lowered her hand and looked at Neil, her gaze dropping a moment to take in all of the scars on his body, the new scratches and bruises before looking him in the eye while anger blazed in hers. “Sophie said that we – me and Meg – were your responsibility. Avery told me it’s only a matter of time before I have to ‘pay’ for my rank. So what all are you doing for us?”

“A very good question,” Jean murmured, only to scowl at Neil when he gave a suture a bit more of a tug than necessary. “It means, ma puce, that this devil has offered up his obedience to Riko in return for being responsible for yo-ah!” His eyes narrowed even more. “ _Traitorous British bastard_.”

“ _Funny, I was thinking something similar about you_ ,” Neil said as he finished with the stitches. “Don’t look at me like that,” he told Marley as the sense of exhaustion grew, along with the need to curl up somewhere far away from people. “I didn’t give away anything important.”

“But you’re looking after us,” she said with a sniff as her eyes grew watery. “You’re putting up with so much and – let me tell-“

“No!” Both Neil and Jean yelled at her, which didn’t do their sore bodies any favors.

“Not only will you put them in danger, but Meg as well. And tonight,” Jean motioned to him and Neil, “will be _nothing_ compared to what happens to us then.”

Marley threw the gauze away and stomped over to the door, only to spin around and face them again, the anger back once more. “How can they be that powerful?”

“Money,” Neil sighed as he dabbed at the cuts on his chest, only for Jean to ease his hand aside to take care of them instead. “Money and the right connections. How do you think the whole theater thing got resolved so quickly? I’m willing to bet Tetsuji or someone he knew made a donation to get the department to go away, rather than bring any negative attention to the team or the school.”

“That’s insane, it’s-“ She was quiet for a moment as she watched Jean tend to Neil’s injuries. “Okay, so what about Kevin Day? He was Perfect Court, too, and now he’s not. Now the Ravens changed districts and all, and Riko seems to have it out for him.”

Neil shook his head, too tired to deal with anything else, so Jean took over explaining things. “He’s not property like us, his mother knew Tetsuji so Tetsuji got custody of him. But he knows about the Moriyamas which isn’t a good thing, and Riko… well, Riko seems to think that Kevin is owed him, for some reason.”

“Riko’s one messed up piece of shit, all right,” she muttered as she looked at the two of them with some sort of resolve. “All right, I still think this is wrong, that there has to be a way we can tell people-“ she held up her hands when Neil went to yell at her again, “but if you say we can’t, we can’t. That doesn’t mean that Riko and Tetsuji get their way because it’s _not right_.”

She was quiet while Jean tended to Neil, and had to help him down from the counter. Both of them went into the other room so he could change into something to sleep, and when he finally left the bathroom, it was to find that Marley was remaking his bed with a grim expression on her face while Jean finished straightening up the room.

Once she was finished, she came over to Neil but stopped when he flinched at her proximity, her expression crumpling a little. “I just… just know that this doesn’t change anything between us, okay? I know he had me brought here because he thought that might happen. But it didn’t.” She shook her head as she glanced around the room. “If you need anything, all you have to do is tell me, either of you.”

“Keep quiet,” Jean said without hesitation. “He’s probably hoping that you run to your parents and say something that’ll get you in trouble, that way he reinforces a lesson to the rest of the team and hurts us at the same time.”

Despite the situation, Marley smiled a little. “So you _would_ miss me if I was gone.”

Jean gave her a blank look in return. “The pain has made me delirious. Go away.”

“You can’t take it back, Crusty.” Neil had the impression that she was striving for some sort of normalcy just then, especially when she faced him again and nodded. “I’m making my parents take me shopping tomorrow, you’ll see.”

She meant the phone, which Neil really needed if his father was getting out of prison in the near future and he now had a chance to talk to his uncle. “Just be careful, don’t say anything to Meg and cover up that bruise.” He reached out to barely touch her left cheek. “It’s too late to say you got it from the game.”

“Yeah, right.” She frowned at that, the expression more of thoughtfulness than upset. “Hmm, I’ll tell her I ran into Avery or something, but yeah, I don’t want my parents to see it.” She summoned up a wan smile as she waved to him and Jean. “Until tomorrow.”

He waved goodbye to her, grateful that she was leaving at last – that he could sink down on Jean’s bed despite the pain in his body and not have to deal with… well, with talking about things, with the reality of what his life had turned into, the Moriyamas, _everything_. As relieved he was that Riko hadn’t tainted his relationship with Marley, he didn’t want to deal with her or anything but just _being_ at the moment.

However, Jean was still there; Neil’s partner slowly stretched out on the bed behind him and, when Neil didn’t pull away, leaned against his back. “ _He was unhappy tonight_.”

There was no need to say who that ‘he’ was, not when they both bore the marks of Riko’s displeasure. “ _Just a little_.” Despite all the soreness, the marks on his chest, the bites and scratches on his back and shoulders, the bruises and- Neil rolled over so he could rest his forehead against Jean’s sternum, mindful of the injuries he’d just stitched closed and bandaged.

“ _And yet you taunted him_ ,” Jean continued as he ran his fingers through Neil’s hair, mindful of the bumps and everything else. “ _Why was that_?”

For a moment Neil was quiet, but in the end – despite what his uncle and Ichirou had said – Jean was his partner, his roommate and friend, was the one person who stood at his back and stitched his broken parts together, who suffered beside him so he deserved the truth. “ _You can’t say anything_ ,” he whispered, almost certain that the room wasn’t bugged because he checked it all the time but unwilling to take any chances.

The fingers stilled for a moment and then resumed the gentle combing as Jean bent his head down closer to Neil’s. “ _All right_.”

“ _Ichirou called me up to the tower so my uncle – my mother’s brother – could see me. The family is negotiating with him, I think to take over for my father in part for revenge. They told me not to tell anyone_.”

Jean was quiet for about a minute after that, his fingers steady through Neil’s hair, the touch soothing to the point that Neil felt a bit sleepy, especially with the pills he’d taken earlier. “ _I see_ ,” Jean finally said. “ _There was no choice_.” He gave a sad laugh at that. “ _There never is, it seems_.”

“ _I’m sorry_ ,” Neil told him as he closed his eyes.

“ _He’s always uncontrollable when he finds out his father or brother was here and didn’t see him. One would think after all these years he would accept that he is nothing to them_.” Jean huffed a little, then winced in pain.

“ _All those declarations that **we’re** nothing, just so he doesn’t have to accept the fact that **he’s** nothing, too_ ,” Neil murmured.

“ _Hush, you impudent devil, one mustn’t point out that the emperor isn’t wearing any clothes_ ,” Jean told him with a wry tone. When Neil mumbled an agreement to that, more or less, Jean gave a light scratch to his aching head. “ _Get some rest. Tomorrow will be trying enough_.”

Quite the understatement. Still, Neil let the pull of the pills drag him into unconsciousness, and managed a couple of hours of sleep before the nightmares jolted him awake with images of flashing knives and cold blue eyes and leering grins. He would struggle to breathe, to remember where he was in such a dark room, until gentle fingers rubbed at his scalp and a quiet French accent told him to go back to sleep.

He fisted his trembling hands in Jean’s t-shirt and did just that, again and again through the night, until the alarm went off in the morning and a new day began in the Nest. There was another pain pill to help his battered body move, more time in the bathroom as he changed some of Jean’s bandages and a couple of his own, as he washed his face and brushed his teeth without looking in the mirror. Every step was painful and practice would be a new kind of torture, but all those years of living on the run had taught him how to force his body to keep on moving well past the point when he thought it should give up. All these months in the Nest had only extended that point, had increased his already impressive tolerance for pain and exhaustion and hunger, which he needed that day as he could only choke down a couple of sips of his morning smoothie.

There were stares from the other Ravens, of course, lingering gazes for a few seconds which were soon diverted away. Federov was smug as always, but for once Riko didn’t seem pleased with himself but closed off. Marley gave Neil and Jean a worried look when they met out on court while Meg appeared ready to cry; when she went to speak, Marley was quick to grab her by the upper left arm and motion for her to be quiet.

Tetsuji actually frowned when he saw them, the expression faint but there in the dip of his thick eyebrows and the deepening of the lines around his thin lips. He ordered Neil and Jean out onto the court once they were done warming up for one hell of a skirmish session; Neil wanted to scream at every hit and slam he took, every time he had to twist around to throw the ball or catch it. Yet he made it through it and so did Jean (judging from the sweat pouring down his partner’s face, Jean felt just as horrible as he did), and if they hadn’t been as aggressive as usual… well, they’d done their best.

Tetsuji continued to frown at them as they left the court; Neil expected something to happen when practice was finally over, considering the way that the man had looked at them the entire time, but in the end they were allowed into the locker room without incident while Riko was held back by his uncle.

They didn’t see the prick until afternoon practice, where Riko was in another foul mood – a mood he took out on Ross, the unlucky bastard, and Lincoln, who had messed up in one of the skirmishes. Neil watched on with a mix of dread and relief, grateful that it wasn’t him bearing the brunt of that madness-fueled temper and anxious that soon enough it would be – him and Jean. Judging from the nervous looks Marley kept sending his and Jean’s way, she was thinking the same thing, and when it came time for everyone to head into the locker rooms at the end of practice, she was dragging her feet even though she was supposed to spend the rest of the day with her parents.

“Go, ma puce. I am tired of seeing your ugly face,” Jean told her while waving her away.

“Yeah, best get out of here before he makes you clean the court,” Neil said while he managed a smile. “That and you need to go shopping, right?”

“Right.” Marley glanced over in Riko’s direction, where the prick was still berating a poor Lincoln. “Take… take care, all right?”

“We’ll be fine,” Neil said, and left before Meg could ask any questions, clearly confused by the whole exchange.

Riko didn’t appear in the locker room or showers, not that Neil and Jean spent much time in there. He didn’t show up while they ate a scant dinner, and they spent an anxious evening in their room before exhaustion caught up to them, curled up together on Jean’s bed.

Sunday was much the same; they could move a little better that day, having settled into the new injuries and working through the pain, a little less tired and a lot more wary. Yet Riko seemed to ignore them and continued to take his anger out on other Ravens.

“ _Would Tetsuji step in_?” Neil asked when they were back in their room after afternoon practice.

Jean was able to put an amazing amount of derision into one scoff. “ _He never has before_.”

“ _But_ -“ Neil frowned as he leaned back against the wall, his bent legs over Jean’s stretched out ones on the bed. “ _Wait, Ichirou said something about sponsors to me. He told me that you and I are to give them what they want, something like that_.” He’d mentioned that to Riko, but then there’d been the pain and he’d forgotten about it. Perhaps Jean had, too. Perhaps Jean hadn’t picked up on it because of what Riko had done to him.

“ _What_?” Jean threw the book he was reading aside to sit up to flick Neil on the forehead. “ _British people with your heads full of wool, I swear. You didn’t think to tell me this-_ “ He seemed to consider that evening then sighed. “ _What all did he say_?”

“Bastard,” Neil muttered without any heat. “Uhm… _he said that I need to keep his interest or something like that, and that since I’m growing popular that there’s been mention of sponsorship deals. That you and I have do what they want_.”

“ _Mary save us_ ,” Jean muttered as he rubbed at his own forehead. “ _Anything else_?”

“ _He was touching my face and seemed to like it when I spoke Japanese_?” Neil added, and regretted it when Jean moaned as if in pain. “ _That was more of the flirting thing, wasn’t it_?”

 _“I thought one had to die before they were eternally tormented with their own personal demon_ ,” Jean remarked as if talking to himself, his expression one of unjust suffering.

“ _Amusing_.” Neil glowered as he tapped his right calf lightly on Jean’s healing legs. “ _So what, you think it has something to do why Tetsuji has Riko on a leash all of a sudden?_ ” At least in regards to them – Ross wasn’t going to last much longer and the rest of the team was on tenterhooks… but Neil couldn’t give much of a damn as long as he and his were all right.

Jean made to flick at his head again and clicked his tongue when Neil caught his hand. “ _It’s possible. If Tetsuji was told that we are to present ourselves for sponsors in the near future and we are like this,“_ he motioned to them, to the exposed bruises and the loose clothes hiding bandages _, “then the main branch will be displeased_.”

Of course, it all came down to money and their value to the Moriyamas in the end. Yet if it meant that Riko had to keep his hands to himself? Neil would put up with whatever those sponsors wanted from him. “They’re going to have fun trying to get a smile out of a crusty baguette like you,” he remarked as he slumped down a little more on the bed.

“Here, let me try to do something about those horns of yours,” Jean declared as he grabbed one of his pillows and swung slowly it at Neil’s head.

“Ha! You’re going to lose, just like your people do at everything they try,” Neil said with a sliver of a smile as he blocked the pillow at first then snatched at it.

Jean’s pale eyes narrowed as he sat back on the bed and did his best to keep Neil from grabbing at his ‘weapon’. “A pathétique rosbifs like you doesn’t stand a chance. Prepare for defeat!”

Of course Marley showed up with Neil’s phone right when the damn pillow ended up ripped in half and the room (along with them) covered in loose feathers.

*******

"Oh, look, rookie couldn't make the shot again!" Gordon sneered as Andrew blocked Yee's attempt on the goal, mentally counting down the minutes until he gave up on practice for the day. They'd won their game on Friday so Wymack, Wilds and Kevin were in overdrive to push the team on for a winning streak, and Andrew had reached his limit on Exy despite the fact that it was a Tuesday. He'd reached his limit on Monday....

It appeared that Yee had reached his limit, too, at least with Gordon's insults and snide comments which had only increased after the banquet. The kid threw aside his racquet and launched himself at the loser, right arm held back in the perfect position to release a roundhouse punch which rocked back Gordon's head, and commenced to pummel the shit out of the upperclassman. Aaron and Nicky whooped it up at first, until Wilds yelled at them while Wymack and Boyd attempted to break up the fight, and Reynolds called the two strikers idiots all the while. As Andrew had predicted, Yee managed to prove the better of the two at fighting despite the fact that Gordon was older and had a few inches and about fifteen pounds on him.

"Yee, in my office," Wymack barked out as he shoved the two in opposite directions, “and Gordon, you get to do laps, now!"

"But I didn't even-"

"You've been firing off that mouth of yours for days, so laps, now!" Wymack glared at the two until they moved, and then directed the look at the rest of the Foxes. "You're not here to stand around!"

Wilds stepped up to have everyone do drills, which Andrew more or less (less) did for the rest of an unenthusiastic practice. There was no sight of Yee when it came time to wash off and return to the dorms, and Gordon of course stormed off in a snit without talking to anyone.

Just another day with the ever well-adjusted Foxes.

Andrew swiped Kevin's phone once they returned to their room and he made certain the Exy junkie was going to remain at his desk with his laptop, busy catching up on the Class I games from the weekend, and went up to the roof to do some catching up on his own. The sky was overcast and the recent rain had washed away the accumulation of ash and cigarette butts from his perch, leaving only a few black marks from where he'd pressed the burning ends of cigarettes when running low to make a pack last longer. As memorials went, it was suitable, he supposed - an uncaring disfigurement which would eventually fade from somewhere he wasn't supposed to be in the first place, where almost no one else came anyway....

Legs dangling in the air and nicotine rushing into his lungs, his blood once more, he pulled up the Instagram app on Kevin's phone and frowned when there were pictures posted at last by the poetic Patel - though just like Renee had told him yesterday, she wasn't 'patel32' anymore, but 'patel25' now. Hmm, someone was moving up in the world, how wonderful. Was it a reward for her actions at the banquet? For insinuating that Andrew had unnatural relations with simians?

Or had Riko been naughty again? Kevin might know, considering how much he paid attention to all the teams' stats. Or Andrew could talk to Renee about the girl. Both options were rather tedious to consider.

Regardless, there was a picture of Josten and Moreau (together again, didn't they know how to function apart?) out on the Edgar Allan campus, where Moreau was in full glower mode at someone in the distance with Josten huddled in what looked to be Moreau's black jacket, considering that it swamped his much slighter figure. 'Someone was a bit cold today - rosbifs froid?'

Andrew supposed that 'cold' was one way to look at it, but there was a telling blankness to Josten's eyes, which were surrounded by dark circles as if from the lack of sleep, and he seemed hunched over more in pain than from any cold weather.

Curtis' posts were just as annoying as always, were of Patel, Josten and Moreau together, with Josten usually sandwiched between the two and Moreau once more scowling as if he'd never had a happy day in his life. There were comments along the lines of 'these are the cuties who will kick your butt' and 'why yes, all this and talent, too'. Josten only smiled in one of the pictures, and even that appeared a bit forced. He also always wore something overlarge, something that covered him from neck to fingertips, and kept his right hand near his pocket.

Something had happened over the week since the banquet, that much was clear if one could spot the signs.

Andrew finished his cigarette and went back downstairs, where he worked on some assignments for the next day before he, Kevin and Nicky went off to the nearest cafe on campus for dinner (Aaron was supposedly busy with something for a biology class - _supposedly_ ). When they returned to Fox Tower, he went into the bedroom while Nicky and Kevin argued over who got to choose what to watch on the television (Exy game versus some stupid show), where he climbed up on his bed and pulled out his own phone for once.

The call went into voicemail, which wasn't a surprise, not considering how much the little birdies spent practicing. Still, he left a voicemail in his most 'cheerful' voice. "Unless you want me to share this number and a few other things on several Exy forums, return my call by noon tomorrow, Frenchie. I have a few questions to ask you." He figured there wasn't any need for names at that point and hung up.

The call came early the next morning, when only the hyper buzz of a fresh dose of drugs helped to keep him awake, that and caffeine, for the detestable morning sessions which Wymack inflicted upon all of the Foxes. Nicky was taking too long in the bathroom, as always, Aaron was getting dressed, Kevin was almost comatose near the kitchen counter, so Andrew went into the living area. "What?"

"Fuck you," Moreau snarled as a conversation starter, followed by a spate of French.

As soon as Valjean fell quiet, Andrew spoke up. "I'm sure all of that was one long 'good morning', how nice. What's going on in that happy little nest of yours, Frenchie?"

"None of your damn business, Doe," Moreau told him with a decided lack of joviality. "Worry about your own miserable mess of a team and leave me alone."

"That's not how this works," Andrew told him while his lips jerked up in a smile, as he tapped his fingers against his right thigh without any thought on his part. "Tell me about the games you dirty birds play with each other before I get nasty. Tell me about Josten and those pretty blue eyes of his." Oh how he hated the fact that he could smile like that even as anger and disgust twisted in his stomach.

Moreau was quiet a little too long - except for his breathing, which was a little too harsh. "Fuck you," he repeated, the words laden with loathing.

"Tell me or I tell on you, isn't it so fun how that works out?"

"You don't have to do anything, and I won't be the one blocking your foul calls," Moreau snapped.

"Aw, are you a tattle-bird?"

"I won't have to do a thing," was the last thing Moreau said before he hung up.

Andrew's smile collapsed into a frown as he stared at his phone, at the disconnected call. Hmm, he hadn't considered the possibility that Moreau's phone would be tapped, his calls monitored. That was a little... no, perhaps it wasn't too much, considering the Moriyamas and Kevin slipping their leash last year. Andrew might have to rethink the direct approach.

For the time being, though, he had practice to suffer through, and finished getting ready for another unbearable day.

Kevin, as always, finally woke up once they were at the gym and hounded everyone to work out properly, which left Andrew surmising on the best way to break one’s legs with a hundred pound weight. Fortunately for the junkie, he soon focused his attention on Yee, who was still a bit sullen after the fight with Gordon, which left Andrew free to ponder the phone call and Moreau's relationship with Josten.

Josten had berated poor Kevin about abandoning people back at the Nest when he'd run from Riko's abuse, had taken what remained of his left hand and free will and fled to Wymack (much to Andrew's growing aggravation). The kid even used a French word back on Ferdinand's show, and Andrew didn't think that had been by accident - he didn't believe Josten said _anything_ by accident when he unleashed that vicious tongue of his. Oh no, the not-rabbit aimed to flay with maximum damage, yes indeed. That spoke of such an interesting childhood, but one topic at a time, Andrew told himself. It was possible that Josten was a _little_ upset with Kevin on Moreau's part, that he was taking the whole partner thing seriously for some reason. There had been the concern he'd shown for Frenchie at the banquet, after all.

Moreau seemed equally invested in the short, mouthy bastard, too, judging from the pictures the two girls had posted - always hovering around Josten, the jacket thing and so forth. The show of rage on the phone just then. It didn't match up to the little bit Kevin had said about the Frenchman... but Kevin had been known to be wrong about things before - which didn't bode well for Andrew now, did it?

Once the Foxes were done with their morning workouts, Andrew threw the keys to the GS to Nicky and left Kevin to his brother for the time being, and waited outside for Renee. Once she came out of the girls' locker room, he gave her a wide grin which made Reynolds eye him with suspicion and Wilds sigh as if tired. "Just the good Christian girl I was looking for. Come walk with me, he said."

"All right." She waved to the other two despite their obvious misgivings (what, Andrew was a _companion_ , a bosom buddy), then came over to his left side. "Is there something you wanted?"

"I want nothing," he told her as he slung his backpack higher up on his shoulder then lit a cigarette. "However, you can tell me what your two charity projects are up to. Any new insights?" Renee hadn't been in a talkative mood on Sunday - neither had Andrew. "I see something has changed with Patel the poet."

"Yes." Renee gave a tug to the useless cross around her neck, which was a tell of sorts. "Dan's excited about how she's made it onto the Ravens' line now, even if she probably won't get much playing time this season. It's a great opportunity for her and... and you don't care," she finished with an exasperated sigh when Andrew blew smoke her way. "Despite the importance of there being another young woman on the Ravens' line, Marley didn't seem very happy for some reason. Meg's more enthused than she is, from what we can pick up from her replies." Renee's expression took on a frustrated edge as she stared ahead of them. "Dan's prodded a little to try to figure things out, but Marley's still guarded around us."

Andrew considered all of that, the possibility of calling Patel himself (and discovering some new insults), before he flicked ash in Renee’s direction. “You suck at this,” he declared. Really, the two of them couldn’t get any useful information at all out of those girls?

Renee gave him an aggrieved look for that comment. “Obviously I should be learning from a master of communication such as yourself,” was all she said before she pulled out her phone and began to tap away on it.

Nothing much else was said until they reached the humanities building where Renee had her first class for the day. “Meg… she did mention something about feeling bad for Williams, about how it was a shame he had to be hurt for Marley to get her chance. We’re under the impression that Marley got on her to not further elaborate on his condition, because she won’t say anything else.”

Hmm. Andrew would check with Kevin, certain that he would know more details about this ‘Williams’, but it sounded as if _someone_ had played a little too rough, more than likely, which had resulted in a broken birdy. “Interesting.” In a ‘oh, look at all the wonderful destruction’ type of way. Andrew could admire the aesthetics as long as they were long-distance and not fucking things up for him.

“I just….” Renee seemed to consider something as she looked at the doorway where students rushed in and out of for their next class, most of them grouped together. “The Ravens are always paired, yes?” She waited for Andrew to nod. “Neil and Jean, Marley and Meg… and Kevin and Riko. We’re seeing how the girls are tied together, and even Neil with Jean. Kevin’s always nervous if someone’s not around, isn’t he?” Of course she’d pick up on that, on how Kevin always functioned better if Andrew or one of the other ‘monsters’ were nearby. “But what about Riko? He still doesn’t have a partner, does he?” Renee pointed out as she gazed once more at Andrew. “He’s clearly waiting for Kevin to come back in one way or another, but what’s it doing to him until then to be alone?”

“Ask me if I care,” Andrew told her as he gave her a two-fingered salute while walking away… but it was a valid question just the same. Riko had been the one to bust up his ‘happy’ little twosome by taking a racquet to Kevin’s hand, after all. One shouldn’t break one’s toys if one wasn’t prepared for the consequences, but Riko was ever the spoiled little shit and used to getting his way. Now he was in an enforced time-out of sorts, all alone in the corner and no playmates to be found, so he had apparently decided to break whatever toys he could find.

He was breaking the rest of the Ravens around him.

Part of Andrew thought the fools deserved it since they’d signed up for the fucked-up team… except Josten and Moreau hadn’t signed up _willingly_ , had they? According to Kevin, Josten (Wesninski) had done his best to get as far away from the Ravens as possible, had tried to run as soon as he’d realized that Kevin had found him.

Only to be stopped by Andrew and ratted out by Gordon’s forum post.

Andrew felt… there was an odd tension inside of him, an unsettledness that both perplexed and aggravated him despite the manic buzz of the meds. So he found it fitting when Gordon and Reynolds got into a huge screaming match at that afternoon’s practice, apparently weeks’ of tension between them coming to a head over Gordon being a slacker and sabotaging the team and a bunch of other shit that Andrew couldn’t care less about so he tuned it out while Wymack and Wilds dealt with the drama.

During the night’s practice while Kevin fired shots at the goal, Andrew attempted to call Moreau once more, and found the number blocked. It wasn’t a surprise, not after their morning conversation, but for some reason it provoked Andrew to throw his old phone down onto concrete surface in the home box with enough force that the device broke. He stared at the pieces for at least a minute with a wide grin on his face before he shrugged and lay back down on the bench to wait out the Exy junkie busy on the court, his mind filled with images of furious blue eyes and huddled small forms in overlarge black jackets.

He slammed Nicky into the wall when his cousin commented on him picking up a new model of phone the next day, about how it was time that Andrew finally joined the current century, and warned the pest to not bother him with all the senseless texts and shit he sent Aaron every day. Aaron, who was once again ‘busy’ at the library with a project for class. Between the phone, Aaron, and Kevin gloating on a suddenly focused (re: whipped) Gordon at practice that day… Andrew grabbed his new phone, a half-empty bottle of whiskey and retreated up to the roof.

In-between sips of whiskey and drags on a couple of cigarettes, Andrew stared at the screen of his new phone and the Instagram account he’d just set up, at the image of an exhausted looking Josten slumped against Moreau, who appeared thoughtful instead of a grouchy bastard for once. Patel’s comment indicated a difficult English exam being the cause of Josten’s lack of sleep, but Andrew noticed that Moreau’s eyes were shaded as well.

He also noticed that pictures of the two partners received quite a few likes, reposts and comments, which was probably why Patel and Curtis continued to post them. Riko was the most popular Raven by far, but Josten and Moreau weren’t too far behind, and even Patel and Curtis had a following of their own despite being freshmen because of their association with two players ‘marked’ for the Perfect Court and that the fans appeared to like their comments.

It was all so stupid, pandering to the fans like that… but even several of the Foxes had some sort of online presence in an attempt to improve the team’s image (an effort doomed to failure). As if people could believe the pretty little pictures, the fake smiles and illusions put out there for them to fawn over and consume. Of Riko smiling all bright and happy, pretending to be something other than a psychopath. Of the Ravens appearing well-adjusted and normal.

Then again, Andrew was well acquainted with how people tended to see what they wanted to see, how they wanted the happy lies and not the ugly truth lurking below.

It was a home game on Friday night against the University of North Florida’s Ospreys. Andrew found some irony in playing against another team of birdies, although they were dressed in blue and grey instead of black and red.

They weren’t the Ravens, but they were still good enough to give the Foxes grief. Yet for once Gordon wasn’t getting into fights with the other players or Kevin, wasn’t working against Nicky, Matt and Aaron. For once, the Foxes were pulling together and working as an actual team.

Andrew may have paid a bit of attention while in the goal for the first half of the game – he didn’t shut it down, but he made the Ospreys work for the two goals they scored against him, and Renee only gave up four in the second half. The Foxes still won by two point in the end.

Kevin was insufferable on the drive to Columbia, until Andrew had to smack him in the back of the head to get him to shut up about the game, about how the Foxes were finally coming together and had a shot of getting at least past the death match rounds that season and how they needed to start-

 _Boring_.

They stopped at Sweeties’ so they could pick up a dozen or so packets of cracker dust, and after getting some in him (along with ice cream) to help with the withdrawals from his meds, they ended up at Eden’s. Andrew left the others at a table and went up to the bar to get the first round of the night.

As always, Roland came sauntering over once he was free. “Hey, you, the usual?”

By way of answer, Andrew tapped the folded bills in his right hand on top of the bar, which made the bartender laugh; Roland was dressed in a form-fitting black t-shirt sporting the club’s logo and equally tight leather pants; Andrew’s gaze trailed over the impressive physique on display while Roland worked on the drinks and waited to see if any interest stirred within, if that night would be one where he slipped back into a storeroom to vent a bit of frustration. Yet when Andrew looked at him, he thought about Josten, about the bruised wrist and Moreau’s reaction during the phone call and any desire Andrew had died beneath anger and that simmering sense of twisted frustration.

As soon as the tray of drinks was assembled, Roland gave Andrew a knowing grin and nodded a little toward the back of the club while motioning to the full tray. “So… you need a hand with that?”

That was one of the ways for Roland to see if Andrew was interested in anything more than drinks that night, to which Andrew shook his head. “No, I got it.” It wasn’t a good night, not with too many issues churning beneath the surface.

Roland had the grace to appear upset for a moment, as if he couldn’t easily find someone else to take Andrew’s place in about ten minutes or less. “Okay, hope you guys have fun.” He swiped the money left on the bar with a smile, already turning to someone else since Fridays always were busy as hell in Eden’s. Andrew was quick to pick up the tray and leave, eager to get some alcohol and cracker dust in him, and certain that the others were waiting impatiently for him as well.

He stayed at the table while Nicky and Aaron made drunken fools of themselves on the dance floor, while Kevin drank too much and checked scores on his phone all night. Andrew might have spent a little too much time puzzling out a picture of what looked to be Moreau putting himself between Josten and a Ravens’ cheerleader, at the way Josten’s fingers were clenched around the strap of his bag and the way his gaze was focused in the distance as if looking for something. He didn’t seem pleased to be caught in the impromptu pep rally, to be surrounded by all those people.

Andrew wouldn’t have, either.

Saturday was sleeping in, was not having to put up with Exy practice or the noise of the dorm since they were at the house in Columbia, though it was still the four of them in one shared space. Kevin and Nicky were always the worst with their hangovers and took the longest to wake up, and Kevin hung out in the den so he could watch his stupid Exy games since Nicky and Aaron commandeered the television in the living room for games or movies. Andrew had just gone into the kitchen for another pint of ice cream (chocolate caramel crunch that time) when his phone rang.

Thinking it might be Bee to tell him something, he frowned when an unknown number came up instead. Deciding to play along, he answered it. “If you’re trying to sell me something, fuck off.”

“Funny, that’s the point of this call,” Josten told him in a voice tight with fury. “Me telling _you_ to fuck off, you meddling piece of shit.”

Andrew leaned against the fridge instead of opening the freezer, all of a sudden interested in talking. “Well now, should I be honored? I reached out to Valjean and I get the Butcher’s son instead, what a surprise.”

“Don’t ever bother Jean again,” Josten ordered in a rush. “Leave him the fuck alone.”

“Or?” Andrew hummed a little into the silence then clicked his tongue. “Come now, you so loved to talk the last time we saw each other. Some birdy got your tongue?”

Josten scoffed at the jab, which admittedly wasn’t one of Andrew’s best. “I’m not you, Doe, I’m not stupid enough to get caught or to give you anything to hold against me. I’m just telling you to leave Jean the fuck alone.”

Oh, but Andrew had wanted to get caught, if Josten was referring to the little stint in juvie. When it really mattered? Then Andrew could be more than careful – it seemed that Josten could be, too. How very, very interesting indeed. “I’m not the one with the tapped phones, remember.” Then he thought about the unknown number. “Or is it? Is that why _you_ called _me_?” Very interesting indeed.

“That’s right, you called Jean on a bugged line, you fucking bastard. But then again, you seem to live to cause us grief, don’t you?” Josten accused with such vitriol that the words were barely understandable. “Fuck with me if you dare, but don’t ever bring anything down on Jean again. _Ever_.”

Calculating that he only had a second or two before Josten ended the call and blocked him, too, Andrew rushed to speak. “Then make it worth my while,” he offered. “I’ll leave your partner alone if you talk to me.”

There was silence for several seconds, but Josten didn’t end the call. “What the hell do you want?” Now he sounded confused – confused and exhausted. “Haven’t you done enough to me? Are you that much of a damn sadist?”

More like a damn masochist, but one thing at a time. “You’re the one who said to fuck with you and not Moreau, so I’m taking you up on it,” Andrew drawled. “I won’t bother him again, won’t try to reach out to him, now is it a deal?” If Josten was as protective of his partner as Andrew thought he was….

“You or any of the Foxes,” Josten argued. “All of you leave him alone.”

“We will, so is it a deal?”

“I can’t talk all of the time, I don’t have a lot of privacy,” Josten told him. “If they find out about this phone, it won’t be good.”

“I’ll text you about calls,” Andrew agreed, suspicions confirmed that Josten somehow had gotten his hands on an untapped phone. “And it won’t be often.” But it would take forever to get any real answers of value out of Curtis and Patel, that and defuse the growing threat which Josten posed to Kevin through them. This was the best way to go about it, in Andrew’s opinion.

There was another pause as Josten seemed to consider. “Betray me again and you’ll regret it,” he told Andrew, menace all too clear in his voice. “It’s a deal.”

They’d have to work on that whole ‘betray’ thing, since Andrew hadn’t been the one to do it in the first place. Why was there never any rest for the wicked? “Wonderful, I foresee so many pleasant conversations in our future.”

“You’re a backstabbing, psychotic extortionist, go fuck yourself on a large, sharp object and die,” Josten snarled before hanging up.

Ah yes, pleasant conversations indeed. Andrew hummed as something perilously close to satisfaction filled him while he shoved the phone into his pocket then grabbed the pint of ice cream.

*******

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *******  
> There you have it. We finally have a way for the boys to speak to (insult) each other. Stuart!!! Marley's in on it! Things are getting a little better for our favorite bickering birdies. Well, relatively speaking. 
> 
> Next chapter is the Foxes vs Ravens. That's going to be so fun, isn't it? I mean, Neil and Andrew are best buds now and everything. 
> 
> A new chapter of Heartlines is due, but next week is going to be busy. Hopefully it'll be out next weekend. 
> 
> As always, the comments and kudos are greatly appreciated.


	7. Burning Our Morals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is a long one. Some familiar TRK ground in this one. And with each chapter post I'm convinced this fic is just... WHY DO I DO THIS TO MYSELF? OMFG.... I don't see this one ending any time soon, oh no. 
> 
> *whimpers*
> 
> Uhm, I don't think there's anything that needs to be brought up with the trigger warnings for once - very brief mention of Andrew's past and past events in the fic but that's it?  
> *******

*******

Neil struggled to remain awake as Nakamura went over the Foxes’ stats; with less than two weeks to the game at Palmetto State, the Ravens were spending more time preparing for that team than for their home game against the UVA’s Cavaliers on Friday. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that Tetsuji and Riko intended for the Ravens to decimate Day and his new team.

So far, Neil only saw two challenges – Matt Boyd, their best backliner (which was relatively speaking, compared to Jean and the rest of the Ravens’ starting defense), and Andrew Minyard whenever the psychotic bastard gave a damn. There was a reason why Kevin Day had done his best to recruit the goalie for the Ravens’ a couple of years ago, why he believed that Minyard was worthy of being considered for the Perfect Court. There were moments of brilliance in the bastard’s defense, when Neil couldn’t believe the amount of talent Minyard possessed, how he could block all shots on the goal without even seeming to pay attention… but they were few and far between. How could someone be _that_ good and supposedly not care about Exy? Not give his all for each and every game?

Neil didn’t understand that, couldn’t grasp the concept of being able to step out on the court whenever one wanted and not pushing themselves to be better, to perfect the violent and thrilling game that was Exy. Even while trapped at Evermore and being Moriyama property, while existing on barely a couple of hours a sleep at night and one small meal a day thanks to Riko fucking Moriyama, he lived for the moments when he was playing, when he had a racquet in his hand and was chasing after an Exy ball.

Andrew Minyard might not give a damn, but _Neil_ did, and Neil was going to do everything he could to beat the bastard on Palmetto State’s own court, in that ridiculous stadium of orange and white. That Riko had already given him an ultimatum to do so was only part of it, but he _owed_ it to best the smirking bastard who had helped to land him in this current state of hell, who had insulted Jean and gotten his partner into trouble (the both of them in trouble) with Tetsuji by doing something so _stupid_ as _calling_ as if he had any damn right to speak to Jean. Who then turned around and blackmailed Neil into talking to him for some damn reason.

It was going to take some thought on how to go about it, if Minyard decided to be serious for once about guarding the goal – which Neil was willing to bet he would, just to piss off Riko. Neil rubbed at his face, his eyes aching from the lack of sleep, his thoughts fuzzy and stomach clenching since he hadn’t eaten since dinner the night before. For a moment the room wavered in front of him, Nakamura’s voice fading in and out, and then Jean’s left hand clamped down on his right shoulder until he dragged in a deep breath and focused once again.

Nakamura continued for a few more minutes, during which Neil stayed awake by translating the man’s words into French and the basic Japanese he knew, and then the team watched video clips of the Foxes for another twenty minutes (again, he mentally translated everything he saw) before they were finally allowed out on the court for afternoon practice. There was another rush of dizziness upon standing up, but Neil clenched his teeth and kept moving, his gaze focused on the door leading out to the court; he had plenty of experience in staying on his feet when food and sleep were scarce. Granted, it usually had been because his mother and he hadn’t dared to stop running due to the people chasing after him, that or they were short of cash or other resources, not because Riko had decided to punish him and Jean that way since outright physical abuse wasn’t an option.

Still, Neil and Jean were losing weight from the lack of food and struggling to remain on their feet once out on the court. They had no option but to play, to do their best and participate in all of the practices and classes, but it was growing more difficult to get up each time Neil was knocked down. To tell which way was up, to remember which goal he was aiming for during the scrimmage (Anders, right?). During it all, the one true thing he could count on was Jean, that _Jean_ wouldn’t knock him down, wouldn’t trip him, would block the bastard charging at him and send him the ball for another goal. Just like Neil would shove away whoever tried to take Jean down, would trip them and smile as he hooked their racquets together so he could slam them into wall and allow the momentum to carry him along and jam his elbow in right next to their spine and-

Why was there yelling? It was… there was yelling and it was Japanese and he recognized the words yet they didn’t make any sense, and then there was someone grabbing at him, was someone trying to pull him away from the body slumping to the floor but he wouldn’t be _touched_ , he didn’t _like_ to be touched so he slammed his racquet into their abdomen before he swept it out around him, swept it out to keep them _away_ , to _hurt_ , to take them down and-

“Neil. _Neil_! _Now is not the time to be your usual devil self. The scrimmage is over_.”

Oh. That was _Jean_. Neil blinked a couple of times, dizzy once more and mind even more filled with a fugue as he lowered his racquet so he could lean against it while his legs threatened to give out. “ _Did we win_?”

“ _Yes_.” Jean removed his helmet as he stepped forward; for some reason the rest of the scrimmage team hung far back, save for Federov who was hunched over near the wall and Loiseau a couple of feet away and dry heaving. “ _Are you done beating everyone up_?”

“Eh?” Neil frowned at that comment and looked at the two older players again, before he gave a slight shrug and kicked Federov in the ribs. “ _What are you talking about_ , _I was playing Exy_.”

Jean wavered a little on his feet as he looked upward (at the ceiling lights) as if beseeching the heavens. “ _You truly are a curse sent to_ -“

“Josten. Moreau.”

They both stiffened at the sound of Tetsuji’s deep, monotone voice, both braced for what most likely would be some new punishment of sorts, especially since a grim-faced Riko trailed behind his uncle. The Ravens out on the court parted way for their ‘Master’, a couple like Tollis and Bautista smirking as if eager to hear Neil and Jean’s latest fate, while Ivanova and McPherson winced in sympathy.

Neil scrambled to stand next to Jean so that they presented a united front (and to get away from a groaning Federov), and managed a shaky bow to Tetsuji once the man came to a stop a few feet away. Tetsuji eyed Federov’s prone form and Loiseau, who scurried to stand up and wipe his face clean, then regarded Neil and Jean with a dispassionate expression. “Josten, why did you use excessive force on Federov and then Loiseau?”

“I….” Neil frowned as he considered the question and fought to remain standing still since the dizziness returned. “I… was it excessive? Sir?” he added in haste as his befuddled brain attempted to catch up. Federov got in his way and Loiseau had tried to touch him, so he’d done what he’d been taught to do – hadn’t he?

Tetsuji regarded him for a few more seconds before raising his left hand, the one closest to Riko. “ _Their punishment ends_ ,” he told his nephew in Japanese.

“ _But_ -“

“ _Enough_.” There was a rare hint of censure in Tetsuji’s voice then, enough for Riko to press his lips together in a thin line. “ _I will not risk Friday’s game on your behalf, they have been punished enough_.” At least, that’s what Neil assumed was said, he was still working on some tenses and while he was well past what his beginner’s class was studying after several months at the Nest, he was probably intermediate level at best.

Riko looked as if he was ready to hit something, but there was little he could do now that his uncle had pulled rank. Instead, he sneered at Neil and Jean. “Get off the court. Go play with your little freshmen for the rest of the practice, and no more extra sessions tonight. I expect a better showing out of you tomorrow.” There was no need for him to elaborate past that.

Jean gave a slight bow, and for once Neil did, too, without any encouragement. “ _Yes, captain_ ,” they both said at the same time before walking away while Riko yelled at Loiseau to clean up the mess he’d made on the precious court.

Once they were on the inner court, Marley was there with bottles of water for them and Meg with the energy bars she’d been trying to sneak them for the past several days, which they’d refused to accept rather than get her into trouble. “You can have them now, right?” she asked, her blue eyes shimmering with tears as always when she attempted to get them to eat.

“Yes, mon lapin, we can,” Jean told her as he accepted the bars while Neil took the waters from Marley; they went to sit down on a bench while they ate, having to take small bites and sips at first so they weren’t sick. For once, Neil didn’t even mind that the bars were chocolate flavored (well, chocolate chalk flavored), and thanked Meg with a weary smile as he leaned against Jean.

“You can get some sleep now, too, right?” Marley asked as she eyed them up and down. “Because you look like shit, both of you. I don’t even think Jean’s done his hair in two days, which is unheard of.” She was right, of course – Jean’s thick black hair was rather limp lately, but he at least made sure it covered the faint scars on his forehead, like always.

Jean crumpled up the wrapper in his hand and threw it in her face. “Go to hell with this devil here, right now.”

“Aw, you know you’d miss us, you crusty baguette you!” Marley made a kissing gesture at him and laughed when Jean snatched Neil’s wrapper and threw it at her, too. “In all seriousness,” she said as Meg picked up the trash, “we’ll skip the night practice tonight so you two can catch up on some sleep.”

“Well, we’ll be out here, but yes, just crash tonight,” Meg told them. “You make me feel so tired just looking at you.”

Neil almost argued against that… but the truth was, he knew he’d have enough problems getting through the evening practice as it was after maybe ten hours of sleep in about a week. Still, they had a couple of days left before facing the Cavaliers and then they had to devote everything to preparing for the Foxes. “Instead of working on drills or whatever, I want you to watch any videos you can find where Minyard’s in the goal,” he told Marley. “We need to be ready for him on the 13th.”

She paused in sipping her water to think about that. “Just him, not Renee Walker?”

“Walker’s good, but Ivanova and Anders are better. No, even though he’s an asshole, Minyard’s got the reflexes and the instincts that’ll make him a threat in the goal.” Neil groaned as he rubbed at the tense muscles in his neck, wanting nothing more than to just lie down and go to sleep right then. “I’m sure Day is going to tell the Foxes everything he can about how Riko and the Ravens play, they need some sort of advantage against us. But you’re new to the line and I’ve only had one season before this year, and we’re both fast.” He gave her a tired grin, which strengthened when she grinned back. “Day doesn’t know _us_ very well.”

“No, he doesn’t, and I’m not letting that stunted monkey-fucker or that rotten traitor show us up,” Marley all but snarled. She looked over at Meg. “Are you?”

Meg tugged on a strand of her pale brown hair which had escaped from the loose ponytail the rest of it was pulled back in before she sighed. “I really like Renee and Dan, but I know they’re going to do their best to beat us so I can’t hold back, either. I’m in. Maybe there’s some dealer’s tricks we can work on that’ll confuse him?”

“Hmm, now that you mention it, Max taught me some hockey stuff that I think might work.”

Neil gave Marley an odd look for that. “Except we’re not on ice and not using a puck.”

“No, just some blocking techniques with the shoulders and hips, you snarky devil. Maybe even a couple of low throws, too.” She rolled her eyes while Jean actually smiled. “We’ll give it a try, at the least it should confuse the hell out of people, yes?”

Neil exchanged a look with Jean, who shrugged. “Yes, it’s worth a try. One thing you’re better at than Riko is playing longer, so that would put you and Marley in together during the fourth quarter.”

Yes, thanks to spending most of the day out on court and with the last week’s punishment on top of it, Neil could probably play most of a game at that point. How wonderful. “All right then, the two of you can have fun tonight figuring things out,” he told the girls.

“Now time for drills,” Jean reminded them as he stood up, a slight groan slipping past his lips and his tall form dipping forward for a moment before Neil threw out an arm for his partner to catch. There was another slight smile, that time in thanks, before they finished the practice by working with Marley and Meg.

Once they washed off and were dressed in clean clothes (Neil’s attention had been on Riko the entire time, just waiting for the psychotic bastard to lash out at him or Jean, but it seemed that poor Ross was still the whipping boy of the moment), Jean led Neil to the nearest break room, where Jean had a precious cup of coffee and Neil some tea to help them stay awake while they studied before dinner – a full meal for once, which again was eaten slowly while Meg prattled on about her classes (and handed over her apple to Neil) and Marley talked about the videos she’d already found on Minyard (Neil would get on her about skipping homework, but her grades so far that semester were fine. Which was good, because he was counting on her to help him pass English).

Evening practice went a lot better, now that Neil had some food in him, though Tetsuji didn’t have Neil or Jean participate in any scrimmages. Grateful for the ‘break’, they worked some more with Meg until Marley was done taking on the upperclassmen, and then Jean had the fun of mocking the three of them as they attempted to come up with some ideas for Neil and Marley to stymie Minyard’s defense. It was frustrating and exhausting and Neil almost smacked his own partner over the head with a racquet several times… but in the end, he and Marley had some ideas.

When the practice was finished, Tetsuji waved the four of them over. “What are you doing?” As always, his expression gave nothing away, nor did his accented voice – he could be entirely disgusted with them at the moment and ready to throw them off of the team, or merely curious.

Or both.

Neil waited until Jean nodded to him to speak. “Sir, Patel and I are hoping to figure out a new maneuver or two against the Foxes’ defense.”

Tetsuji seemed to consider the explanation for a couple of seconds. “And why is that? Two of the least experienced players on the team, and you think you manage such a feat?”

“It’s because we’re the newest, sir,” Neil argued. “Day barely knows me,” he couldn’t mention his past as a backliner in front of the girls, “and he’s never played against Patel. Besides, he’ll consider _Riko_ as the main threat, not us.”

“Sir,” Jean spoke up as he gave Tetsuji a respectful bow of his head. “Isn’t there the saying that a swordsman should fear not the expert but the novice when it comes to a sword fight? Right now we’re unleashing two novices upon Kevin and Minyard – I can’t speak for mongrel, but you know how Kevin is.”

“Mmm.” Tetsuji regarded Neil and Marley for couple of seconds before he nodded once to Jean. “You are right. After tonight, you will practice such things on your own time. They will be perfected come next Friday.” He gave one more nod before he walked away.

The four of them were quiet for about half a minute before Marley let out a shaky laugh. “Right, no pressure or anything.” Yet she smiled at Neil and made a little fist-pump in the air. “I’m gonna play against the Foxes!”

While Meg clapped her hands together, Jean pinched the bridge of his nose. “I would pray that this is all one massive hallucination, but I have not been so lucky since that British devil has inflicted himself upon my life.”

Meanwhile, Neil just tugged off the black bandana holding back his hair. “Can I go to bed now? _Please_?” All he wanted was about ten hours or so of sleep – he would deal with Riko and Tetsuji and impending doom in the morning.

Meg gasped before she made shooing motions at him and Jean. “Oh my god! Of course! Get going, both of you! Go!”

“Great, we have your approval,” Neil said as he spun around, a little uncertain on his feet, and headed to the locker room with Meg chiding him to get some rest and Marley taking his and Jean’s racquets so that was one less thing they had to worry about for the night.

Riko wasn’t in the locker room or the showers by the time they got there, nor were about half of the men’s part of the team, but the two of them didn’t waste any time in washing off or hurrying to their room. The last thing Neil wanted was being hauled off to the East Tower to deal with Ichirou or his father’s people, or any of the pecking order shit that the Ravens threw in each other’s faces from time to time.

Which of course Federov tried to do out in the hallway, once they left the locker room. The tall bastard was leaning near the door, which made Neil flinch back as soon as he saw the backliner.

“What?” Neil snapped, his skin crawling from just being near the sadistic bastard.

His left eye black and blue from being slammed into the wall by Neil earlier in the day, Federov leered as he shifted closer. “I wanted to-“ Whatever he was about to say was lost as Jean shoved his right hand into the bastard’s ugly face.

“And I want you to go away.” Jean’s voice was pure ice as he used muscles built up from years of playing Exy, of blocking people’s attempts at the goal, to push Federov with enough force that the upperclassman yelped in pain as he stumbled backwards.

“You asshole!” Federov seethed as he attempted to step forward, but Jean was against Neil’s back and had his arm outstretched to keep the bastard at bay. “What do you-“

“ _Go away_ ,” Jean repeated. “Riko isn’t here which means you have no power, you never really do. You only have the scraps he gives,” he sneered. “Now fuck off, fils de pute.”

Neil had never seen Federov appear as shocked as just then, and for a moment he thought that the backliner would try something. But Jean outranked him, was number Three, was _the_ starting backliner… and Riko had left him physically alone ever since that one terrible night. That and Jean was right – Federov couldn’t do anything that Riko hadn’t approved, that Riko didn’t command.

“Soon enough your pretty little partner will piss Riko off again, and I’ll make _him_ pay for this, Moreau,” Federov snarled before he stomped off. As they (and several others in the hall) watched him leave, Neil could feel the tension in his partner’s body at those parting words.

“ _Thank you_ ,” he told Jean even as he slid his right hand out of his pocket, as he let go of the knife. “ _And he’s not going to do anything new to me that he hasn’t before, so don’t let him bother you_. _Now let’s go to bed before I fall sleep right here_.”

Jean huffed a little as he relaxed and gave Neil’s damp hair a quick tousle. “ _Get moving, because I’m not carrying you the rest of the way, you lazy devil_.”

“What happened to that fluffy, soft center of yours, mon baguette?” Neil complained as he was given a gentle shove forward.

“I’m beginning to think that I can’t send you back to hell because you have already dragged me down into it,” Jean muttered as he gave Neil another push, which made him laugh.

Once in their room, Neil gave his teeth the most cursory of brushes and changed into a pair of sweat pants and a sweatshirt of Jean’s which he’d ‘claimed’ as his before he stretched out on Jean’s (his) bed. It didn’t take long for Jean to get ready, too, and once dressed in a similar manner, he checked the alarm clock before he climbed in behind Neil, his right arm draped over Neil’s waist.

With Jean tucked in behind him and the knife beneath his pillow, Neil could finally rest for the night; his back was protected and the person he cared about the most was safe next to him. For once there was no dreams that night, no horrors from the past thrown at him because he was too exhausted to do anything but close his eyes and then jolt awake when the alarm went off the next morning.

Judging from Jean’s displeased groan, it was the same for him – sleeping deeply until the morning, and Neil smiled when his partner spent a few minutes in the bathroom fussing with his hair, even when he knew it was less a case of vanity but Jean hiding the years of Riko’s abuse.

“ _Is that a grey hair I see_?” he teased as they made their way to morning practice.

“ _How I miss the days when redheads were burned at the stake as witches_ ,” Jean remarked as he stared straight ahead.

“ _Oh! You saw it too, didn’t you_!”

Judging from the mix of French and Japanese curses sent his way, Neil wisely decided to make his own kale-free smoothie that morning, yet he noticed the smile twitching at the corners of his partner’s mouth.

It was a good thing that they finally got some rest, because Riko kept his promise about putting them through their paces once they were out on the court, but Neil and Jean were ready for him with a couple of meals (more or less) and a full night’s sleep in them; life had taught them to hoard every break they could get and to make it count, to push hard on very little. Neil didn’t know how long of a reprieve they would have (certainly not past him failing to get enough points against Minyard/the Foxes the following Friday, no matter what Ichirou or Tetsuji wanted).

Despite the usually pummeling that Neil took on the court, it was worth it to hold his own, to score the goals and stand his ground, to dish out some hits and takedowns of his own. He was always going to be one of the smaller if not the smallest player on the court… but he’d also be one of the faster if not the fastest. He’d also spent his life learning how to take the blows and to get back up on his feet again, how to always be aware of his surroundings, and all of that gave him one hell of an advantage that the other players didn’t have and couldn’t learn.

Players like Day and Riko might have all but grown up with an Exy racquet in their hands, had been raised on Ravens drills until impossible shots were like breathing to them, but Neil had an almost sixth sense on where Riko and the ball were at all times, where he needed to be to catch the shot Jean would be sending him and to get out of Federov’s way. If there was one thing his months with the Ravens had done, it was to hone that sense, to make him hyperaware when out on the court – a court where any one of the players could hurt him (except for Jean) in their eagerness to take his place, his number.

They were a specialized breed, Edgar Allan Ravens. They were smart and vicious and insular and damn near cannibalistic with the way that they could turn on each other.  Yet they were also steadfast in the way that they would stand as a whole, would stand as one against the world.

You were a Raven or you were nothing.

That was made clear whenever Neil went out on the campus with either Jean or Marley (or both) at his side, at the way the other students would whisper his name and/or number but would never approach. The thing with the theater petition aside, Edgar Allan students seemed to treat the Ravens as if beings from an alternate dimension, as people who could be seen and heard but not touched. They didn’t bother Neil and Marley about their homework or projects, they didn’t ask them about their weekends or what they did when outside of the class, they didn’t talk about the games other than a hastily mumbled ‘great game on Friday’ or ‘good luck!’. The most any other student ever bothered Neil were the team’s cheerleaders (‘pep’ squad, Meg told him with a disapproving look). Even that was merely along the lines of ‘smile for the fans!’ or ‘can I take a picture with you?’.

Neil didn’t _want_ to interact with anyone other than the Ravens (and barely with any of them). He didn’t understand ‘normal’ people, didn’t understand how someone lived a life without fear and pain and being able to do whatever you wanted, of choosing your own future without worrying about terrible repercussions or a horrible death. He didn’t understand how one lived a life without it being built on nothing but lies and sacrifice – other people’s sacrifice at that.

He didn’t understand looking at one’s face in the mirror each morning and either recognizing it or being able to stomach it.

So no, he didn’t want anything to do with them.

Friday evening was the game with the JD Lions, which Marley sat out per their ‘plan’ to take on the Foxes the following week; they didn’t want to give Day or Minyard the chance to see her on the court, to anticipate her playing style any more than they already could from the previous week or by digging up her old high school games (not that they would really help, considering how much she’d improved since then). Neil played like always, working hard to score a few goals of his own while also supporting Riko, and all the while dodging the opposite team as they did their best to take him out, to put a ‘rookie’ like him in his place.

That wasn’t going to happen with a pathetic team like the JD Lions, who were even worse than the team last week. Neil smiled as Riko swore in disgust about wasting his time playing such talentless losers, while Jean sneered each time he blocked their players and Ivanova started calling out to Neil in Russian about how bored she was, just standing there doing nothing. Neil even took to zigzagging along the court a little to make things interesting as no one on the Lions’ side could keep up with him, to make it more of a challenge when he threw the shots to Riko for a goal.

The Ravens won with one of the largest point gaps in NCAA Class I division history that night, which ensured that they would be far in the lead of the Southeast division come the end of the year. The JD Lions barely stuck around long enough to shake their hands out on the court, while Riko was all smiles as he headed off to give the press an interview.

Still a bit tired and looking forward to a hot soak and then sleeping, Neil leaned against an equally weary Jean while Nakamura gave them a quick wrap-up of the game (no one was being called in to deal with Tetsuji that night, it seemed). Relieved that it should be a quiet night, Neil didn’t pull away fast enough before Jean rubbed at his hair while calling him a devil, which made Marley, Meg and Ivanova laugh.

“Bastard,” Neil complained when he was let go after a couple of seconds, his eyes narrowed but a smile tugging at his lips.

“One of these days someone’s going to catch you out there and you’re going to end up in Susan’s goal.”

“Ha, he’s so tiny that I doubt I can block him,” Ivanova remarked as they headed to the locker rooms.

“Very funny.” Neil glared at his traitor of a partner and the goalkeeper while Marley and Meg laughed.

“She has a point,” Meg said while motioning to the top of Neil’s head. “Even my brother is bigger than you, and he’s _ten_.”

“Fuck off.” Neil backed up the words with a rude gesture, but Meg just laughed some more and waved to him as she went to the girls’ locker room.

“Come, mon petit diable, time to shower,” Jean called out as he gave a tug to Neil’s jersey. “You reek.”

“No more than you do.” Still, Neil longed to be clean and immersed up to his chin in wonderful hot water so he went along with the bastard. Of course it was his luck to have Nakamura show up as they were shedding their uniforms to inform them that they only had a few minutes to clean up and report in the hallway.

 _Both_ of them.

So much for a nice, relaxing soak.

Neil did his best to think of what they might have done to warrant being called to Tetsuji or up to the East Tower, and he couldn’t imagine anything but the phone – had someone discovered the burner phone? Had they traced the call and texts with Minyard? If that was the case, Neil would argue that _he_ was the one who had gotten the device (without incriminating Marley) and take the brunt of the punishment, would claim that Jean didn’t know about it, even though his friend did and was furious about Minyard’s insistence that they talk now and then.

As soon as they washed off and were dressed in their black track suits, they went out to find a blank-faced Nakamura waiting for them, and were led along the familiar (to Neil at least) path to the East Tower. Much like the last time, there were students out in the parking lot celebrating the Ravens’ win, was the raucous noise of raised voices and car horns and blaring music. Neil flinched when there was what sounded to be gunshots but what turned out to be fireworks being set off, of all things, only to settle when Jean reached out to rub at the back of his neck.

It wasn’t a surprise to find Ichirou and Tetsuji in the large room with the wall of windows overlooking the stadium once they reached the top level, but Neil was confused when there weren’t any of his father’s people there, and the couple of bodyguards he saw were of the less obvious kind. There were also several strangers, were men and even two women dressed in business attire, were in suits and skirts and high heels, were all too-wide smiles and well-combed hair and manicures.

“There they are!” some middle-aged man he’d never seen before said as Nakamura led them into the room and then stepped aside. “Jean Moreau and Neil Josten, numbers Three and Four!” He motioned to them with a half-filled drink in his right hand. “Yes, they look great together, don’t they?” That seemed to be directed to the woman with the cropped dark brown hair with bright pink highlights.

“Oh yes.” She stood up from the couch and began to circle Neil and Jean; well used to his mother and the women in his father’s organization, Neil didn’t trust her at all and was prepared to be hit or slashed at with a weapon at any moment. “It’s incredible, that black hair and the red, considering their team’s colors, and those eyes of theirs, I _love_ it!” She reached out to grab onto Jean’s chin, and only the firm look from and slight shake of Ichirou’s head kept Neil from smacking her arm aside. “They really pop out, but we’ll have to play them up a little more.” Neil had to grind his teeth together to keep from saying or doing anything when it was his turn to be ‘examined’, and felt the tension in Jean’s body increase. “A little make-up, some careful lighting, it’s doable.”

“Leah knows what she’s doing,” the one guy told Ichirou. “She heads all of our important marketing campaigns and has worked with your brother several times.”

“We are certain that Moreau and Josten will be in capable hands,” Tetsuji said in a rush while Ichirou’s expression became impassive at the mention of his ‘brother’. “Then they are acceptable?”

The man exchanged a glance with ‘Leah’, who had _finally_ let go of Neil’s face. “They’re going to photograph very well, and I already have a lot of ideas after seeing them play together and in person,” she told him. “The height difference won’t be a problem after all.”

“No, I told you it’ll help us market a couple different lines,” a younger man in a very tailored dark grey suit spoke up.

“Yeah, yeah, coffee’s on me on Monday,” Leah said as she walked away. “You won that bet.”

“About damn time,” the man muttered, but he was smiling all the while.

During that side discussion, the older man looked over at Ichirou, but Tetsuji stepped forward to intercept him with a casual nod of his head. “If you will, Mr. Brine, my nephew has other plans this evening. Let’s continue our discussion elsewhere – there’s a very good steak restaurant not far away, with an impressive whiskey bar.”

The man and his entourage perked up at that. “Yes, that sounds wonderful.” He gave a respectful nod to Ichirou. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Moriyama. I look forward to doing business with you and your family again in the future.”

“Yes, I’m sure we will,” Ichirou replied as his gaze flickered over to Neil for a moment.

“And you two! We’ll be seeing each other soon!” The man held out his hand and, after only a moment’s hesitation, first Jean and then Neil shook it. The action was repeated with the rest of the strangers until they left with Tetsuji.

That meant Jean and Neil remained with Ichirou and the not obvious bodyguards; after several seconds, Ichirou gave a faint chuckle and went to the bar, where he poured two glasses of whiskey and brought them over to Neil and Jean. Jean took his without hesitation, and when Neil went to accept the glass, Ichirou wrapped his fingers around it then caught at his chin to make him look at the man.

“I was right about them being willing to pay for your face, Nathaniel.”

His throat gone dry at Ichirou’s touch, at the mention of his ‘old’ name, Neil took a moment to clear it before he could speak. “Is that what all of this is about? Paying for my face?”

“It was a little rude of him not to introduce himself, but he’s American,” Ichirou said as his thumb stroked along Neil’s left cheek. “That was Noah Brine, one of the owners of the Brine Racquet company.” When Neil’s eyes widened at the name, Ichirou smiled the slightest bit. “Yes, his family’s business makes the racquets you use for that game you seem to enjoy so much. They’re supposedly one of the best at what they do, so it’s important that they want you and Moreau in one of their ad campaigns. My uncle believes that it’s a very good start for you.”

“ _Ah, yes, my lord_ ,” Neil breathed out as he did his best not to panic at the thought of all that publicity, of people seeing his face in an ad when he had just gotten used to the idea of playing in front of crowds and cameras. As he struggled to remain still beneath Ichirou’s touch.

“ _Again, so obedient_ ,” Ichirou remarked as he stared down upon Neil, who stood there hyperaware of the armed guard about a dozen feet behind Ichirou, of the other one off to the side and the third behind him and Jean near the door. Of the weapons beneath their expensive black suits, of the weapons beneath _Ichirou’s_ – what would happen if Neil shoved the man away? What would happen if he was anything less than obedient? “ _And I hear you learn things quickly, too_.”

What did Ichirou _want_?

“ _Yes… my lord_.” He didn’t know of anything to do but to be still, to be like Nathaniel when back in his father’s house, when back in Baltimore. Best to be quiet and polite and not intentionally set off the one who held the power of life and death.

“ _Hmm, **some** things_.”

Ichirou continued to stare at him for a couple of seconds and then began to tilt Neil’s chin up even more. Confused by that (confused even _more_ ), a slight groan slipped past Neil’s lips – and then there was a loud gulping sound from next to him.

“ _Thank you for the whiskey, Lord Moriyama_.”

Neil flinched at the sound of Jean’s voice while Ichirou sighed and finally let him go. “You’re welcome, Moreau.” He tapped the glass which Neil still held clutched in his hand. “Finish yours and then go,” he said before walking away.

All too willing to leave, Neil choked down what he was certain was very fine whiskey then thanked Ichirou while Jean set the empty glasses down on a side table and all but dragged him out of the room. Jean pushed him closest to the wall and hovered next to him while they waited for the elevator, and there was another brisk walk to their room once they were back to the lower level.

There was no sight of Riko down there, no sign of the bastard waiting for them in their room. Neil supposed that if Tetsuji was busy signing a contract for them that his prick of a nephew couldn’t be beating the shit out of them (for once), and that they had a chance to rest until at least next Friday.

He’d worry about things after the game against the Foxes’.

There might not be Riko waiting for them, but Marley was leaning against their door and jumped to her feet when she saw them. “ _What happened_?” she asked in a rush, clearly anxious even though her French wasn’t that bad for once.

“It seems that Jean and I will be famous soon,” Neil joked as he sank down on their bed. “Best to get an autograph out of the crusty bastard while you can.”

“A devil sent to plague me,” Jean mumbled as he reached down to pull Neil back onto his feet. “And go brush your teeth.”

“Bastard.” Still, Neil went to get ready for bed while Marley smiled in relief and Jean explained about their pending sponsorship deals.

“Maybe you can get some free racquets out of it,” Marley said as she stretched out on Neil’s old bed. “Wouldn’t that be nice?”

That would be about the only thing they might see out of it, considering the Moriyamas would pocket all of the money. “Maybe.” Neil gave her a look as she crawled beneath the blankets. “Don’t you have your own bed?”

“Eh, Meg’s taken to chatting with that one striker from the Foxes, it’s annoying as hell to listen to them talk all night during the weekend,” she mumbled, while Neil groaned and Jean buried his face in their pillows. “I know, I know, I told her to be careful and not say anything and all that, but she just goes on about how he’s nice and… I need a break,” Marley whined.

“Whatever, if you snore then I’m smothering you during the night,” Neil warned as he rolled over to face Jean.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s if you can reach the bed, Shorty.”

“ _Okay, it **might** have been a mistake, taking them on_ ,” Neil whispered to his partner.

“ _Of course, I’m always right_ ,” Jean had to say as he wrapped his arm around Neil, his chin on top of Neil’s head.

Too tired to punch the French know-it-all, Neil closed his eyes instead and pushed aside all unwelcome thoughts (Ichirou, Riko, the sponsorship deal, his call with Minyard tomorrow, _Ichirou_ ), something he was very good at anymore. Right then he was surrounded by Jean and Marley, and needed some rest so he could face another day at the Nest.

*******

Andrew was grateful to escape Palmetto and the ever increasing amount of orange and white which was taking over the campus as the game with Edgar Allan approached. The faint amusement of seeing Wilds slowly unravel from all of the attention - press interviews, pep rallies, students who had ignored if not outright insulted her in the past – directed her way wasn't worth the aggravation of running into the sight of Fox paws and Vixens waving pompoms everywhere, of students wearing Foxes jerseys and the ground crews working overtime to make the university presentable.

All for a stupid game which didn't matter at all. For a couple of hours when the conclusion was already decided - the Foxes would crash and burn, as always, only this time in front of a much bigger audience.

_So boring._

The phone call from Pig Higgins on Wednesday didn’t help anything, either. He hadn’t appreciated the Foxes’ and Wymack’s nosiness (their _meddling_ ), hadn’t appreciated Pig Higgins’ miserable attempt to put the pieces together after so many years, or lying Luther’s failure to ensure that Cass didn’t have any more children in her house. But really, what had Andrew expected? For people to keep their _word_? To not lie? He should know better by now that if that was going to happen, it was only going to be done by him and him alone.

No, he was done with the past (as much as he could ever escape it, with the ever-present memories and the pale scars and nightmares waiting for him when he slept) and he was done with Exy. He was done with things he couldn’t change and those he had to suffer through for the time being.

Andrew had other, more interesting things to occupy his time, such as why a certain not-rabbit hadn't appeared on the Ravens' Instagram account for a couple of days, and why the last picture or two of Josten back then had shown him (and Moreau) with dark circles beneath his eyes and blank-faced. Why the latest one just showed Josten with a slight smile but with some dark smudges still beneath those brilliant eyes of his, with those cheeks a bit too sharp, that arresting face a bit too hollow. Had someone been pushing himself a little too hard?

Or was there something to the comment that Josten had made about 'bringing something down on' Moreau? Only... would it _just_ be Moreau? How far did the partner bond go? Hadn't Kevin said that Tetsuji, ever the jolly soul, would punish or reward both players in order to enforce the whole 'two as one' mentality?

Not that Andrew had much respect for them before, but he really was beginning to dislike the Moriyamas. He found himself tapping on the back of his new phone as he sat in Eden's while Kevin drank and rambled on about how the Foxes had barely won against the Hornets earlier that evening, how they needed to tighten up their defense if they had any hope of reining in the Ravens next week, how Gordon had to try harder to work with him and Yee had to be more aggressive on the court, dammit. Andrew was more than willing to escape into the one storeroom with Roland an hour and another round later, except that when he was down on his knees with the man’s cock in his mouth and looking up at Roland’s flushed face, he found himself thinking of pale blue eyes staring at him instead of dark brown and a soft British accent calling out his name. He’d felt a jolt of desire at that, had moved his left hand to his own hard cock before he caught himself, and then been so disgusted that he’d barely finished getting Roland off before storming out of the room.

He needed another packet of dust and a few more shots after that, needed something to remove the sour taste from his mouth and thwart the sense of frustration thrumming through his veins, needed something to scour out the image of Josten standing so close to him with fire in those pale eyes of his and no fear whatsoever for Andrew even with a knife pressed against his neck.

Cursing himself, Andrew yanked his phone out of his pocket and opened the one app hoping to prove to himself that he was being even more of fool than usual, that Josten was nothing more than a pretty face covering too much bad attitude - he would spend a few minutes flicking through popular posts and find someone else to fixate on until he got off with ease.

There were several pictures posted from after the Raven’s game earlier, taken by someone on the staff, it seemed. Almost all of them featured Riko, of course, the team's ‘beloved’ star, but a couple also contained the more popular players and group shots. One with the highest views had Josten and Moreau slumped against each other as if to hold the other up, shoulders bowed and hair damp with sweat, Josten's arm wrapped around Moreau's waist and Moreau's around his shoulders.

They were in another picture, again one with a high amount of views and reposts, where a tired Moreau had his arm around Josten's upper chest as if to keep him in place and seemed to be ruffling his hair while Josten made a face, with a laughing Patel, Curtis and the one goalkeeper next to them.

For some reason Andrew only felt more frustrated looking at the images, and not even glancing through some of the pictures of various men which Nicky had reposted helped to make things better.

He felt the urge to punch something, to lash out... but had another dust-laced shot of whiskey to hold him over until he got the others home, where he dumped Kevin on the couch before grabbing a bottle of whiskey and locked himself up in his room to drink until he didn't feel anything. Until he could close his eyes and no longer see something as ridiculous as a stupid pipe dream, as something that never was and never would be real.

The only reason some tiny part of him had latched on to the ridiculous idea of Neil Josten was because it knew that it would _never_ happen - the not-rabbit wasn't real in any sense of the word other than merely physical, was hundreds of miles away and only thought of Andrew with the utmost contempt.

So yeah, in a way he _was_ perfect.

Andrew woke up with a pounding headache, a dry throat and the familiar itching, crawling sensation throughout his entire body which spoke of going too long without another dose of his meds. Forcing himself to swallow several times as his stomach threatened to rebel, he hauled himself out of bed and unlocked the door so he could stagger downstairs, his right foot slipping a couple of times on the tread of the stairs, and forced himself to shove a drooling Kevin a little more onto his left side so he could fish the bottle of pills out of the drunkard's pocket. As soon as he shook one free, he scrambled into the kitchen to wash it down with a glass of water and stood hunched over the sink until it took effect.

Torn between feeling better and detesting its effects, Andrew wiped at the sweat on his face and noticed that he only had about half an hour before his scheduled 'chat' with Josten. He put on a pot of coffee then went to shower, unable to bear the feel of sweat on his skin and the stench of a night spent at Eden's, and felt a little better once clean and in a fresh set of clothes. There still wasn't any signs of life from the others, so he poured himself a large mug of coffee, poured in enough milk and sugar, and took it out onto the back porch along with his cigarettes.

He managed to get through one and the coffee, and had just lit another cigarette when he placed the call to Josten; it rang a couple of times before the not-rabbit picked it up. "What do you want?" Josten sounded tired and more than a little surly, how wonderful.

Andrew blew out a couple of smoke circles as he leaned against one of the pillars holding up the porch roof. "Such lovely manners, did your mother teach you those?"

There was a sharp breath over the line and then the sound of rustling.

"Listen, salaud," Moreau snapped, his accented voice thick with loathing. "You do not talk to him like that. I don't know what your intentions are with this... _whatever_ , but I will take your racquet and spit you with it next week if you dare step out of line, you gutter-bred runt. I swear it."

Oh, how interesting - Kevin said that Riko had ensured that Moreau was a meek and mild birdy. Did _that_ sound meek and mild? "I thought you Frenchies were lovers and not fighters, Valjean." In the background he could hear Josten murmur something to Moreau in French.

"Spit you with your own damn racquet," Moreau repeated as if Andrew hadn't said anything.

"Whatever, I didn't call to listen to your lame threats so put on the other little bird," Andrew drawled. "The one clever enough to find an untapped phone."

He was cursed at in French for a few seconds, but there were sounds of the phone being handed over and more murmured French before Josten spoke up. "They teach _you_ those wonderful social skills in juvie or does being that much of an asshole come naturally?"

"Why mess with perfection?" Andrew quipped as he flicked the ash from his cigarette. "You're the one who can't seem to make up his mind on who he'll be - rabbit or not-rabbit, American or British, brunet or redhead, Wesninski or Josten."

There was silence on the line for a couple of seconds save for some quiet breaths, and then Josten managed a dry chuckle. "See, here's the funny thing about that - some people can decide if they're going to be an asshole or not, if they want to... oh, let's go with a scenario where they can do something like pick up a reinforced stick and slam it into someone's chest and then mock them when they're down, post information that should be private on a public forum, hold sharp objects to another person and punch them. Or _not_ do any of those things. You know, be a real fucking asshole or _not_ ," he said in a too cheerful voice.

Andrew held smoke in his lungs for a moment before he let it out. "Hmm, something about that sounds a little specific for some reason. I feel so attacked right now.”

"I think this example in particular has anger issues," Josten mock-whispered. “Among others. _Many_ others.”

"At least your wonderfully _random_ example has decided what he wants to be," Andrew shot back. "Unlike someone who appears to be a pathological liar."

There was another moment of silence followed by more sharp laughter. "But at least you know something about me, don't you?" Josten hummed a little while Moreau asked something in French. "It all comes down to choice, doesn't it? And _you_ decided to be one of the world's biggest assholes."

After another stretch of silence, Andrew flicked the remains of his cigarette aside, into the weed-infested yard. "Okay, I'll bite. You trying to tell me that little Nathaniel would never chop down the cherry tree if given the chance?"

"I don't like axes," Josten said in a flat tone of voice, a fact that Andrew filed away to think about later. "Some of us don't have much choice in what we become - _you_ going to lie and say that Day didn't tell you about my father? Considering all the 'Wesninski’s you've been throwing around?"

 _Touché_. "So you became a runner and a liar rather than a mini-butcher?"

"So curious for the rabid, ill-bred guard dog you are. Push too far, _Doe,_ get Jean in trouble again and you'll find out, won't you?" Josten said, his voice too smooth to be trusted.

"About that, you're implying that I got Moreau in trouble already." Andrew leaned forward and stared across the backyard as he seized on the thread of opportunity dangled before him, so to speak. "Does that-"

"What, you want to hear what Riko does to us? What it's like in the Nest? Is that what this is about?" Now there was pure venom lacing Josten's tenor voice, so thick and cloying; Andrew could imagine the fire lighting up those blue eyes right then, the flush to those cheeks and the forbidding smile curving the kid's lips. "Can't get yourself off on just Day's ‘woe is me’ Evermore stories or something? But oh, wait, Day was number Two while he was here, and he didn’t pay enough attention to anything but himself and Riko, so that's a problem, isn't it? He didn't care what happened to Jean and the others because it wasn't Exy so it wasn't important.” The venom increased with almost every word, making it clear how little Josten thought of Kevin and Andrew. “Not until it happened to _him_ and his precious hand," Josten spat. " _Then_ it mattered, but only enough for him to run away. So no, sorry, no stories for you, you prick. You want to know what goes on here? You should have signed on when you had the chance but an unwanted fuck-up like you knew you could never cut it, you trailer-trash wanker." The line went dead after that.

That... was growing more than a little annoying, but Andrew had to admit that Josten had held up his end of the bargain, had accepted the call and spoken to him. So what if the conversation had been heavy on the veiled threats and insults?

Andrew hadn't ever been one for small talk. At least Josten didn't insult his intelligence, didn't pull his punches or treat Andrew as an unstable or broken thing because of the meds, as someone too stupid or uneducated to bother with because of his past. No, the not-rabbit came out swinging and expected Andrew to match him blow for blow.

It was... oddly refreshing, that twisted sense of equality. It was clear that Josten didn't think much of him, wouldn't even spit on him were he to burst into flames, yet Josten expected him to hit back with everything he got and still came back for more.

No wonder Andrew couldn't get the idiot out of his head.

He still wasn't any closer to finding out what was going on at Evermore, though, other than nothing good. He wasn't going to find out until Josten trusted him, as ridiculous as that seemed. Which meant that he had to clear up the _tiny_ misunderstanding about Andrew supposedly siccing the Moriyamas on Josten sooner rather than later. He mulled over the various ways to go about that while he had another cigarette until his stomach rumbled enough to force him back inside.

By that point Aaron and Nicky were up, which meant that a whining Nicky went out to fetch something to eat while Andrew had more coffee. Kevin lurched into the kitchen for some caffeine while the three of them finished their breakfast (almost lunch) sandwiches and hash browns, and lurched back out for a shower once he had a mug in hand.

It was a normal weekend after that, and Andrew fared a bit better against Renee once back on campus and down in the lower level of the Fox Tower. Although 'better' didn't mean that he won, just that he got a few good hits in before she pinned him against the wall and forced him to drop his knife. They went up to the roof so he could smoke and she have some water, during which she gave him an update on the two girls.

Patel was still accepting whatever advice Wilds and Renee would give her while keeping her distance on anything personal and definitely anything related to Josten and Moreau, which was more than a little suspicious. Also suspicious? She didn’t seem upset that she hadn’t played in the game on Friday, merely stating that there would be other chances in the future. Renee wondered if she’d been injured or punished for something, but she looked all right in the pictures posted and Curtis didn’t seem worried about her.

As for Curtis, she was excited about coming to Palmetto and seeing Wilds and Renee, and hoped they wouldn’t be upset when the Ravens beat them on Friday (at least she wasn’t trying to soften the blow with some ‘whichever team wins’ bullshit). She was also talking to Yee, apparently, and while she acted as if it was just her chatting with a ‘boy’, Renee admitted to Andrew that Yee had asked Boyd for advice on how best to ‘talk’ to a girl and tips for ‘treating’ her right.

There were times when Andrew seriously wondered why he didn’t just step off of the roof and put an end to the ludicrousness that was his life. He supposed there were his promises to Aaron and Kevin… and swore that he’d never make another one _ever_ again. A few more years and he’d be free from the absurdity that was the Foxes and Exy. A few more years.

Until then, he had alcohol, he supposed.

As if Wymack wasn’t drilling them enough on the Ravens line-up during the week, Kevin was pushing himself like a madman during his nighttime practices and goading Andrew to join in to little effect. Add to that all the special ‘pep’ rallies going on during the week of the game, and Andrew was actually looking forward to the damn match-up just to have it over and done with so things could go back to normal.

He was back in the suite giving his eyes a rest from the horror of ‘Orange’ day on Tuesday when there was an unexpected text from Josten. ‘R wants me to distract you after game so he can talk to Kevin’.

Andrew stared at the text for several seconds and almost called Josten before he remembered the not-rabbit’s warning about not being discovered with the phone. ‘what, so he can break his other hand’, he sent back instead, a part of him noting that at least Josten didn’t use a bunch of emoji and shortcuts while texting, unlike Nicky and Aaron.

It took a couple of minutes before there was a reply. ‘T to be there, so no?’

Not quite good enough. ‘confirm’.

That was it for the day, but since it was after Andrew’s class, he assumed that Josten had practice or lunch soon and would be busy for a while.

There was a text waiting for him when he woke up (and he thought the _Foxes_ had an annoyingly early start to the day) stating that ‘T will be there, need to distract you’. Charming fellow that he was, Andrew let Josten stew for a while, certain that the ‘need’ hadn’t quite been an intentional admission.

It made sense that Riko wouldn’t risk anything to Kevin while at Palmetto, not when there would be all that media around, all those witnesses. Still, Andrew sent back after morning practice ‘why?’.

The answer came that evening. ‘T said just to talk so guilt-trip, probably’.

Yes, most likely Tetsuji and Riko wanted to work on Kevin when they felt he would be at his lowest point, after a crushing loss to the Ravens. They would do their best to drive home how he would never regain what he once had before Riko had his little 'fit' of temper (had shown his true colors) and done his best to ensure that Kevin never surpassed him on the court. Oh no, why bother with something as obvious as physical abuse when mental and emotional would do just as well if not better?

Dammit, it looked as if Andrew might have to exert himself on Friday after all.

First thing first - he waited until the four of them rode over to the stadium and then gestured for Aaron and Nicky to go inside without him and Kevin. His brother gave him a curious look for a moment but got moving at Andrew's wide grin in response, while Nicky gave a nervous laugh. As for Kevin, he shifted about on his feet in obvious impatience. "What? We can't afford to waste time, it's important to-"

"Five minutes isn't going to make any difference, you know we're going to lose on Friday," Andrew told the Exy junkie. "Now shut up or it'll be twenty."

Kevin glared at him for that but was smart enough to not push the matter by then, so Andrew nodded once and continued. "A little birdy has informed me that Riko and Tetsuji are going to command your presence for a private audience after the game."

"Okay." Kevin continued to gaze at him for a couple of seconds before that seemed to catch up with his thoughts, which were probably focused on the afternoon's practice. "Wait, what?" He jerked his left hand through his hair as his eyes widened and face paled. "They- but they can't! What about our-"

Andrew slashed his right hand through the air as he held Kevin's panicked gaze. "No, think for a minute, Day. They're just going to talk. We'll tell Wymack so he'll have someone in or near the locker room, and there'll be too many people around for them to try something. This is more of their mind-game shit, but best for them to try it here where we have the advantage when they think we're caught unaware than somewhere else."

Kevin took several deep, uneven breaths as he fought to control his fear, to push past the panic attack, and Andrew had to give it to the coward that he managed to do so after about a minute or two. "But... but what about you?" he asked, his voice rough with barely suppressed emotions.

Andrew grinned as he spread out his arms. "I'm popular, too." His smile faded as his arms dropped back to his side. "Riko's sending someone to keep me company, it seems I'm not invited to your little chat."

"Sending...." Kevin's eyes widened once more. "Did Jean call you? Is that how you know?" He sounded hopeful of all things then, as if he hadn't ruined whatever friendship he had with the French backliner by leaving Evermore that night and joining the Foxes.

"No," Andrew said, his tone curt as he tapped his fingers against the pack of cigarettes in his pocket. "Not Jean. All you need to know is that I'm holding up my end of our bargain, so can you handle talking to those bastards on Friday?"

"I...." Kevin's brows drew together as he stared at the back of his scarred left hand. "You're right, better to deal with them here than wait for their next move. I can do it now that I know." He gave a shaky laugh as he turned toward the stadium. "I've been expecting something, to be honest. It's better to know for certain, to have the doubt taken away." His jaw tightened as he stepped away from the car. "I'm not letting them push me around anymore."

Oh, someone was full of fire that day, weren't they? As always, Kevin tended to find his spine when near an Exy court, only for it to go missing once he was elsewhere.

Well, Andrew supposed that's where he came in.

Practice was the usual boring mess of Wymack calling them lazy worms and Wilds hollering about teamwork and calling out various plays that would never work, Gordon insulting half the team and Kevin yelling at everyone. Towards the latter half, Andrew motioned Wymack over to him and Kevin while Renee was in the goal and Wilds tried to get Gordon and Yee to work together (there was optimism and then there was outright stupidity, and Andrew certainly knew which one he was observing). There wasn't any reason for Wymack to sigh like that, as if a man facing his impending doom, when Andrew was kind enough to tell him about a party being thrown in his precious pile of cement and garish paint.

Wymack went from being weary to furious by the time Andrew finished explaining things. "Those assholes really don't know when to quit, do they?" He gave Kevin a reassuring pat on the left shoulder. "You sure you're okay with this? I can have enough security on hand that they won't be able to look at you, let alone reach you."

Kevin managed a weak smile and shook his head. "No, I think Andrew's right on this, let them talk to me or else we'll be dealing with something like last spring. They can't do anything when everyone knows they're here."

Wymack didn't appear as if he believed that 'do anything' part, but he grunted in agreement before he looked at Andrew. "And what about you? How come you suddenly have an in with the Ravens?"

"It's not just me, Renee's been chatting with those two freshmen for weeks," Andrew said as he tugged on the cuff of his left glove.

"Yeah, but she's Renee and you're you, you damn midget," Wymack argued. "You know what, never mind, it's probably best I don't know." His eyes narrowed as he glanced from Andrew to the court and back again. "Riko and his uncle are counting on embarrassing us on our home ground. I know you said you wouldn't keep doing it, but it would be better if you were-"

"No," Andrew said, his tone flat and face as blank as he could make it; he’d known this was coming, but he would make Wymack pay for it.

"-in the goal for the whole game," Wymack continued as if Andrew hadn't spoken. "Two bottles, Andrew. I wouldn't ask if this wasn't important."

"What about Renee?"

"We could use a spare backliner for the game, you can't tell me that those Ravens aren't going to run our defense into the ground." Wymack looked at Kevin, who gave a quick nod before he resumed staring at Andrew. "It's not her strongest position but I've talked to her a little about it and she's agreed to it since she’s played it before. She'd rather sub in there and leave the goal to you."

"Oh how nice, you've _talked_ about it already," Andrew said with a wide grin which made Wymack curse beneath his breath and Kevin flinch. " _Three_ bottles and you'll keep Gordon back after the game until I'm ready for him."

"I won't give them to you all at once and what do you want with Gordon?" Wymack asked, all of a sudden suspicious since he knew how much Andrew cared for the homophobic striker – not at all.

"Oh, don't worry, I won't play rough with your little druggie," he promised - _he_ wouldn't, "I just need him to clear up a misunderstanding that's all his fault. Confession's good for the soul, I hear."

"You need to have one for that to work," Wymack muttered, which made Andrew gasp in mock pain and clutch at his chest. "Fine, you play the whole game and I'll hold him back until you're ready for him, but none of your rough tricks, dammit."

Andrew waggled his fingers at the man, not that they moved too much since they were tucked into the massive gloves of his goalie gear, and waited for Wymack to go stalking off toward the rest of the Foxes. "What?" he asked Kevin, since he could see the glower directed at him from the corner of his eyes.

"I've been after you for how long to get you to do something, to live up to your potential and all it takes is for Coach to-" he let out a muffled yelp when Andrew swung his heavy racquet at the pain in the ass's chest.

"Oh Kevin, when are you going to learn that I don't care about any of this?" Andrew said with a mocking smile while Kevin's glare strengthened.

"But you're still going to play because he asked."

"Is that what has you all upset? Because Wymack asked?" Andrew’s grin grew wider when Kevin nodded. "It's because it's so much more _fun_ to tell you 'no'," he admitted as he shoved Kevin backwards with his racquet. "Get that through your Exy-addicted head soon, because I'm not going to save you or this miserable team's ass again."

"Then why are you- ah! Dammit, Andrew!"

Andrew walked away after shoving Kevin onto his ass, the aggravating striker left sprawled onto the court, and took his place in the goal since it looked as if Wymack was going to have Renee work on practicing as a backliner for the rest of the afternoon. Not that Andrew did anything but stand there, which made Kevin even more of a sullen prick than usual.

Andrew didn't care about Exy. He didn't feel anything for the game except boredom and annoyance, didn't care at all if they won or lost. The one thing he did care somewhat about was making sure that Riko didn't get his way, so he'd suffer through an entire game just to wipe away the smug grin from that bastard's face, that and now he'd be able to get Gordon and Josten in the same room together. All of this was just a mean's to an end.

There was a text waiting for him after practice, a bunch of French words which he bet were along the lines of 'hope you had a good practice, you handsome young man, you'.

'is that how you ask for a favor?'

The reply came in later that night, when Andrew was reading before bed. 'note to self - next time just go with plan b'

Andrew only waited a minute before replying. 'that is?'

Considering the late hour, Josten didn't waste time in answering. 'don't ask, just stab'

Oh ho, someone was a comedian. 'how adorable, you think you can take me'

'guess we find out'

Someone didn't seem to be kidding, did they? For a moment Andrew considered it, considered the hatred he'd seen in Josten's eyes, the lack of fear, what he'd said to Andrew as he'd wielded his own knife. How fast he'd moved against Gordon and how quickly he could race over the court. Hmm, someone would indeed be a challenge, one Andrew found himself looking forward to of all things.

But some other time.

'not this Friday, we have a date after the game'

It took a couple of minutes for Josten's next text. 'if a trick, have fun being an asshole w/out a liver'.

'no eviscerating until second date'

There was another slight pause and then a bunch of French words again. Hmm, it seems that Josten had a chaperone, that wasn't fun.

'Friday', Andrew sent before he set his phone aside for the night.

"Are you sexting?" Nicky asked, his voice sleepy but the incredulousness still evident.

By way of answer, Andrew threw his book, a suitably thick mystery paperback, at his cousin who was in the bunk beneath him. As Nicky yelped in pain, he settled down in bed with his back almost against the wall and closed his eyes. Maybe Friday would be interesting after all, he thought as he fell asleep.

*******

On Friday morning, the Ravens had one last practice on their home court and went over the Foxes' stats as well as their strategy for the evening's game before they were loaded up on the buses for the almost seven hour drive to Palmetto State. Neil and Jean were quick to claim the last seat with Marley sitting right in front of them, leery as they'd been all week long of putting as much space between them and Riko as possible.

Their 'king' hadn't been pleased about the previous Friday night, about their private audience with Ichirou... but there wasn't anything he could do about it (which didn't help things) when in the end, what mattered was Neil's and Jean's value to the Moriyamas, not Riko's perverse need for amusement and attention.

Ross was failing his classes and a nervous wreck, Adams flinched whenever Riko was nearby and had taken to staying late on the court to work on his aim, and even the upperclassmen were nervous anymore. Neil almost felt sorry for the Foxes since the Ravens would direct all that anxiety out on them... but better another team face Riko's wrath than his.

He tucked his Ravens coat into the corner between the seat and the wall of the bus and leaned against it, then smiled when Jean's coat ended up in his lap followed by his partner's head, Jean's long legs bent so he could mostly fit on the bench. " _Tired_?"

" _Too much practice. You and the flea have more energy than sense_ ," Jean complained, only to let out an appreciative moan when Neil rubbed at his scalp.

"What am I being blamed for now?" Marley asked as she leaned over the top of the seat in front of them, her chin propped up on her forearm and the damn phone in her right hand as she took a photo.

"We're being mean to this poor old baguette," Neil explained, and laughed when Jean swatted at his face. “See, I told you eating all those vegetables were bad.”

“Yeah, you need some spice in your life, Crusty. Be nice to me for once and I’ll fling a little chili powder on your spinach one night.”

Jean swatted at Marley, too, which made her laugh as she sat back in her seat. “What I need is for someone to take you children away. Leave me alone for once, find someone else to torment,” he complained.

“Yeah, yeah.” Marley rolled her eyes before she turned around to talk to Meg, while Neil gave his partner’s scalp another rub before letting Jean catch up on a little sleep. After about an hour, Jean woke up and let Neil take a short nap, then they spent some time talking about the game with Marley and Meg, about the strategy for the evening and how to get around Minyard in the goal for half the game.

Riko might have ignored Neil and Jean for the most part all week long, but he had made it clear to them both that any failure during the game at Palmetto State would mean that Federov, Bautista and Johnson would be allowed to do whatever they wanted to both of them for the rest of the weekend, sponsorship deal or not. Jean was to defend the goal against Day at all costs, and Neil would rack up the points against the Foxes until it was clear that they would have no hope of making it to the semi-finals as Day had claimed at several points during the season.

As much as Neil detested following the bastard’s orders… he had to say that the idea of showing Day and Minyard up on the court would give him a good bit of satisfaction, considering the contempt Day had shown him back in Millport, the contempt and arrogance in assuming that Neil would fall at his feet in awe, all eager to play with the great Kevin Day despite his meager playing skills (he’d only been right about Neil wanted to play Exy more than anything). Considering the shit he’d put up with the last two weeks from Minyard over the phone calls and texts, getting Jean (and him) in trouble with Tetsuji and then dragging things out when Neil had the decency to try and work things out with the psycho rather than start a fight that might attract too much attention when Riko told him about his post-game plans.

Neil thought he could handle Minyard in a fair fight – the goalie was stronger than him, obviously, but Neil had a slight advantage in reach and definitely in speed. He might not be the best trained fighter, but when it mattered, he knew where to hit to make sure the other person didn’t get up – his problem was that he hadn’t been trained to _fight_ , really. He’d been trained to eliminate the threat and move on. Throwing punches wasn’t his thing, but he knew how to hit all the vital spots.

Sometimes he looked at Marley and Meg when they talked about their childhoods and families and… he knew they were speaking in English, but the words… they just didn’t _mean_ anything to him. He couldn’t _comprehend_ the images and meaning behind them.

Maybe he’d have had a chance at some sort of normal life, but Day and Minyard had taken it away from him when they’d helped the Moriyamas track him down. They’d taken away the chance he had of slipping out of Millport and taking on a new name, a new identity somewhere else that didn’t have anything to do with the Moriyamas and the Hatfords and Nathan Wesninski.

Perhaps the Moriyamas would have found him eventually, or his father’s people… or perhaps not. He’d had a chance at least, a chance which Minyard and Day had ruined for him. So while Neil still didn’t want Day back at Evermore, he was perfectly fine with squashing Day’s hopes of regaining stardom with the Foxes, and whatever it was that Day had promised Minyard.

They’d destroyed his hope of the future, so why not destroy theirs?

******

Andrew ignored Wymack’s failure of an inspirational speech as he tried to wind up the Foxes and Kevin for the game; Kevin had that annoying, determined expression on his face as he stared at the door leading to the court, Yee appeared as if he was going to be sick, Gordon ready to start a fight and the rest of the Foxes a mix of all three (well, Aaron appeared as bored as Andrew). Wymack chided Andrew to put some effort into the game for once, to which Andrew gave him an arch look and didn’t walk out on the asshole.

As if to mock his resolve, the warning buzzer went off to signal that their presence was required on the inner court and made Kevin – along with Yee and Nicky – jump in response. Oh yes, ready to live and die out on the court indeed, Mr. Day, Andrew thought, but he kept the taunt to himself for once. It was going to be a long enough of an evening as it was, due to playing a full game and dealing with the damn Ravens.

"Let's do this," Wymack said as he clapped his hands together as a distraction while Abby did her best to soothe Kevin. "The sooner we kill these bastards, the sooner we can get roaring drunk at Abby's place. I spent all damned morning stocking her fridge."

Ah yes, alcohol as a consolation prize – Andrew approved. Of course it meant no Columbus that night, but Kevin would probably be unbearable for the drive anyway, so best to accept the free drinks and let him sob on Abby’s shoulder rather than run the risk of being tempted to shove him out of a moving vehicle at some point. Judging from Nicky’s loud whoop and the slight lessening of Aaron’s scowl, the rest of the ‘monsters’ approved.

Wymack opened the door heading out onto the court and Wilds led the way as the raucous noise of the crowd filled the hallway. The One Notes began to play as soon as the Foxes stepped out onto the inner court while the Vixens waved about their stupid pompoms. Andrew glanced back just in time to notice his brother stare at one of them in particular, just as he’d suspected, but resumed looking ahead before Aaron’s attention shifted from the cheerleader.

The Foxes were barely out on the court when the Ravens’ arrival was announced, followed by that boring, droning dirge of a song of theirs. Unlike most games, there was actually a large section filled with Ravens’ fans dressed in black, which went wild as their team came out on court and upped the noise level in the stadium even more. Sprinkled amidst the crowd were signs of ‘1-2’… and even some of ‘3-4’. How amusing.

The Foxes’ fans did their best to drown out the cheers with loud boos and insults, while the Ravens’ fans only cheered all the louder – it was enough to give Andrew a headache. Meanwhile, the Ravens proceeded in an orderly line, way too many of them, with Riko at the front.

Since there were so many of the black-clad bastards, Wymack let them have the inner court for warm-up laps and had the Foxes run on the court itself, which helped to put some distance between Kevin and Riko. Kevin kept looking straight ahead as he ran near the wall in the opposite direction of the Ravens, while Andrew noticed the small figure running right behind Moreau in the third spot of the line-up – like Kevin, Josten looked straight ahead, never once glancing aside at the Foxes. Meanwhile, Curtis flashed a smile at Yee whenever they passed each other, while Patel actually stuck her tongue out at Andrew, of all things.

When it came time for drills, Tetsuji had to break his team in half since it was so large, having the defense continue with laps while the offense took shots at the goal.  Andrew leaned against his racquet while the rest of the Foxes practiced, his attention focused on the darting figures on the other side of the court, on the two slender strikers – one tall, one short – who huddled together between shots on the goal.

Soon enough the referees signaled that it was time for the coin toss, and Kevin came to stand next to Andrew as Wilds met with Riko on the center of the court. Riko won the toss and gave Wilds a smirking grin before they parted. The teams went to their respective sides of the court, where the subs wished the starting line good luck by knocking their racquets together as they walked past. Andrew gave Boyd a flat look for his wide smile and loud ‘go get ‘em’ and waited for the announcers to call them out onto the court so the damn game could finally start.

They called out the Foxes first, and the crowd went wild when first Kevin and then Gordon went out onto the court, followed by Reynolds, Nicky and Renee, and Andrew at last.

The crowd went wild again when Riko was called out. Yet Riko didn’t stop at center court, he continued onward straight to Kevin, where the coward unhooked his helmet as if to better hear what the little psycho had to say while the announcer called out the rest of the Ravens - Josten, Moreau, Johnson, McPherson, and Ivanova. While that went on, Kevin and Riko seemed to have a little chat to chat, how nice. Displeased by Riko’s actions, so blatant as if he had every right to approach Kevin so openly, and at Kevin for just standing there, Andrew waited for about half a minute before he smashed his racquet into the frame of the goal. The loud noise startled Kevin and earned Andrew a disgruntled look from Riko, who finally went back to his rightful spot (well, where he was supposed to be out on the court – his rightful spot was out in the dumpsters).

With everyone in their spots at last and the court door locked shut, the head referee handed McPherson the ball and got out of the way. Andrew waited for the buzzer to start the damn game, and as soon as the noise filled the stadium, it was a flurry of activity.

Reynolds caught the ball on the rebound from the home court wall and served it to Andrew, who threw it back down the court. Kevin and Gordon managed to get it closer to the goal – only for Kevin to run smack into the Ravens’ defense. It was obvious that Moreau was assigned to him, and Moreau wasn’t about to let Kevin get past him at the goal, was willing to put his slight height and reach advantage to use to snatch away the ball and keep it from Kevin. They fought back and forth for almost a minute before Kevin resorted to rare brute strength to get his way, but Moreau managed to block his throw on the goal enough that it missed.

Gordon tried to snatch up the ball, but Johnson was quicker and meaner, bowling Gordon over with ease before running off with the ball. The backliner was able to get it into McPherson’s possession, and the dealer shoved Reynolds out of her way long enough to hand it over to a lightning quick Josten who danced around Nicky with ease. Andrew tracked the not-rabbit’s approach on the goal, but Josten surprised him and threw the ball before his ten steps were up to Riko, who was off to the side near Renee, and then the next thing Andrew knew, the goal was lit up red.

A goal. In under two minutes, the Ravens had already scored. Andrew stared at the red light while Riko laughed and called out something in Japanese to Josten, his fingers tightening around the heavy racquet in his hand. There were times when he didn’t give a damn about anyone scoring on him, when he couldn’t be bothered to block the ball, but the _one_ game when he’d intended to do something and then _this_?

He still didn’t give a shit about Exy, but to hell with Riko waltzing in and doing whatever the hell he pleased that night.

Andrew nearly swung his racquet at the smirking bastard when Riko scored again in another three minutes. “Are you just going to stand there all night?” Riko taunted him. “Oh, right, that’s all you’re good for, mutt.”

He settled for waving the bastard away, focusing instead on Josten, who was being rather quiet so far and giving him a considering look for some reason. Riko stared at him, too, for a couple of seconds before clicking his tongue in disgust and walking away when Andrew continued to ignore him.

Kevin managed to get the ball for a minute or two, but he was hampered by Gordon, who seemed more interested in fighting with Johnson than teamwork, and the fact that Moreau _refused_ to let him get anywhere near the goal. Even if it meant being roughed up, Moreau battered Kevin back from the goal with an almost palpable desperation, and as soon as Kevin lost the ball, was firing it down the court.

Riko caught it that time, but he was too far away and had to throw it over to Josten. Andrew deflected his first attempt at the goal, but Nicky fumbled the ball and almost too quick to be seen, Josten snatched it up and managed some insane twist/slide combination which allowed him to bounce the ball off the wall of the court and land the shot in the goal while Andrew was left trying to figure out how the hell a human body contorted like that. The flexible bastard’s legs had to hurt from hitting the court from a hard run, but Josten used his racquet to force himself back onto his feet and gave Andrew a too-sharp grin before returning to the center of the court.

Tetsuji pulled Josten from the game after that – somehow Andrew doubted it was out of concern for the rookie striker, even if he noticed that Josten’s stride had been uneven for the first step or two. A new dealer was subbed in, too, while Wymack switched in Boyd, Aaron and Yee for Gordon, Nicky and Renee. It helped a little to have a stronger defensive line, that and Andrew was pushing past the last dregs of the meds which meant his mind was a little clearer, his focus a bit sharper.

It helped a little. Boyd was their strongest defensive player and while Saunders was good, he didn’t work as well with Riko as Josten did, so the Ravens’ attack on the Foxes’ goal halted. If by some chance they got past Aaron, Andrew was ready for them, and Riko quickly lost his smirk. Between that and Boyd being only too happy to put his height and weight to good use in knocking the smug prick around, it didn’t take long for a fight to break out.

As soon as the two morons hit the ground, Andrew was out of his goal and after the ball, which he got before Lau could snatch it up for the Ravens. Once it was in his racquet’s net, he threw it all the way down to the half court, where Kevin and Yee were struggling against Moreau and Johnson. Since Kevin was occupied with Moreau, Yee managed to get the ball and keep it away from his burly backliner long enough to use his ten steps, and then he threw it back at Kevin, who at that point had distanced himself enough from Moreau for a little breathing room. Using the same trick that Josten had employed against Andrew a short while ago (without the fancy gymnastics, the lazy bastard), Kevin managed to score a point for the Foxes at last.

It went downhill from there, of course, as if the Ravens couldn’t stomach the thought of the Foxes fighting back. Boyd and Riko got into another fight, yet somehow Boyd was blamed for throwing the first punch (he hadn’t, from what Andrew could see from his goal, but of course the referee had his own opinion), which meant Riko got a penalty shot which Andrew missed by half a _fucking_ inch. The only good thing to come out of it was Moreau being subbed out after the first quarter, so Kevin managed to get another score in the second one before being subbed out himself. They might have had a third point if Gordon hadn’t fucked up a penalty shot.

Half-time came with the score being seven-two, and while the Foxes were faring better against the Ravens as the last two teams to go against the champions… they were still being beaten and Andrew didn’t see it getting much better in the second half, considering how exhausted everyone was already. The Ravens had more than enough players to swap out again, either well-rested or entirely fresh, and Andrew knew that he had one more quarter at best before the need for another dose started to dig in. It would be even worse than usual because of how much he was exerting himself tonight, being forced to constantly move to block the onslaught on the goal from the Ravens’ offense.

Abby dashed about to make sure everyone had enough to drink so they remained hydrated while Wymack gave another one of his inane pep-talks, which made Andrew want to hit himself over the head with his own racquet. It was almost a relief to force himself back onto his feet and go out onto the court, where a new pair of strikers tried again and again to score more points, Tetsuji subbing Engle out for Riko but leaving Tollis in halfway through the quarter. Andrew wondered what the hell had happened to Josten, but soon was too busy trying to stay on his feet, to hold on to his racquet when it seemed that Riko was in his fucking _face_ every other minute.

There was a minute to breathe, to let his muscles relax and rest as the fourth quarter started, and Andrew felt a faint stir of interest to see Riko leave the court and Josten come in along with Patel. He wondered if the Ravens felt satisfied enough with their score to leave the rest of the game in the hands of their freshmen strikers, if it was an insult of sorts to the Foxes, a sign that they weren’t worth Riko’s and the upperclassmen’s time even if Josten had that fancy tattoo on his cheek. Kevin did a double-take and Gordon called out an insult to the two, but Josten and Patel ignored it as they took their place on the court.

Andrew huffed as the buzzer started, figuring that he’d have an easy end to the game at least, done with Riko’s smirks and taunts, and ended up cursing when Josten and Patel were in Nicky’s and Renee’s faces within a minute and a half – Tetsuji had subbed Moreau back on the court, too, and as soon as the French bastard got the ball away from Kevin, it was in Josten’s net.

Patel wasn’t anywhere near Riko’s league, but she was still a Raven and she was almost as fast as Josten and just as vicious as any of her teammates. Nicky hesitated a moment too long to check her and ended up on his ass, the fool, which gave the two little birdies a clear shot at the goal (for some odd reason, Renee had trouble with Josten). Andrew braced himself for more Ravens tricks, but instead of the ball coming in high, in Josten switching it out to Patel, Patel did something odd in flicking it out of her net low to the floor over to Josten and then the goal lit up red.

“Too slow, monkey-fucker,” Patel crowed as she twirled her racquet around in her gloved hands.

“You forgot ‘stunted’,” Josten reminded her with a wicked grin.

“So true!” She said something in French (oh, wonderful, _another one_ ,) as they sauntered away while Nicky gaped at them.

Andrew told himself that it was just a lucky shot, but the two little shits were back soon enough, able to breeze through the defensive line with ease. He blocked Patel’s shot on the goal, but not Josten’s. The next time he stymied Josten several times, until he stumbled after one block and Josten fed the ball to Patel for a perfect shot at an open spot in the goal.

What the two rookies lacked in experience, they made up for in teamwork and perseverance and lightning quick reflexes, in being able to pounce on Andrew’s growing slips from exhaustion and withdrawal. Wymack yanked Nicky and Renee to put Boyd and Aaron back in for a better defense, but Patel infuriated Aaron with her taunts while Boyd didn’t seem to know what to do with a striker half his size who refused to go down – who laughed and called him fucking weak when Boyd _tried_ to knock him down. It didn’t help that Kevin and Gordon couldn’t keep the damn ball on the other side of the court at all, either.

Each time Andrew thought he’d figured out Josten’s and Patel’s playing style they switched things up on him, and his mind was in too much of a fugue at that point to make a connection he knew would come to him soon enough. All he could do was push on, to push down the growing sense of nausea and urge to claw off his own skin, to lay down on the wood floor and never get back up.

Josten scored one more point before the buzzer signaled the end of the game, putting the final score at sixteen to four in the Ravens’ favor. Andrew had never given up that many points in an official game in his high school or collegiate career, and it was one of the worst in the Foxes’ history. The only saving grace was that they’d fared better than the last few teams who’d gone up against the Ravens.

While the Ravens’ fans in the stadium roared in victory, Andrew’s racquet fell from his hands, which were numb for some reason. He bent over to pick it up, more than a little dizzy at the moment, and could only manage to lift it a foot or so off the floor before it slipped from his grasp again. To hell with it, he decided and fell down on his ass.

As the court doors opened and the rest of the teams spilled out from the inner ring, Boyd and Aaron came over to Andrew. “Holy shit, you blocked over a hundred and seventy shots on the goal,” Boyd said in an almost reverent tone. “That’s incredible.”

“I wouldn’t have to work so damn hard if the rest of you didn’t suck so much,” Andrew muttered as he fumbled off his helmet, which made his brother huff in amusement. He looked up to see Kevin approach the goal with his racquet resting against his right shoulder and his expression solemn. “What?”

“Did you have fun?” Kevin asked.

Andrew debated throwing his helmet at the bastard but didn’t have the energy. "You are despicable, Kevin Day. I don't know why I keep you around." All he knew was that someone better keep their promise after all of this shit.

Before Kevin could say something about Exy, Riko’s annoying voice rang out and ruined an already lousy moment. "Foxes. I admit I'm at a loss as to what to do now. I can’t thank you for the night's game because I can't call this debacle a game,” he proclaimed as he approached the Foxes with the Ravens at his back, Josten and Moreau just out of reach. The Foxes turned to face him, all of them except Kevin who stared at Andrew; he glanced at a blank-faced Josten then gave him a slight nod. “I thought I knew what to expect when we came here tonight, but I am still embarrassed on your behalf. You have fallen so far, Kevin. You should have stayed down and saved us the trouble of forcing you back to your knees."

"I'm satisfied," Kevin said, his voice steady as he held Andrew’s gaze to show that he wasn’t bothered with Riko there or their plan for later. Apparently the Ravens were shocked to hear that their formerly revered number ‘2’ was satisfied with losing because they looked just shy of losing their shit. "Not with their score or performance, but with their spirit. I was right. There's more than enough here for me to work with."

"How many balls did you take to the helmet?" a Raven asked with evident concern.

A good question, since Andrew knew the Exy junkie would be yelling at the Foxes come Monday morning about everything they’d messed up during the evening’s game. Yet Kevin was holding it together right then when faced with his old teammates and partner, and should be all right when confronted with Riko and Tetsuji shortly since he knew Andrew and Wymack had his back. The Foxes might not have met the Ravens as equals that night, but they also hadn’t been complete failures for once.

Kevin helped Andrew onto his feet, and Renee was quick to wrap her arms around him when Kevin stepped aside; Andrew tolerated her quick hug since it allowed him a moment to find his balance. When he could mostly stand on his own, he noticed that Josten was once more eyeing him with interest.

"Thank you for the game tonight," Kevin said as he nodded to the Ravens. "We’ll see you again at semifinals,” he added as a slight dig, still not giving up on that dream. “It _will_ be an interesting rematch, I promise."

Riko wasn’t happy about that, with Kevin remaining calm in his presence and hopeful after the game. "One man cannot carry you that far," he argued, his face twisted with disgust. "Even you are not stupid enough to believe that. You should give up now."

"One is enough to start with,” Kevin told him as he let his racquet slide down to the floor.

Again, Riko wasn’t happy and spat out something in Japanese which made Kevin sigh and glance at Andrew before answering back with a slight nod. Ah, what would _that_ be, hmm?

When things were quiet at last, Wilds spoke in a rush. "Thanks for nothing and good night. We're out of here." She motioned toward the open court door, and the Foxes were quick to pick up on the hint to leave despite skipping the whole stupid handshake thing. Renee gave a slight wave to Patel as she walked forward with her arm still around Andrew’s shoulders as if just two friends strolling together, when she was really helping to keep him on his feet so he could make it back to the locker room.

He barely reached the bathroom before throwing up; Renee left to fetch him one of his meds and a bottle of water, which she set on a folded towel, before joining the rest of the Foxes back out on the inner court. After what felt like forever but was just a couple of minutes, Andrew was able to swallow the pill and keep it down.

It took a few more minutes to do anything for him, leaving him in that awful state of the sweats and churning stomach and invasive itch and… and it had still been worth it, especially when the damn buzz crept through his veins and the mania seeped back into his brain. When he could feel his lips curl back up into the detested smile. As soon as he could stand without falling down, he went to his locker to fetch a small flask out of his bag, which he drained in a couple of swallows, then went to shower.

By the time he was clean and the worst of the withdrawal effects were gone, Wymack seemed to have finished his latest terrible pep-talk and told the Foxes to go wash up before they could hit Abby’s for the night. Andrew gave Gordon a pointed look as the striker walked past him, and Wymack nodded once. While he waited, Andrew went to check his phone and found a few pictures posted on the Ravens’ Instagram account from earlier in the day.

The latest ones were from the Ravens traveling to PSU, and of course the fans were more than happy with the image of Moreau sprawled out with his head on Josten's lap. There was another one with the partners sitting up, that time with Josten sleeping, his head resting on Moreau's shoulder. Part of Andrew wanted to scoff and say that they were doing it for the publicity, but there was a lack of tension in the two young men when they were around each other that was obvious, especially when Andrew looked at the pictures of them with other Ravens - or whenever Riko was near.

He'd just put his phone away when the Foxes started to return to the lounge area, excited about the after-game party and seemingly recovered from their loss. Kevin was a bit quiet, as expected when he had to deal with the asshole Moriyamas, and Wymack waited until everyone was there to clear his throat. "Okay, there's something I need to take care of here first, so the rest of you head on over to Abby's and I'll meet up with you soon. Oh, and Seth? I need your help moving something in the office."

Already moving toward Reynolds as if to ask her for a ride, Gordon paused to give their coach a disbelieving look. "What, me? Can't you ask one of the monsters for help?"

"My office, now, Gordon," Wymack snapped as he motioned to the room. "You can wait half an hour to get drunk."

"Ah hell," Gordon whined as he shuffled his feet and glared at nothing in particular, while Reynolds waved goodbye to him with a too-sweet smile - Andrew was going to guess that they were still on the outs. Meanwhile he nodded to his brother and cousin, whom he'd warned ahead of time that they'd need to ride with Abby to her house.

There were curious looks from the rest of the Foxes once it was clear that he and Kevin were staying, too, but Renee was quick to get them out the door. Wymack patted Kevin on the back. "I've got extra security by the Away team locker rooms, so it'll be all right. If there's any trouble, just yell or call."

Kevin gave him a slight smile. "There won't be, not here. They're just going to try to tell me how much of a mistake I'm making, which I know isn't true."

"No, and you proved that to them tonight by not letting them walk all over you. I'm proud of you, son."

For some reason those words made Kevin's back straighten and his smile strengthen, and he strode out of the locker room with a determined step. Not for the first time, Andrew was left trying to figure out how Kevin could crumble under certain pressure yet brace himself up so well at moments when Andrew was sure he'd fail. All that mattered was that he didn't in the end, Andrew supposed.

The door didn't close all the way behind Kevin - it opened again to let two figures step quietly into the lounge, one on silent feet. Oh, Andrew would have to remember the fact that Josten could be a sneaky bastard when he wanted, Moreau's soft tread masking his entirely as the two Ravens stepped further into the Foxes' meeting area. "Huh, not impressed," Josten remarked as he eyed the walls with its photos and the worn furniture.

Wymack gave him a sour look before heading to the office. "No bloodshed."

"You're no fun, Coach," Andrew remarked; when he turned back to the two Ravens, it was to find that Moreau was coming right at him.

Reflexes a little off from the exhausting game and the recent withdrawal, Andrew still managed to get a knife out and up around the time that Moreau grabbed him by the front of his black long-sleeved t-shirt. "You don't threaten Neil ever again, you filthy degenerate," Frenchie hissed despite the weapon waved in his face while Josten babbled something in French and tried to shove his way in-between his partner and Andrew.

"Let go before you lose those fingers," Andrew warned with a wide grin even as the urge to slash out built up inside of him, perfectly serious about the threat. Oh, someone was protective, how cute.

"I will _break_ you, Doe. I will-"

"Not now, Jean!" Josten said something in French that made Moreau release Andrew with a disgusted huff before he did lose a few fingers, his expression furious and hands clenched into fists.

"Don't ever come near him," Moreau said. "Gutter trash like you should have been put down long ago."

Aw, someone wasn't a fan, how sad. "Harsh words from Riko's obedient little lap dog," Andrew taunted. "I didn't think you could say anything that he didn't tell you to in the-"

" _Don't_." Now it was Josten in his personal space, which was a much prettier picture, considering the way those blue eyes lit up and that particular face. Hmm, so nice not to have to look up so much, too. Yet Andrew didn’t like anyone crowding him, no matter how pretty. “Don’t talk-”

Andrew grinned as he reached out to grab hold of Josten’s shirt with his left hand so he could shove the mouthy little shit away, and just like back at the banquet, it ended with Josten pulling a knife as well, with those blue eyes going wide and Josten breathing heavy when Andrew grabbed at his right wrist to stop that blade from stabbing into him. Part of him wondering how things had gone from insults to attempted homicide so quickly (so much for that ‘no bloodshed’, but he hadn’t promised, had he?), Andrew squeezed hard on Josten’s wrist in an attempt to make the idiot let go, but it had no effect – well, no, Josten tried even _harder_ to ventilate his throat.

“Neil! Merde!” Moreau finally did something and wrapped his arms around his partner in an attempt to pull him back or something. “C'est bon, diable, tout va bien!”

“Any day-“

“Ferme ta grosse gueule!” Moreau glared at Andrew as he finally managed to haul a panting Josten away; he wrapped his partner in his arms and murmured French to him until Josten seemed to snap back to the present and slump against Moreau.

It was just a guess, but Andrew was going to say that Josten wasn’t a fan of people grabbing him, either.

He felt a sourness roil in his stomach at the sight of Moreau being able to calm Josten down with softly spoken French and gentle touches to his hair, the gestures reminiscent of what a parent might do to a child (not that anyone had ever treated Andrew like that) – there was nothing remotely sexual to them, just a clear indication of closeness and affection and trust. Josten took a shuddering breath as he snapped the blade of his knife closed and scowled at Andrew. “Leave Jean out of this,” he demanded in a hoarse voice, his face a haggard mask.

“He started it,” Andrew said, then rolled his eyes at how childish that had come out. “He leaves me alone and I’ll leave him alone.”

“I won’t have you talk to Neil as if he’s-“

“Jean.” Josten sounded bone-tired as he patted his partner’s arms before stepping away. “I can take care of myself. Besides, a literal ill-bred bastard like Minyard can’t do much to me, he’s pure minor leagues,” he added while throwing Andrew a contemptuous look.

“You’re not giving me enough credit,” Andrew remarked as he flipped his own knife once before sliding it back into the armband.

Josten’s smile took on that too-cruel edge once again. “You think because you give _Riko_ pause that you’re the big scary monster in the room? What are those meds they have you on? Certainly not for delusion,” he scoffed. “Day hasn’t been telling you the right stories, apparently.”

Mindful of Wymack and Gordon in the office, Andrew smiled and shook his head. “He’s scary enough to tug at your father’s leash, no?”

That startled a bright laugh from Josten and an uneasy glance from Moreau. “Oh, no, not quite.” Josten held his right forefinger up to his lips, and Andrew could see that his wrist would be bearing another band of dark bruises soon enough – bruises that _Andrew_ had put there, that time. The thought made Andrew’s stomach twist with disgust.  “That was just a simple transaction, not hierarchy. Day should have paid more attention, but then again, the only thing that matters to him is Exy – not what’s going on around him, not the people who rely upon him, not mongrels baring their teeth for him.”

Panic attacks one minute and vicious jabs another, Josten was one fucked up idiot, wasn’t he? Andrew gave him a level look as he pulled out his pack of cigarettes and lit one, and noticed the way that Josten’s eyes clouded over for a moment at the first exhale of smoke. “It seems that you know a lot. What’ll it cost to get you to share some of that information?”

The malice-laden grin returned. “With a backstabbing asshole like you? Oh… much too much. Your coach did say no blood, after all.”

Andrew grunted as he exhaled some smoke through his nose. “How about a truth for a truth? We only have to admit what we want, but no lies when we do exchange something.” It was a risk, but he didn’t think he’d get anything out of Josten unless he offered something up himself – didn’t think he’d get much past insults and clever verbal jabs. It wasn’t often that he ran into someone with defenses as thick as his own, after all.

Josten scoffed at that while Moreau cast a deliberate look at the door leading to the inner part of the stadium. “Right, as if a betraying bastards like you know the meaning of that word – truth.”

“Then let me start off,” Andrew offered. “Oi! Coach! We’re ready now,” he called out while he watched Josten, who’d tensed up as if he expected some sort of trap.

“It’s about time, I want to leave at some point tonight,” Wymack grumbled as he came out of the orrice, while Gordon rushed out right behind him.

“What the hell? Those are Ravens!” Gordon pointed to Moreau and Josten – Moreau had stepped out in front as if to protect his partner. “What are they doing here? Don’t tell me we’re taking them in, too!”

Moreau snorted in derision at that. “I would rather die in shame first than join this wretched team. What is the point of this?”

Andrew smiled at Josten. “We were just talking about how _Neil_ had been hoping to finish up a quiet senior year at Millport and sneak on out to Edgar Allan without anyone being all the wiser, weren’t we, _Neil_?”

“What are-“

Josten cut off his partner and glared at Andrew with blatant loathing. “Something like that, but then you had to go ruin things with that forum post, you fuc-“

“Wait, Minyard?” Gordon laughed and clapped his hands together in delight. “You think _he_ did it? He can’t be bothered with that social media shit. No, it was me,” the striker gloated, just as Andrew had counted on after listening to the asshole rant and rave about all the attention Josten had been receiving the last several months, about how popular he was becoming, about how he was certain to have a spot in the pros since he was a Raven and Perfect Court. “ _I_ put up that post,” he didn’t seem to notice how Wymack was glowering at him just then, “so _I’m_ the one who fucked up your summer or whatever.”

Josten was quiet as he stared intently at Gordon for a couple of seconds, while Moreau hovered around him as if ready to latch on to him if necessary. “Seth Gordon.” It sounded as if Josten was testing out the name or something. “You’re a starting striker for the Foxes only because they can’t do any better,” he said, his smile just then so forbidding that Andrew knew Gordon would regret his impulsive act for a very, very long time. “In fact, if it weren’t for the Foxes, you wouldn’t be playing Exy at all, not with your lack of skill and dedication.”

“Josten,” Wymack warned as he took a step forward; Andrew noticed how Josten flinched at that and threw an arm out to stop the man.

“Listen you little shit,” Gordon growled out, but Josten ignored him.

“No, you’d be fighting in a bar somewhere, or in rehab if you hadn’t already OD’ed. Because you know you’re _nothing_ ,” Josten continued while still smiling. “It’s why you have to fight with everyone because they’re better than you, why you have to try to tear them down because you’re nothing but a jealous-“

“Josten! I won’t let you talk to my players like that!”

Smiling despite the way he’d flinched again, Josten looked up at Wymack, his right hand in the pocket which he’d put back his knife. “Did I lie?”

Wymack gaped at him while Gordon cursed Josten out, his own arm thrown out to keep the striker from going after the idiot. “You’ve got problems, kid.”

“I’m gonna kill him!”

“No, you’re not.” Wymack shoved Gordon back to his office. “You’ll be lucky I won’t kill _you_ for what the hell you did,” he yelled at the moron.

“But Coach, I-“

“Shut up.”

Josten continued to smile for a few more seconds before the expression melted away, to be replaced by one of extreme weariness. Before Andrew could say anything, though, there was a soft chiming sound and Moreau reached into his pocket to pull out a sleek phone. “Day is on his way,” he announced.

“Back home for us,” Josten said, sounding as tired as he looked.

“What about that agreement?” Andrew asked before they could leave.

Halfway to the door, Josten paused and turned enough to look at him. He seemed to debate things for a moment, teeth biting into his full bottom lip while he did, and then nodded. “I don’t consider that to be your truth, though, so you still have to start.”

“You’ll get to ask something the next time we talk. Tomorrow?”

Josten shook his head. “We’ll have to practice tomorrow afternoon to make up for what we missed with the travel. The same time on Sunday,” he counteroffered.

It would have to do – it would take time to get any real truths out that way, but with someone like Josten… no, moving fast wouldn’t work. It was clear that they were too much alike, and Andrew would never open up if someone pushed too hard too soon. Look at how long it had taken Bee to get anywhere with him. “That’s fine.”

There was a quick nod to seal the agreement and then the two little birdies were gone. Andrew had just flicked aside his cigarette and the yelling the office quieted down when Kevin returned.

The Exy junkie’s face was a bit pale and his green eyes shadowed, but his expression was resolved. “Here to pack your bags?” Andrew asked as Wymack once again rushed out of the office.

“Very funny.” Kevin glared at him but smiled in relief at the sight of Wymack. “It’s like we thought – they tried to get me to return, to make an ultimatum about leaving the Foxes by the end of this semester, but I told them ‘no’.”

“Great, so we’re stuck with you,” Andrew sighed, which made Wymack _and_ Kevin glare at him.

“Right now I’m wondering why we’re stuck with a ray of sunshine like _you_ ,” Wymack muttered. “And Seth! Get your ass out here, we’re leaving.”

“Finally!” Gordon came stomping out of the office and gave Andrew the finger as he headed for the exit. “About damn time!”

“We’re not done talking about what you did, though!” Wymack gave chase, which left Andrew and Kevin as the last two to leave. At Kevin’s curious look, Andrew shrugged.

“Gordon was so kind as to reveal to Coach and Josten that he was behind the forum posts about you trying to recruit Josten.”

Kevin’s expression hardened upon hearing that. “I knew it, not like it does much good now.” Oh, it did a lot of good, if it meant that Josten didn’t blame Andrew anymore. He doubted that they were the best of friends at the moment, but it could prove very valuable, talking to a little birdy so close to Riko.

“I need a drink. Come on, let’s get to Abby’s,” Kevin groaned, and for once, Andrew agreed with the pain in the ass.

*******

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *******  
> There you go. A little more forward movement on the Neil and Andrew front! Just a little. And not to play down Andrew's amazing achievements during the Raven game, but the Foxes didn't have Neil on the team with them - they still have Gordon who still isn't working 100% with Kevin and Yee who doesn't have Neil's ability, so that's holding them back a bit. And Neil and Marley did so well against Andrew because of him being on the meds/Riko and the rest of the Ravens wearing him down (as well as them specifically working on something for him).
> 
> OMFG, I really need to start doing some small time jumps soon. REALLY. WHY DO I DO THIS TO MYSELF???
> 
> Is there an official name for the Raven cheerleaders?
> 
> OMFG!!! (in a good way!) There has been some AMAZING [fanart](https://78.media.tumblr.com/4fbb0131754ec9fbfa60b3fbea3067d5/tumblr_oxk895Lqql1tvmxceo2_1280.png) of Neil and Jean (this is one I can link to - not sure if the other one wanted it public and I can't seem to link to something else did which was so damn cute and funny about Neil and kale....
> 
> One more thing - so there'll be another chapter of this fic next Sunday (unless something messes up my posting schedule), but there should be Wednesday posts for a while! I have the ExyorDeath zine fics which can go up now. So, which one do you want first? ANGST or not so much angst? There's the Andrew in juvie being recruited by the Ravens or the Neil and Jean in the Nest fics to pick from first - I'll be leaving the REALLY LONG one for last.
> 
> I think that's it?
> 
> As always, the comments and kudos are greatly appreciated.


	8. Who Saves the Savior?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, and we start time jumping a little here. This fic is probably going to be long enough *whimpers* that we need to start speeding things up a little. Nothing massive, at least for now, but we're covering a few weeks in this chapter. 
> 
> And I hope I'm not messing things up w/ the teams (have to consult list). Covering things so closely and dealing with TWO teams playing every week is giving me FITS. Especially since the books never listed all of the teams in the SE division or where they're located and... I've already ranted to people about this. BAH.
> 
> Trigger warning? Towards the very last part of the fic there's some violence and veering towards non-con that you should be familiar with because of the books/already in the fic, but it's not explicit and brief and... well, you'll see. You can always reach out to me on [Tumblr](http://nekojitachan.tumblr.com/) (nekojitachan) if you have any questions.
> 
> Also, much thanks to Fall-For-The-Game to reading over this to correct my mistakes! Any remaining ones are all my own.  
> *******

*******

Neil and Jean did their best to get some sleep on the ride back to Edgar Allan, uncertain as they were about Riko’s mood – Jean had prevented Day from scoring all but one point while he’d been on the court (and that hadn’t really been his fault, as he’d been out of the striker’s reach at the time), and Neil had managed to score a few points on Andrew, enough to smash the goalie’s previous record to bits and prove that he couldn’t stand up to the Ravens.

Yet Riko was Riko, and it was obvious that his little talk with Day hadn’t gone well, that Riko’s intention of utterly annihilating the Foxes hadn’t gone to plan – not when Minyard had spent the entire game in the goal. Not when the team had shown some sort of cohesion (barely).

The two of them got a couple of hours at least, and when they reached the campus, Neil braced himself for the worst.

Yet Riko merely stormed off into the Nest while Tetsuji held up his hand when Neil, Jean, Marley and Meg disembarked the bus. “Patel, you’re now number 24,” he told her before walking away, while a bleary-eyed Marley stared after him in shock.

“But….”

“You and Adams are switching,” Jean murmured as he pushed Neil forward with a gentle hand on his back. “No word about partners, so you and Meg are still roommates for the time being.”

“Oh my god, I’m so happy for you,” Meg exclaimed as she gave her partner a hug. “One day I’ll be able to say ‘I knew her’!”

Marley gave a one arm hug back before she picked up Jean’s bag as well as hers – Meg was quick to snatch up Neil’s bag before he could. “You’ll get there, too.”

Meg gave a self-depreciating smile. “I know I’m good, but you guys… there’s something about you guys. I wouldn’t have thought to do what you did with the Foxes earlier. It’s why you’ll make Court, and I’m fine with that. I just want to play as long as I can.”

There wasn’t much to say about that just then, and Neil was too tired to care, really. All he wanted was to get to his room and see if there was any sort of ‘surprise’ waiting for him and Jean, and with that in mind, they took their bags back from the girls in the hallway near their room while Jean told Marley a stern ‘good night’ (barely, they had a couple of hours left before dawn) before they parted ways.

No one was waiting for them in their room. Neil slumped against the closed door while Jean muttered something quiet in French for a moment, before they wasted little time getting ready for bed since they only had a few hours of sleep before Tetsuji would expect them back out on the court. That ‘night’, they slept with Jean’s right arm firm around Neil’s chest and Neil’s knife clenched in his hand.

Riko was busy doing non-Raven related Exy stuff for the weekend, which meant that Neil dealt with Tollis and Engle fighting to prove that they were the best strikers with the ‘king’ gone, that Neil bearing a ‘4’ was a mistake and Marley should still be ‘32’. Saturday’s practice was brutal and seemed to be one continuous body-slam after another… and Neil couldn’t stop grinning despite all of the new bruises. He wasn’t going to let them beat him down, wasn’t going to let them win. The more they tried to break him, the harder he’d hit them back, the deeper he’d dig his fingers in to hold on and refuse to let go.

He might not be the brightest, the strongest or the most talented, but he could outlast anyone on that court, dammit. He knew how to keep moving forward, to not give in, to push past the pain and exhaustion and _everything_. Tetsuji and Riko didn’t have it in them to break him, neither did Tollis and Engle or the rest of the Ravens – not out on court, at least.

Especially not with Marley running near him while laughing and shouting out some ridiculous insult to Loiseau, not while Jean called him a lazy devil in French to let him know the ball was coming his way.

Despite being tired and battered and covered in bruises, Saturday was a good day. Ivanova, McPherson, Lau, Anders, Hebig, Chen and Archer came over during dinner to congratulate Marley for moving up another number, and a couple of other Ravens high-fived her in the hallway.

Marley didn’t say anything about the mottled bruise on her cheek, but judging from the dirty looks Meg kept sending Tollis’ way and the darkening black eye on the older striker’s face… well, Neil didn’t need things spelled out. Jean was right in that there were some fights she needed to handle by herself, and it looked as if she was doing fine so far on her own.

Sunday things were back to normal, at least in regards to their schedule. There was the early morning workout session followed by breakfast, a short break, and then a practice session where Neil took great delight in bruising Federov’s ribs with a particularly brutal check which would have gotten him red-carded during a real game when the bastard tried to trip him up with his racquet.

Some of his good mood dampened when they returned to their room, where they would spend the rest of the day (barring going out for meals), with a cup of Darjeeling tea in hand for Neil and coffee for Jean. Once the door was closed behind them and Neil did a quick check of the room for any bugs, he dug out the burner phone from where he’d hidden it in his closet before he sank down on the bed next to Jean and called Minyard.

“You’re two minutes late,” the asshole told him in a bored tone of voice.

Neil forced himself to take a sip of tea before he started cursing out the goalie; all right, so perhaps Minyard hadn’t been the one to make the forum post that had brought the Moriyamas down on him, but he was still a fucking asshole, was someone who had delighted in hitting him with his own racquet back in Millport and blackmailing him with these phone calls for some damn reason (something to do with Day, probably). “What, you have something better to do? Pray tell, what, exactly? Other people to blackmail or beat up? Exy practice to ignore?”

There was the sound of a long exhale of breath and then a faint scoff on the other line. “Some of us have lives that don’t revolve around a stupid game.”

“Which is why we beat your ass the other night,” Neil pointed out as he leaned a little more against Jean’s side, the phone held at an angle so Jean could listen in on the conversation.

“Do you do anything other than play your precious stickball game?” Minyard asked, sounding even more bored than before.

“I thought I was the one who got to ask for a truth,” Neil reminded him before sipping his tea.

There was another pause in the conversation while it sounded as if Minyard inhaled on a cigarette; for a moment, Neil remembered that night on the beach in California, remembered staring into the flames while the acrid stench of burning metal and plastic and gasoline and flesh filled the air. He started when Minyard resumed speaking and shivered a little, only to smile when Jean’s right arm draped over his shoulders. “It’s called ‘conversation’, little birdy. Try doing something other than Exy for once.”

“Very amusing.” Neil slurped his tea just to annoy the asshole. “Hmm, let’s see, for some reason I think there’s something about books and studying, but I can’t remember why I do those things. I mean, it’s not like I’m a college student or anything. No, I just play Exy twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. My secret’s out.” Beside him, Jean huffed in-between sips of his coffee.

“You certainly don’t practice having a sense of humor,” Minyard remarked. “I’ll take that to mean you don’t do much more than studying and Exy.”

“Why do you care?” Neil asked as he set the empty mug aside. “I think that’s my truth from you – why the hell are you doing this?” He could wait to ask about Minyard and his drugs another time, but right then he wanted to know why the hell he was stuck risking things with these damn calls.

Minyard was quiet for a moment before he clicked his tongue. “I suppose I was expecting this, though really, quite the lack of imagination there, Josten.”

“Answer the damn question,” Jean ground out as he leaned closer to the phone. “I, too, am curious as to why you’re inflicting your distasteful presence on our lives.”

“And finally Frenchie speaks up,” Minyard drawled. “I know there’s the whole partner thing, but can’t you two do anything separate?”

“It’s probably difficult for an asshole like you to grasp,” Neil said with a smile even though Minyard couldn’t see it, “considering that I doubt anyone wants a thing to do with you. Hence the blackmail to get anyone to talk to you.”

There was another moment of silence, which led Neil to wonder if he’d hit a sore spot. “Again, I’d make the time to practice on that sense of humor, little bird. Now for your truth, since I’m sure you don’t have much time.” Minyard hummed for a couple of seconds as if organizing his thoughts. “I’m not pleased with Riko’s continuing attempts to regain a partner he was foolish enough to damage and throw away, so I’ve decided that I’m going to befriend a little birdie, teach him to sing a few pretty songs and all and be my best buddy.”

That was so absurd that Neil laughed at it while Jean groaned and rubbed his face while muttering curses beneath his breath. “Seriously? Did you practice a few too many times without a helmet or something? That’s _not_ going to happen.” He wasn’t going to spy for Minyard of all people.

“Oh, I think so,” Minyard replied in an even tone. “Because I don’t think you want Kevin back in your little Nest there, not when you’re doing so well this season, not when you let me know about Riko’s plans the other night so he could prepare himself for it, and definitely not because if he goes back, Riko will find out that Frenchie helped him escape.”

Jean paled at that while rage boiled through Neil’s veins. “I told you to leave Jean out of this, you fucking bastard.”

“You wanted the truth and I told you it,” Minyard said. “It’s to both our benefits that you let me know what Riko’s planning.”

“And that just so happens to put me in a lot of danger, doing it,” Neil said through gritted teeth while Jean continued to curse softly. “Such a peach, you are. A completely rotten one.”

“Then I’ll owe you a favor at some point,” Minyard offered. “Truth for truth, favor for favor, that’s how this works.”

“This isn’t some silly game, salaud,” Jean hissed into the phone. “We won’t be as fortunate as Kevin if Riko catches us.”

“Don’t do anything stupid, then. But it seems to me that the more Riko gets his way, the more powerful he becomes, yes?”

Unfortunately, Minyard was right; Neil shared a look with Jean before he sighed. “I reserve the right to skip calls if it looks too risky,” he told the asshole. “And you better bet that the favor will be a big one. I also think that barely constitutes as a truth, especially since I’ve already ‘helped’ you out on something, so I’ll be expecting another one next week, you asshole.” He had no idea what he’d ask of Minyard, what he could ask of the young man considering their circumstances, but he’d make Minyard pay up one way or another. For a moment Seth Gordon flickered through Neil’s mind, but he doubted that Minyard would be willing to make his own teammate suffer, and besides, Neil already had plans for the striker.

“Understood, though I’ll have to question things if it happens too often.”

“I can’t make any promises, not with Riko,” Neil told him. “Now we have to go.”

“Until next Saturday.”

“Go back to your kennel, Doe,” Jean said before he took the phone from Neil and ended the call. “How unpleasant.

“Yes.” Neil sighed as he rested his head on Jean’s shoulder. “ _What is Day giving him to help keep him safe from Riko_?”

“ _Perhaps some of the money he made from endorsements? That is, if it was left entirely in his name and not in a joint account with Tetsuji_ ,” Jean surmised.

“ _Who knows_?” Neil only allowed himself to close his eyes for a moment or two before he forced himself to get up and hide the phone away. “ _I doubt he’s doing it because he’s a fan_.”

“ _Or because of Kevin’s stellar personality_ ,” Jean huffed.

That too. Neil returned to the bed with his homework so he could spend the next couple of hours catching up on what needed done for the week, and it was a quiet day after that.

The week went by much as usual, with the team preparing for their home game against Breckinridge. Riko returned and Neil took a few nasty hits out on the court, gained a few sore ribs, but it had gotten to a point that he didn’t know what it felt like anymore to not be sore and bruised and aching, that he didn’t just move past the pain because… because what other choice did he have? At least he was playing Exy, he had three meals a day (most of the time), a clean bed at night and a partner he trusted at his back.

They were practicing on Wednesday afternoon when Nakamura came onto court with a tall, imposing young woman dressed in a form fitting black dress which showed off her athletic build – muscular shoulders, thighs and arms – her black hair in tiny braids pulled back in a loose, low ponytail and dark skin gleaming beneath Castle Evermore’s lights. It took Neil a moment to recognize Thea Muldani when she wasn’t dressed in either a Ravens or Sirens’ uniform, but he had to admit that she was just as impressive in ‘casual’ clothes. Judging from the looks of interest on several of the Ravens’ faces, she was more than impressive.

“Oh hell, that’s _Muldani_ ,” Marley squeaked.

“Yes, the goddess herself.” Jean didn’t sound very impressed, but then again, he knew her and had played with her as a Raven.

Muldani went over to Tetsuji and gave him a respectful bow before talking for several minutes, while the Ravens came as close to fidgeting as they ever got while out on court. Once the two were done, Tetsuji smacked his cane one time onto the wooden floor and called for them to start another skirmish.

Neil and Marley slammed down their face masks and held their racquets at the ready, and as soon as McPherson let loose the ball, the game began. Tollis, Engle, Lau (well not so much her), Federov and Loiseau tried to grind them into the floor, as always, but they refused to go down, refused to give up any points and with Jean, Hebig and Ivanova behind them, they went on to win the skirmish.

It was an exhausting twenty minutes, but despite the new bruises and the sweat soaking his jersey and bandana, Neil smiled from the pure joy of it, from the ache in his muscles and the burn in his lungs and the sensation of being _alive_. Of having Jean at his back and Marley at his side, of having people around him just as dedicated to the brutal sport of Exy as he was, at knowing that no matter what they felt or thought about each other, they all agreed about one thing – they wouldn’t stop until they were the best.

Well, maybe not so much Jean, but he’d have Neil’s back anyway.

“Moreau, Josten, Patel.”

Neil spun around upon hearing Tetsuji call out his name, part of him detesting that automatic conditioning while another acknowledged it as a means of survival. Meg ran out to grab their racquets before they went to see what their ‘Master’ wanted, their helmets cradled in their left arms, while their coach and Muldani gave them critical looks.

“I believe I don’t need to introduce our guest,” Tetsuji said, his tone as inflectionless as always.

“Thea Muldani, starting backliner for the Sirens, US Court, number 14 for the Ravens,” Marley rattled off without breathing, her attention focused on the older woman. “Uhm… it’s an honor to meet you.”

For a couple of seconds Muldani stood there with a decidedly firm expression on her face, and then a slight smile curved her glossy lips. “The Sirens have a match in the area tomorrow, and I have to admit, I wanted to come here after seeing the Ravens’ game on Friday. It’s not often I find a young woman in Exy who reminds me a bit of myself, and playing for the Ravens? I like that.” Then her expression returned to that hardness from before. “That said, you’re weak on picking up open shots, you need to work on that. Josten feeds you passes way too much. You’re not going to get into the teens let alone anywhere near Court until you improve.”

Jean smiled at that, his expression much like the cat which had caught the singing canary, while Marley’s face broke out in blotchy red patches of embarrassment. “I know, I know! I’m working on it, _this one_ ,” she nodded in Jean’s direction, “keeps reminding me of that fact.”

“Then no excuses, get better,” Muldani told her. “You’re a Raven, you _exceed_.” When Marley nodded at that, some of her expression softened. “I expect to see you in the pros in another few years, and at Court soon after that.”

While Marley babbled something in agreement, Muldani looked at Jean and jerked her head to the side. “Let’s talk.” She then walked away, and after a moment’s hesitation, Jean followed.

Neil followed, too, unwilling to let his partner face anything alone, especially when he picked up that sense of hesitation.

Muldani gave him a narrowed look at first, but when he stood right next to Jean and Jean didn’t object, she arched an eyebrow at that and then widened her eyes. “Really? Since when do you finally have a partner?”

“Since now,” Neil told her as he tilted his left cheek better for her to see it. “So whatever you have to say to him, you say to me.”

“I… okay.” For a moment something like sorrow crossed over her face, to be replaced by a bittersweet smile. “It’s about time you have someone, Jean.”

Jean was quiet for a moment before he reached over to give Neil’s hair a quick tousle. “I don’t believe you’re here to talk about my partner. And while I’m sure you have a sincere interest in Patel, I don’t think you’re here just for her, either.”

“No, though it _is_ good to see that there’s another promising woman player.” Muldani eyed Neil for a few seconds. “The Master said that you’re helping her – the both of you are.”

Neil glanced at Jean before he answered. “We’re doing what we can for her and her partner,” was all he said, but he gave her a flat look while he spoke.

Something must have registered for Muldani because she let out a slow breath and shook her head. “She’s got talent so that… do what you can, all right? It wasn’t so bad when I started out, but that was before-“ Her lips pressed together and she shook her head fast enough for the ends of her braids to snap around like mini-whips. “I came here for a reason, and Patel was only part of it,” she stated. “You played the Foxes last week.” That seemed directed at Jean. “How was Kevin?”

“What makes you think I had any contact with Kevin?” Jean asked, his voice mild even though there was a slight bit of tension in his lean frame; Neil doubted anyone who wasn’t intimately familiar with him could pick up on it, though.

Muldani made a rude noise as she flicked a few braids back over her shoulder. “I don’t know, maybe because you were the closest thing to a friend he had here besides Riko? Are you honestly telling me that you didn’t talk to him at all?”

Jean nodded once. “Yes, I’m telling you that. I haven’t had any contact with him since he’s left outside of the banquet in September, and there wasn’t much then. He’s made it clear that he chose the Foxes over us and has no desire to have anything to do with the Ravens anymore.”

That was the truth, pretty much.

“How-“ Muldani seemed upset to learn that, her hands taken to gripping her elbows and her expression bothered. “He hasn’t even talked to _me_ since last December,” she admitted. “And I’m-“ she eyed Neil and shook her head again. “Why is he doing this? Why would he leave the Ravens? Why would he go to the _Foxes_?” The amount of derision she felt for that team was plain.

Jean shrugged in a nonchalant manner, something he was very good at doing. “You’ll have to ask him, since he isn’t speaking to me. He’s not willingly speaking to anyone who’s a Raven, it seems. All I know is that he and Riko had a falling out.”

That was one hell of a way of putting it, yes.

Resolve made Muldani’s expression harden. “You just said that he isn’t speaking to any _Raven_. Well, he didn’t reach out to me when he was injured, didn’t let me know he was leaving Edgar Allan, didn’t tell me about joining the Foxes or any of this. Why should I go crawling to him, dammit!” Yet Neil thought he could see tears shimmering in her eyes and wondered if perhaps that Muldani wasn’t upset about a former _teammate_.

It was one thing to leave behind the people who played along aside of you, but if his suspicions were correct… to say nothing to someone who cared about you?

Kevin Day was one hell of an asshole.

Jean seemed to be thinking much of the same thing, since his expression softened somewhat. “I don’t know what to say, Thea. I cannot answer for him, I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, I know.” She straightened up her shoulders and scoffed a little. “I knew it was a longshot, but I tried, right?” She nodded to the two of them. “Keep working with Patel, all right? Exy needs more women in it, you assholes need someone to slap you down from time to time.”

Neil thought he might understand why Marley idolized this woman so much. “Perhaps start messaging her about her weak offense from time to time, Jean’s getting hoarse bitching about it.”

Muldani gave him a blank look at first and then she smiled. “All right, I think I can do that.”

Meanwhile, Jean elbowed him in the side. “Why must you take my fun away from me?”

That time Muldani laughed while giving the two of them a considering look. “Huh, this is something new.” She came over to Jean and reached over to pat him on the shoulder, the gesture somewhat tentative. “I’m happy for you.”

Neil could tell that Jean was a bit uncomfortable at the moment, yet he nodded and didn’t brush her aside. “Kevin is and always will be a fool.”

Something akin to grief twisted Muldani’s expression before it once again returned to its harsh default. “I know.” Then it was her turn to shrug. “But what can one do?”

Neil opened his mouth to say what exactly she could do – dump the asshole for starters – but Jean actually wrapped his hand around Neil’s lower face and pulled him backwards while Muldani arched an eyebrow over their antics. “Ignore this devil,” Jean stated. “We need to get back to practice.”

“Right, I’m sure that’s what he was about to say.” Muldani gave them a sardonic look before she waved and walked away. “Keep on winning,” she told them.

“We will,” Jean said as they returned to where Marley was standing with Meg, an incredulous look on her face.

“That was Muldani,” she breathed out in a rush. “Oh my god, that was _Muldani_!”

“She’s been like that since you’ve left,” Meg said with a weary smile. “I’m about to smack her.”

“Oh, wow, you’ve got Meg resorting to violence, amazing.” Neil nodded to Meg. “Do you need a racquet?”

“What? _No_!” Meg laughed at that while Jean, well aware that Neil hadn’t been kidding, sighed and shook his head.

They went back to practicing drills after that, with Marley more focused than usual – Neil had the impression that she would be a force to reckon with that evening. Muldani even left Marley with one of her signed Sirens jerseys before she left, and despite the terrible mocking from Jean, Marley was more than happy that day.

“Look, I know I’m not some Exy prodigy or anything, so it’s important to hear that someone like Muldani thinks I can make Court.” She waved aside Neil’s attempt to speak. “Another _woman_ , okay? Because yeah, this is largely a guy’s sport at the moment. And despite Tetsuji being one of the best coaches out there, most of his players are men, too. So I’m happy right now.”

Neil chewed on his fish for a moment before he spoke. “What, you were letting a bunch of men hold you down before now?”

Meg laughed as Marley shoved a hand in Neil’s face for that remark. “Okay, I’m seeing Crusty’s ‘devil’ comments right now!”

“Then you truly are a blind fool if it’s taken you this long,” Jean sniffed in disdain, and glared when Marley flicked a piece of rice at him. “You’ll be spending the night sitting on the court for that.”

“Bring it on, baguette croustillante,” Marley taunted with a wide grin.

“Wonderful, it’s always so fun to spend the night having both my ego and my butt smacked down,” Meg groaned as she poked at her dinner.

That was a rather good summation of their last practice of the day, as Jean pulled out all of the stops when it came to putting the girls in their places. Even Neil had to dig down deep in an effort to get around the arrogant bastard and avoid being slammed onto his ass like Marley and Meg (especially Meg) were all the time, but it was a learning experience, he supposed. Marley grit her teeth and got back up again and again, refused to stay down long and earned a grudging nod of respect from the backliner by the time their two hours were up.

“At least you’ve already partially cleaned the court,” he told her as he handed his racquet to Neil.

“I really do hope you play for the French team so I can kick your ass when we all make Court,” Marley said through gritted teeth. “And can knock you off the podium as I take the gold.”

Jean snickered all the way into the men’s locker room.

“Uhm, I’m sure he’s terrified,” Meg said as she handed her partner a cleaning cloth. “He looked really scared to me. Right, Neil?”

Neil stared at her for a couple of seconds before he shook his head. “I was told it was best to lie when I knew I could sell it. That… yeah, I’m going to bed.” He didn’t say anything else, just turned around to put the racquets away and go wash off for the night.

At Friday morning’s practice, Neil and Jean were told by Nakamura that they were to pack an overnight bag – it seemed that they wouldn’t be returning to Edgar Allan with the rest of the team, but would be flying out of Birmingham, which was the closest major airport near Breckinridge, to New York City so they could spend the rest of the weekend on a photo shoot for Brine Racquets.

Neil schooled his expression so it didn’t show how unhappy he was to be taking part in a marketing campaign, let alone to put up with Riko all weekend long. Jean’s face was equally blank, and as soon they were dismissed so that they could go get ready for their flights, they hurried to the locker room.

Marley and Meg were waiting for them out in the hallway. “What was that about?”

“We have to go to New York tonight,” Neil explained as they walked together. “So watch yourself after Breckenridge, all right? Stick close to Sophie and Amy until we get back.” Susan would probably do what she could to rein in her partner, but Tollis, Loiseau and the others would have ‘fun’ during the weekend’s practice with Neil gone, he was willing to bet.

“We’ll be all right,” Marley promised, and gave him a curt nod when he glanced at an excited Meg. “Stick to our rooms and get some homework done, stuff like that.” She grinned as she reached out to give Neil a gentle punch to his left arm. “You’ll owe me, Shorty, since I’ll be working on that paper we’re doing for English.”

“If you have any hopes of passing, you’d best do it yourself,” Jean told her, while Meg tried to stand up for Neil – unfortunately the bastard was right.

“Take lots of pics if you can, I’ve always wanted to go to New York City,” Meg told them before the girls went off to their own room. Neil didn’t have the heart to explain that they’d be lucky to step a few feet outside of the hotel on their own, let alone see sights.

Neil went to the room and packed his bags, then spent a couple of minutes texting Minyard to let him know that he’d be out of town and if he didn’t return too late Sunday that he’d try calling him then. It seemed that the asshole was either in class or practice since there wasn’t a reply before Neil powered down the phone and hid it away again, and went with Jean to have something to eat before they had to leave.

It seemed as if the Ravens took up a good bit of the small plane flying to Philly, with Neil and Jean up in the ‘first class’ (the first few seats) along with Riko and Tetsuji, and Neil was aware of Nakamura hovering nearby in the airport when he and Jean hung out with Meg, Marley, Ivanova, McPherson and Lau to grab some fruit smoothies to drink before their next flight (and have pictures taken). The plane to Birmingham was larger, and the team stopped to eat there before heading off to Breckenridge; Riko was in a good mood because of all the attention he attracted, all the requests for photos and autographs.

They had plenty of time to go over the evening’s game and warm up out on the Jackal’s court, and were well-prepared to take on what had been one of the best teams in the district before the Ravens had switched that year. The Jackals were known for their rough tactics and strong offensive line – but not even the ‘Gorilla’ assigned to Neil slowed down the Ravens. He might have racked up a few more bruises dealing with the behemoth, but only until he tricked the backliner into running right into a wall toward the end of the first quarter.

The Jackals didn’t have anything on the Ravens when it came to dirty plays – Tetsuji had invented the sport, after all (with Kayleigh Day’s contribution) and knew the rulebook inside and out. He also knew how to bend those rules, to tie them into fancy knots to strangle the Ravens’ opponents while the referees looked on without a clue.

Neil, a liar by inheritance and inclination, excelled at those tricks. Marley, forced to deal with players bigger and older and more experienced than her, was getting rather good at them, too, and laughed as she tripped an upperclassmen dealer who outweighed her by over sixty pounds toward the end of the game when it was her and Neil out on the court again. By the time the buzzer rang, the score was 13-5 in the Ravens’ favor.

There was some booing as the Ravens took to the center court to shake the Jackals’ hands, and Neil swore that one or two of the Breckenridge players tried to intimidate him by looming over him and squeezing his hand a little too hard before Jean pulled him away. It was all petty tactics and too little, too late – they had lost and the Ravens continued on undefeated for the season.

The girls gave him and Jean a quick hug ‘goodbye’ since they would leave for the airport as soon as they washed off and changed, so Neil and Jean hurried since they already had an impatient Nakamura urging them on. Anxiety twisting in his stomach at the thought of going to New York City, where he had only traveled briefly with his mother when leaving or entering the country, Neil tried not to think of what all could go wrong that weekend.

Riko was all smiles as they traveled, was his public persona in his black and red Ravens’ coat and black hair slicked back.  Neil did his best not to flinch whenever he heard his name or number mentioned, and was more than willing to let Jean take the brunt of the attention as they traveled, exhausted and trying not to dwell on what would happen the next day.

It was late when they arrived at the Lowell Hotel (Neil refused to think of what had happened one of the last times they’d stayed at a hotel, too), so once Nakamura handed over their cards, Jean and Neil checked when they needed to be ready in the morning and made a hasty retreat while Riko talked to the assistant coach/minder (Neil was certain that Nakamura was some lower level yakuza member) about going out to a club.

They might be in a few blocks off of 5th Avenue, but all Neil cared about right then was being able to lock a damn door for once. As for the room itself… well, he’d never stayed in such an extravagant hotel room before, one with an impressive city view, expensive furniture and furnishings, a kitchenette and lavish bath including a soaking tub which he was sure he’d be fighting Jean for soon enough day.

There was a king bed and a twin bed in the bedroom, which meant they got to sleep in style that night. In fact, all Neil could see just then was the huge bed with its plush bedding, he was that tired, and after dumping his travel bag on the fancy bench in the corner of the room, he kicked off his sneakers while he shrugged out of his Ravens’ coat, intent on changing into his sleeping clothes as quickly as possible so he could crash for the night.

Except his phone – the one Tetsuji had given him, his ‘official’ phone - chose to ring just then. Puzzled by the sound for a moment, he almost chose to ignore it but went to fish it out of the bag in case something was wrong with the girls since they were about the only people other than Jean to bother him on the thing.

It wasn’t the girls; he didn’t recognize the number, and since he couldn’t chance that it wasn’t Tetsuji or someone else from the coaching staff checking up on him, that or one of his father’s people, he answered it.

“Hello?” While he spoke, Jean finished investigating the suite (he’d been in the kitchen area last Neil had seen) to enter the bedroom with a worried frown on his face.

“How do you like the suite?”

Neil’s back stiffened at the sound of Ichirou Moriyama’s voice, smooth and a bit curious. “Ah, it’s very… well, it’s very generous, my lord,” he managed to say without stuttering too much. “More than I’m used to, to be honest. Do we have you to thank for it?” Please oh please, _no._

“You’ve been putting a lot of effort into the season so far, I believed a reward was deserved,” Ichirou said while Neil closed his eyes. “Something to help you rest up for your big day tomorrow.”

Neil would have been fine at a motel, as long as it was clean and relatively quiet. He would be fine as long as Riko left him the hell alone, but perhaps Riko would think that the location was all about _him_. “ _Thank you_ ,” he managed to say with what he hoped was an appropriate amount of gratitude when he didn’t really understand why the man had done it in the first place. When he could think of other things he’d rather have Ichirou do for him instead. “Ah…”

“Yes?”

Mindful of the fact that Tetsuji monitored their phones, Neil took a chance since he wasn’t certain when he’d see the Moriyama heir again. “I was just… well, I’m missing someone, I guess. Being in a big city like New York reminds me of them a little since they’re very… urbane. It’s such a shame, losing touch with him.” He wasn’t sure if Tetsuji had bugged the phone itself or just tracked the call, and didn’t want to take too many chances – especially when Ichirou had told him not to mention his uncle.

Ichirou was quiet for a moment before he gave a slight chuckle. “I’m sure he’d be very happy to know you miss him. Though I believe you’ll soon be too busy to do anything about it. Get some sleep, Nathaniel, and do your best tomorrow. I will see you soon.” He hung up before Neil could say anything else.

“That was… I still don’t know what that was,” Neil admitted before he returned his phone into his bag before he fetched out his travel kit so he could brush his teeth before bed. While he did that, Jean shook his head and left the room, only to return with two glasses filled with what turned out to be an expensive cognac.

“ _Drink this_.”

“But I-“

“ ** _Drink_** ,” Jean insisted, and glared at Neil until he obeyed, sputtering all the time as he choked down the alcohol; it was only slightly better than bourbon. Once Jean finished his large glass of alcohol, he shuddered a little and gave Neil a bleary look. “ _Things like this_ ,” he motioned with the hand holding the empty glass, “ _don’t usually happen to us. Being called up to the East Tower does not happen to one of **us** so much.”_

 _“But… my father,”_ Neil tried to argue as the cognac burned in his stomach. “ _Ichirou is only interested in me because of my father.”_

Jean shook his head again. “ _No, I don’t think so, which is what worries me so much. Why did you talk to him about missing someone?”_

 _“Because I need to get in touch with my uncle,”_ Neil admitted. “ _I want him to look into some things about Gordon.”_ The unease transitioned to fury as he thought about the Fox striker. “ _There’s not much I can do while stuck at Edgar Allan, but he can look into making that bastard’s life one of misery for me.”_ Could fuck up Gordon’s life in return for fucking up Neil’s.

“ _Wonderful, so you ask Ichirou a favor.”_ Jean pinched the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache. “ _The man who seems to have an odd obsession with you. This is going to end **so well**.”_

 _“_ Uhm….” Neil frowned at that as he picked up his travel kit again. “Really?” That didn’t make any sense – there was nothing to ‘obsess’ about when it came to him.

“Yes!” Jean went stomping out of the room, possibly for some more cognac, so Neil decided it would probably be a very good idea to brush his teeth (again) and hope to pass out as quickly as possible.

Jean joined him in bed a few minutes later with the scent of alcohol on his breath, and despite that Neil took comfort in his partner’s arm draped over his chest, in the feel of Jean’s firm chest against his back in a foreign, too soft bed – especially when he didn’t have his knife. At least he had someone he trusted next to him, someone to help watch over him and fight off any surprises, so he was able to close his eyes and get some rest.

They woke up early enough to enjoy a soak each in the large tub, Jean humming in-between sips of the coffee which Neil brought to him once they figured out the fancy machine in the kitchenette, while Neil sat out on the balcony with his tea and watched the traffic below. After that and a light breakfast in the suite, they dressed in black jeans and black dress shirts, along with their sneakers and Ravens jackets, and went down to the lobby to wait for Riko and Nakamura.

Their captain was a bit worse for wear from his night out, eyes covered by dark sunglasses and unwilling to say much, while Nakamura gave them an approving nod for their appearance; Neil was certain that he was aware of their location all night long, and not just because of the tracking on their phones. A rented limo arrived to take them to wherever they were to go for the marketing campaign, which prompted a flood of anxiety inside of Neil.

Riko seemed to wake up a bit once inside of the vehicle, especially when his phone rang; he answered it with an eager expression and spoke in Japanese to the person on the other end. Neil caught Minyard’s name and something about a (background?) check, a foster family and a brother, and noticed how Jean became tense on the seat behind him. He also noticed how Riko’s smile became a bit too cruel while he listened to something and ordered the person to find the brother.

That… didn’t seem good. As much as Minyard pissed off Neil with the whole phone call thing, with what had happened in Millport and the asshole threatening Jean… well, Neil knew what it felt like to be on the other end of Riko’s need to hurt, to break down and destroy. Yes, Neil had issues with Minyard, but he wasn’t sure if they were enough to have Riko unleashed on the goalie, especially if he was what was keeping Day out of the Nest (now _Gordon_? Oh, Gordon was another thing entirely).

Riko must have noticed Neil’s attention because he smiled, the expression still a little too sharp and vicious. “Yes?”

Neil shrugged, the motion a bit too nonchalant but not too much. “Just heard mention of a certain asshole and was a little curious.” He held up his right arm, the bruises faint but not entirely gone from the previous Friday, and shrugged again. “Would make my day to know that he walked in front of a bus or something.” He left it at that, knowing better than to push with Riko but also that it would seem odd if he didn’t say anything, considering his past with the goalie and how he was supposed to still be blaming Minyard for being at Edgar Allan.

“No, at least not yet. But perhaps soon.” Anger twisted Riko’s features. “He’s proving to be a rather stubborn irritant propping Kevin up, but not much longer.”

That really didn’t sound good, but there wasn’t much Neil could do about it then; he’d talk to Jean later to see what he missed out of the conversation and then figure out what to do. As for right then, they went to a photography studio deeper in the upper East End where Leah and the one younger guy from before (Jordan) was waiting for them.

As if a flip had been switched on, Riko was all bright smiles for the two, while Neil had to do his best not to cringe or flinch when he was passed over to a handful of people who did things with his hair and face, let alone practically felt him up to figure out his wardrobe for the day (including a modified version of their Ravens uniform that was rather form fitting). Someone, either Tetsuji or Ichirou, must have stipulated that he and Jean not wear anything too revealing (anything that didn’t cover their scars).

By that point Neil’s nerves were frayed and he wanted to walk out of the studio and disappear, but Jean made sure to stick close to him so he remembered why that wasn’t an option any longer. Riko went off for his own pictures while Neil and Jean were posed together with a variety of racquets in increasingly ridiculous poses.

 _“Why is each day with you a new version of hell?”_ Jean inquired as they were posed crossing their shiny new racquets high in the air for some reason with their faces too close together. “ _What have I done to deserve **you**_?”

“ _Bad karma for thinking that beheading people was fun daily entertainment, perhaps? That and trying to convince people that snails is an acceptable form of food_ ,” Neil offered.

“ _Oasis and black pudding_ ,” Jean shot back as the photographer, a twitchy young man who reeked of cigarette smoke, yelled at them to inch closer together.

It was a very long, exhausting day even if it was only several hours and not spent out on a court, so Neil was looking forward to going back to the hotel where they would order more room service and play rock, paper, scissors to determine who got to soak in the tub first since they didn’t have any coins to flip when Leah smiled at them. “That was great! We’re going to have fun figuring out which pictures to use, you guys did such a great job. So to say ‘thanks’, the first couple of rounds are on me!”

“Uhm.” Neil panicked at the thought of going out with people he didn’t know, at being at some sort of club or bar filled with strangers, _packed_ with strangers. Perhaps a few months ago he would have seen it as an opportunity to escape, to slip free and run, but there was Jean and the girls, and he didn’t have anything on him, no money at all and only a bugged phone so he couldn’t go far unless he managed to steal a few good wallets.

He didn’t think he could go far at all, not after a couple of months of his face being everywhere as a Raven, certainly not with the damn tattoo on his cheek.

Considering Jean’s too-blank expression, his friend didn’t care for the thought of a party, either, which made Neil’s skin crawl at what might happen at the thing. Fortunately Riko smiled and shook his head. “Neil’s still underage, I’m afraid, and Jean’s under strict orders to keep him company.” He managed a sympathetic look as he glanced at them, which Neil knew was entirely fake. “I’m afraid my uncle is quite the taskmaster, especially with the freshmen.”

Leah and Jordan seemed upset with that, until Leah smiled at Riko. “But you can still come, right?”

“I would be more than honored to,” Riko said with a slight bow of his head.

Having a feeling that they’d been given a reprieve more for the sake of Riko’s ego than anything else, Neil managed to spit out a ‘thanks, it was a lot of fun’ or something along those lines before a car (not the limo from before) took him and Jean back to the hotel where they were more than content to spend the night. They did hit the gift shop in the lobby for some gifts to take back to the girls and a few others (Neil figured if this was Ichirou trying to do… something… he might as well… okay, he was _still_ confused about the whole thing, but if it was going to bite him on the ass, dammit then he’d make it somewhat worth it) before they went up to their room, where Neil was so relieved to once more lock out the world.

Until he found the gift basket in the kitchenette.

“Merde,” Jean muttered as Neil skittered out of the room, right palm itching with the need to have his knife in it, with _some_ sort of weapon as he did a quick check of the suite to make sure that no one else was in it, that nothing had been tampered with and that he and Jean were safe. It took him about ten minutes, and by that point Jean had already had two glasses of cognac (he yelled at the fool for drinking it in case it was tampered, but Jean said at least he’d die from some decent French cognac and not a devil tormenting him).

Neil approached the basket, which appeared to be filled with a selection of fine teas and some biscuits he hadn’t had since leaving Europe, as well as a selection of fresh fruit. There was a note attached to the front, which he tugged free after only a moment’s hesitation and unfolded.

There was an unfamiliar number, along with a message. ‘ _Congratulations on what will be a successful campaign. We’ll discuss your debt when we next meet_.’

Jean came up to Neil and read the note over his shoulder. “ _I am not drunk enough for this,”_ he declared before retreating back to where the bar was in the main room.

He might have something there.

Yet all Neil did was memorize the number before destroying the note while munching on a ripe pear, then cajole a tipsy Jean into ordering something from room service. He even let the bastard have first dibs on the tub to help sober up while he brewed some tea, and spent some time out on the balcony enjoying the small pint of strawberries with a cup while waiting for their late dinner to arrive.

Jean still seemed a little inebriated when he sat down at the table to eat his chicken dish, but his expression was thoughtful and not bleak when he looked at Neil. “What?” Neil asked as he twirled his pasta around his fork.

“ _This isn’t normal_.”

“ _You’ve said that,_ ” Neil reminded his partner, more than willing to forget about Ichirou for a while.

“ _This doesn’t seem like any Moriyama that I know_.” Jean waved his right hand around the suite.

“ _What, because he’s not beating us up and treating us like shit_?” Neil paused in eating to wait for an answer, and sighed when Jean didn’t say anything. “ _So what do you think is going on_?”

“ _I **think** it might be best for you to remain clueless about that_,” Jean said before cutting into his herbed chicken or whatever the hell he’d ordered. “ _It makes him work harder_.”

Neil was about to grab some cognac himself. “I can’t believe I missed a chance to drown you in the tub.”

Jean smiled at that and reached out to tap the flat of his knife against Neil’s half-empty cup of tea. “You British and your tea, you think the world comes to a halt during your little breaks.”

“No, we think the world goes on because of our little tea breaks, get it right,” Neil scoffed. “Whereas you weak French break down if you don’t get your two hour lunches and even longer dinners – anything to avoid a real work day.”

“ _Go soak your head in hot water, I’m done dealing with you for the day_ ,” Jean sniffed as he waved his fork in the air.

Taking that to mean that he’d scored a direct hit for once, Neil grinned as he’d left his meal unfinished (he’d had more than enough fruit to make him feel full anyway) and went to enjoy a nice long soak in a tub where he could stretch out in with a rare bit of privacy. Jean came in after a while with a new cup of tea and some of the butter biscuits for him, which made it an almost perfect night (except for the fact that Ichirou had arranged it all and they had to return to Edgar Allan in the morning and… and Neil didn’t want to think about anything else then).

Still, he enjoyed the rest of the fruit in the morning and packed the remains of the basket in his duffel bag, along with part of the souvenirs he’d gotten for the girls.

It was an early flight back to Charleston, one where Riko hid behind his sunglasses again and didn't say a word as they left the hotel or once on the plane or even on the drive back to campus. Neil and Jean were more than content to leave him alone, mindful about setting him off and uncertain about their reprieve coming to an end.

They only had a few minutes to drop their bags off in their room and get ready to join the other Ravens out on the court, so Neil sent off a quick text to push back his call with Minyard a couple of hours. Once in gear and with their racquets in hand, they did a quick warm-up and exchanged smiles with Marley and Meg before Tetsuji had them join a scrimmage, back into the thick of things again. Neil grinned at the rush of adrenalin, at the feel of his muscles flexing and sweat dripping down his back as he ran after the ball, as he did his best to twist about to catch the throws from Jean and Hebig and Sophie and Susan, to avoid Bautista and Federov and Tollis.

It was moments like that when he felt alive, and if Riko was a bit sluggish out on the court, a bit slower than normal and his aim a little off, Neil put extra effort into everything to cover for his captain, to ensure that his 'team' won.

Tetsuji noticed anyway, as the 'Master' did with everything, with their practices and workouts and games, the expressionless taskmaster who watched over them with dark eyes constantly roving for any imperfections and mistakes. He called his nephew over to him and then unleashed a torrent of Japanese which rounded Riko's shoulders while the rest of the Ravens were quick to busy themselves with drills and stretches and laps.

Neil braced himself to be the target of Riko's temper when it was over, but as soon as Tetsuji was finished, Riko clenched his hands while he looked around, and his attention landed on Ross and Mills working on their drills - on Ross still struggling to learn one of the complicated passes.

Riko stomped over to the rookie goalie, his face mottled red with rage and shame, which made Neil and Jean close ranks around the girls - no, even Marley made an effort to shield Meg from what was to come. They tugged Meg farther away as Jean took to explaining an embellishment on the eighth drill which he wanted Meg to learn, and all the while Riko screamed at Ross while there was the sound of pained cries and something (someone) being repeatedly hit.

Meg looked ready to cry as she struggled to focus on the lesson Jean was teaching her, on what Neil and Marely were showing her, and the rest of the Ravens were loud as if in an effort to drown out the sound from the corner of the court. It was with great relief to all of them when Tetsuji called an end to practice for the day – except Riko was still there with Mills and a huddled Ross.

Neil tugged on Meg’s arm to distract her. “Come to our room when you’re done. Both of you,” he told them, his voice hoarse as he pushed all thoughts of the other two freshmen out of his mind; he couldn’t save everyone, dammit.

“Okay,” Meg told him, her eyes sparkling with tears.

No one wasted any time in the locker room or showers, not when it was clear that Riko was in such a mood, washing off with the bare minimum of effort and throwing clothes on soaking wet skin. Neil and Jean all but ran to their room, and had barely gotten there when the girls knocked on their room.

Despite the awful tension, Meg laughed at the gold earrings and necklace that Jean had picked out for her, the delicate flowers with sparkling crystal centers, and promised to give the scarves that Jean had also chosen for Sophie, Amy and Susan (Neil had no idea what to buy people – he’d never bought anyone a gift before). The only thing Neil had felt confident in picking out was the black and red cashmere sweater for Marley, and that was… well, he figured she’d appreciate something showing off the fact that she was a Raven to everyone when she struggled so hard. Judging from the wide grin on her face when she folded back the tissue paper and the approval on Meg’s, he’d guessed right, and Marley even shrugged off her sweatshirt to pull the sweater on over her black t-shirt right then and there.

“It’s not a fancy racquet but it’ll do, Shorty,” Marley told him with a pleased smile as they got up to leave. “Get some more contracts, I can do with being spoiled like this.”

“We can do with being away from ingrates such as you more often,” Jean sniffed as he waved them away. “Go, ma puce.”

Marley laughed as Meg thanked them again, their good mood restored for the time being.

Neil waited a few minutes to make sure that they would be left alone before he retrieved his phone, and after entering his uncle’s number into it called Minyard, his own good mood souring a little.

“It’s about time, dammit,” Minyard said in that flat manner of his.

The corners of Neil’s lips twitched until he found a mockery of a smile on his face. “Oh, so sorry, some of us have better things to do than be a failure of existence than an asshole like you, all brooding in black and the Doc Martins as if they’ll make you _tall_ of all things, and the _cigarettes_? Did you like, look up some checklist for ‘bad-ass wannabe’ then decide that would be your life calling? Only to have your innate laziness stop you halfway through the list?” Beside him on the bed, Jean actually cracked a smile.

There was silence on the line for a couple of seconds, only to be broken by the slow exhale of what probably was some smoke. “So amusing.”

“See, that’s what I mean. You’re probably glaring and blowing out smoke rings and about to play with one of your knives. So boring,” Neil sighed. “It’s a…,” he frowned at Jean as he mentally fumbled on something, too many words in different languages in his head. “ _What’s the word people use for pretentious assholes who dress all in black and mope around all day_?”

Jean frowned back and tugged on his bangs for a moment. “ _Eh? **Oh**! Goth, I believe_.”

Neil smiled at his partner and leaned against Jean’s bent legs. “Are you trying to be goth?”

Minyard was quiet for a couple of seconds before _he_ sighed. “You are a fucking idiot.”

“A ‘fucking idiot’ you choose to speak to once a week,” Neil took great delight to point out while Jean muttered insults about Minyard in return; he would only be too happy about Minyard deciding it was too much effort to put up with him and call off the whole ‘arrangement’.

“Oh no, you’re not getting out of this that easily, I put up with idiots all the time,” Minyard stated as if he’d read Neil’s thoughts. “Now what was going on this weekend? You off to an idiot convention?”

“Don’t talk to him like that,” Jean said, his voice rough with anger as he leaned closer to the phone. “You ignorant bastard.”

Neil shook his head at his friend to show that he wasn’t bothered by Minyard’s petty insults. “ _You_ have no right to demand an explanation, but it’ll be common knowledge soon enough. We were in New York for a media campaign and just returned today.” He was quiet while Minyard grunted. “I thought I was the one owed a truth today.”

“That wasn’t me asking for a truth, just an explanation,” Minyard said, proving that while he might be a lazy rude asshole, he wasn’t stupid. “What do you want to know? I’m under the impression that you don’t have a lot of time for these fun little chats of ours.”

Neil smiled at that even though Minyard couldn’t see the expression. “No, I don’t, especially when I’m wasting it on an asshole like you. So here’s what I want to know – according to what I’ve been told about you, after that little fight you had a couple of years ago, you’re supposed to be meds to keep you all nice and docile, a good little boy and everything.” His tone was sarcastic as he spoke, as he was familiar with drugs after dealing with his father’s people when he was younger – the people who should have been on them, the people who turned to drugs for various reasons and so forth. Nathan Wesninski was active in a lot of unsavory business, pretty much anything that would bring in money and cause pain in some way, and Neil – _Nathaniel_ – had seen much of it before Mary had taken him away. “Yet there was something different about you last Friday.”

Minyard was quiet again save for the harsh inhale of breath. “So what exactly are you asking?”

Jean looked intently at Neil as he smiled. “Are you off the meds when you play?” Perhaps it wasn’t the most serious question Neil could pick – he could ask why Minyard was protecting Day – but Neil had the feeling that Minyard would dance around the answer if he asked anything in that regard right away. No, best to establish the limits of their truth, and this might come in handy the next time the Ravens played against the Foxes even if it wasn’t until next season.

The silence lingered a little longer. “Not bad, little birdy. Yes, I skip the drugs when I play.” There was another pause. “You want to know why?”

“Not really.” He’d allow Minyard that bit of privacy; all that mattered to him was knowing that Minyard was off of them, something he was certain that Minyard’s parole officer or whatever probably wouldn’t care for, but the asshole had shared with him all the same. “I may be the tiniest bit impressed, you managing a full game like that. The tiniest bit.”

“ _He’s still a fucking bastard_ ,” Jean muttered, his expression one of pure disgruntlement.

Neil is surprised when a brief laugh is startled out of him by that comment. “ _Of course, I wouldn’t think otherwise_.”

“Care to share with the rest of the class?” Minyard asked while Neil smiled at his friend.

“Just that the general consensus is that you’re still a bastard, and that our time’s up for the week. Have fun being all goth-y.”

“I am not a go-“ Neil hummed as he hung up on Minyard then checked the time on his phone.

“Let’s see if my uncle’s available.”

“ _Some devils love to push their luck, it seems_ ,” Jean said as he rubbed at his face.

Well, it wasn’t like they had much down-time, did they? Neil glanced at the closed door before he pulled up the new number in his phone and grew nervous at it continued to ring. “Who the hell is this?” His uncle asked when the call was finally answered, his deep voice rough with suspicion.

“Hi, Uncle Stuart.”

“Nathaniel? How the hell did you get this number?”

“I, ah, asked Ichirou for it,” Neil admitted as he toyed with the hem of his sweatshirt.

“And of _course_ he gave it to you.” Stuart sounded pained for some reason. “Tell me that- that’s a burner phone, right? You’re still at the Nest?”

“Of course it is.” Neil was a bit offended at the question. “How else would I be calling you?”

“Just checking.” Stuart sighed and then huffed, the sound amused. “You take after Mary so much, you know? This is something she’d do.”

Neil couldn’t respond to that, not with the pain in his chest just then, and started when Jean reached over to give a gentle touch to his hair. As he blinked at his friend, Stuart continued. “Anyway, it’s good that I have a way to talk to you, kiddo. Things are proceeding with the main branch, but it’ll probably be a few more weeks until I’m back at Edgar Allan, maybe not until after the new year which is around when the bastard’s supposed to be out of prison.” Hate made Stuart’s deep voice even rougher.

“Okay.” Neil fought not to shiver at the thought of his father being a free man, of potentially coming to Edgar Allan to see him.

“How are you doing? Is everything all right?” Now Neil’s uncle sounded worried.

“Uhm, I’m fine.” For the most part that was the truth. “I just wanted a way to reach out to you.”

“All right.” Stuart was quiet again for several uncomfortable seconds. “Look, there’s not much I can do right now, but maybe I can send something along through Ichirou. Do you need anything?”

“Not really.” Then Neil thought about his previous phone call. “Well, there is something I was hoping to ask you about at some point,” he admitted. “Someone I want you to look into, if at all possible.”

“Oh?” Now Stuart sounded interested. “This a clean-up or take-down?” Of course Neil wouldn’t be calling about an old friend or anything.

“Neither, it’s a long-haul shake, extra rough,” Neil explained while Jean gazed at him in confusion for using ‘business’ terms, even if it was a burner phone. “The chav’s Seth Gordon, Palmetto State Foxes’ striker.”

Stuart grunted to show that he’d taken all that in. “Any particular reason why?” Which wasn’t the same as a ‘no’.

“Because he’s why I’m here, you could say.” The bitter smile crept back on Neil’s lips as he thought about how pleased Gordon had been in the lounge at Palmetto State. “He put up the forum post about Day trying to recruit me, which let the Moriyamas know I was out in Arizona.”

There was another grunt, lower and rougher than before. “I’m surprised you don’t want a clean-up, then.”

“That’s too easy an out for him,” Neil explained. “I want him to barely finish out the season with the Foxes and then right when he thinks he’s finally made it, for everything to go completely pear-shaped on him. For him to realize that he’s never going to crawl out of the gutter.”

“Just like Mary, kiddo,” Stuart said, respect evident in his gruff voice. “All right, I’ll get the guys working on it soon.”

“Thank you.”

“Anything, kiddo.” Stuart then spent a couple of minutes letting him know what was going on with the rest of the family, about Uncle Will, Aunt Miriam and his cousins whom he could barely remember, before telling him to take care.

As soon as the call ended, Neil got up from the bed to hide the phone away, and found Jean staring at him with concern when he turned around. “Yes?”

“ _You were serious about making Gordon suffer_.”

Neil shrugged as he returned to his spot on the bed. “ _You don’t think he deserves having his life ruined for what he did to me_?”

Jean was quiet before he reached out to tug on a lock of Neil’s hair. “ _You truly are a devil_.”

“ _That’s not an answer_ ,” Neil pointed out; for some reason Jean’s opinion mattered just then.

“ _I’m not sure he would care if he found out what happens here, so I’m not going to argue with you_ ,” Jean said with a solemn expression. “ _But I hope you don’t go about asking such favors from your uncle for everyone who upsets you_.”

“ _The list would be too long_.” Neil closed his eyes as he stretched out on the bed. “ _And yours would be at the top of it for being so very French_.” He smiled as his hair was tugged on again. “Bastard.”

“ _British oaf_.” Jean settled behind him for a minute or so, until he nudged Neil in the side and reminded him about his homework.

Ross was gone from Edgar Allan by the end of the week, supposedly because of his grades falling past the point which each Raven had to maintain and him deciding to withdraw from the university. Supposedly. All Neil knew was that Mills was even more quiet than usual and Tetsuji’s gaze heavy on any Raven who spoke during the practice session that day, so he focused on doing his best and not drawing either of the Moriyama’s wrath down on him, Jean or the girls.

At least Riko seemed to be distracted by something, busy on the phone when not practicing or studying or going off on Exy-related things. Which with the season well under way and most of the fall semester over, meant that Neil was in a constant state of exhaustion (and relying heavily on Jean and Marley to keep his grades up) – as much as he detested Riko, he had to give the bastard credit for exceling not only at being a Raven but with his Court and pro duties as well. Riko could be someone to look up to, _if_ he wasn’t a sadistic, mentally unstable prick who refused to get any help and took his issues out on everyone else.

It was when they were riding back from the game at Columbia (another travesty where they all but wiped out the other team on the court) that Neil caught Riko talking to someone on the phone in Japanese while he was chatting in Russian with Susan. Something about arranging a ‘surprise’ for Minyard at a home during the upcoming holiday. Neil schooled his expression during the conversation, well aware that if Riko sounded _that_ happy then whatever he was planning wasn’t good for Minyard.

It was clear that as long as Day had Minyard to protect him, to give him some sense of security as well as provide the Foxes with at least one other quality player on their team that he would continue to defy Riko and Tetsuji for at least a little longer. The Foxes were doing better this season than they’d ever done before – it wasn’t anywhere enough to get them to the finals, but they would probably advance to at least the death matches this year, would show improvement over last year’s championship season. Was it enough for Day to stick it out for two more years? Maybe, maybe not, but it seemed that Riko didn’t want to wait that long.  He didn’t even want to wait the rest of this year.

Minyard wasn’t behind the forum post, but he still had caused Neil some grief and pain. Yet as someone who dealt with Riko on a daily basis…. Neil gave Susan a smile as he went back to the last seat where Jean was mocking something Marley had said and sat down to think about what he should do. When he didn’t say anything to his friends, Jean gave him a worried look but left him alone.

Neil leaned against his partner as he debated his options, and smiled when Jean’s coat was draped over him. “ _Don’t think too hard and create sparks, devil. We’re by the gas tank, after all_ ,” Jean chided.

Neil gave his partner a light smack on the side. “Shut up.” Reminded that he wasn’t alone in this, Neil closed his eyes to get some sleep, determined to ask for Jean’s help once they were back at the Nest and had a private moment or two to talk.

*******

Andrew settled on the rooftop of Fox Tower on his birthday with a cup of sweetened coffee near his left knee and a lit cigarette between his fingers as he waited for the weekly phone call; it was becoming a ritual of sorts, him sitting either there with his drink and caffeine or on the back porch at the house while waiting for Josten to call him while the others were still sleeping off the night before, depending on if they’d stayed on campus or gone back to Columbia.

Right on time, the phone in his hand rang. "Finally."

"I'm not late," Josten scoffed while there was the familiar muttering of French in the background. "I think someone likes to bitch for the sake of bitching."

"Yes, Moreau does strike me as a dramatic asshole like that," Andrew commented, his fingers twitching slightly at Josten's amused huff. "It must be so fun, being stuck with him all day long."

"Hmm, better a French drama queen than Day, no?" There was the rare sound of Josten's laughter as Moreau complained yet again, and something in Andrew's chest did an odd thing where it tried to seize up and expand at the same time. "Tell me it's easy living with him, go ahead."

"Once he's unconscious? Not so bad," Andrew admitted before sipping his coffee.

"Which is how often?" Josten hummed while Andrew deliberately slurped his coffee instead of answering. "You know, there's a long list of people who would be more than willing to help out with that 'conscious' thing, just let me spread the word. Something about being told they're utterly incompetent at a sport they love and all."

Ah yes, the infamous Kevin Day diplomatic skills at work - one had to wonder how Kevin managed to convince the people interviewing him that he had an iota of charm when he went about antagonizing everyone else, especially fellow Exy players. "And where's your name on that list?"

"Hmm, I'm sure there's one or two people in front of me," Josten said in a too-sweet voice which Andrew knew better than to trust.

" _Just_ one or two."

"Maybe," Josten drawled, while Moreau scoffed in the background.

In the past couple of weeks Josten had eased up a little (a _little_ ) on the insults with Andrew, but it was still clear that the not-rabbit continued to loathe Kevin's entire being; Andrew was slowly piecing together a mental image of the mercurial young man on the other end of the phone, and it was one where Neil Josten was very good at holding grudges when he felt that he'd been wronged - even more so when he felt that people he cared about had been wronged.

He'd been furious with Andrew at the belief that Andrew was at fault over the whole forum mess, but it was _nothing_ compared to how he felt about Kevin Day walking out on Jean Moreau.

"Leave me to worry about Day," he said after a moment's pause. "How are things at Edgar Allan? Lose any more birdies this week?"

All traces of amusement faded from Josten's voice at the question. "No, all present Ravens are accounted for at the moment. We're still busy kicking the ass of every team in this pathetic division, you know how it goes." He paused for a moment and then clicked his tongue. "Oh, that's _right_ , you don't, you're usually the ones getting your asses _kicked_."

"This is normally where one of my stupid teammates would go on a rant about our winning season, but I don't give a shit," Andrew remarked as he exhaled a lungful of smoke. "Other than we'll be able to meet you in the semi-finals, where you and the poetic Patel won't be able to use your little tricks on me again."

There was more laughter, that time with Moreau joining in. "Oh how _amusing_ , did they change your meds or something? This false sense of superiority is such fun," Josten exclaimed. "What next, you going to tell me your theory of how to solve world hunger?"

"Don't try to change the topic," Andrew said before he finished off his coffee; he noticed how Josten attempted to do that whenever he brought up things at the Nest. Hmm, someone didn't quite trust him just yet, but they were working on that. After all, how many minutes had just passed without him being called an asshole, right? Build a proper foundation, Bee would say, whereas Andrew thought of it more as taming a feral cat. Josten reminded him of a creature half-starved and beaten down by too many people, left scarred physically and mentally by the abuse until he didn’t trust anyone other than Moreau. Andrew needed patience to get past Josten’s claws before he’d have the answers he wanted.

He’d at least been able to trade a truth (Josten figuring that he played without being on meds) to confirm that the reluctant Raven wasn’t after Kevin returning to Edgar Allan and so wasn’t working with Riko in that regard. While Andrew still wasn’t certain how far he could trust Josten and Moreau when they had to answer to the Moriyamas, he knew that they weren’t willingly conspiring against Kevin.

“What’s Riko up to, if he’s not breaking any other freshmen?” Andrew asked as he flicked the ash on his cigarette into the air.

Josten was quiet for a moment before he hummed a little. “Is that your question for your turn?”

A feral kitty and a clever one at that. “No, it’s me making polite conversation,” Andrew said with a rare hint of impatience in his voice.

“Oh Minyard, I think I might have to file a complaint against that juvenile detention center out in California, it’s clear that their etiquette classes leave something to be desired.” Josten made a tsk’ing sound as the too-sharp amusement was back in his voice; Andrew could easily picture him just then, those pale blue eyes bright with the emotion, that razor thin smile on his animated face and auburn hair tumbling down onto his forehead. “Your polite conversation _suck_ s.”

For a moment Andrew had an insane impulse to say that it wasn’t _conversation_ that he wanted to ‘suck’, but he didn’t want the phone call to end just then. “Consider me crushed by your critique. If you’re going to continue to deflect, I _will_ ask for my truth, then.”

“Go ahead, then.” Once again, Josten was all seriousness, no longer amused since he knew Andrew could ask almost anything and him refusing to answer would be a tell in its own way.

“What’s going on with Gordon, hmm?” Andrew drew on the last of his cigarette before he flicked the butt out into air to fall onto the courtyard in front of the Tower, held the smoke in his lungs for a couple of seconds while Josten remained quiet and then let it out. “It’s rather interesting, his string of bad luck the last couple of weeks – how his wallet and phones keep getting stolen, the pictures appearing online of him hooking up with some girl when he went out to a bar one night with friends and got trashed,” which Gordon didn’t remember at all, “someone even stealing his backpack a couple of times and checking out a bunch of library books in his name.”

“Gee, that really does seem like a bunch of rotten luck,” Josten said in a suddenly young-sounding voice; Andrew imagined if he was in front of him, the kid would be all big blue eyes and projected innocence. “Bad karma, perhaps?”

“I wonder for what?” Andrew drawled. “I want to know if you’re trying to get him kicked off the team.” He didn’t give a shit about Gordon and thought the homophobic asshole deserved it all, to be honest – Reynolds breaking things off with him over the pictures, the headaches and the lost money and having to spend all his spare time redoing the assignments if he wanted to keep his barely passing grades. But Kevin was having fits over the prospect of them losing a semi-decent striker and breaking their winning streak.

“No,” Josten answered without any hesitation. “If I wanted that he’d already be gone, he’d have OD’ed or ended up with a knife in his liver from a bar fight, something no one would give much thought about considering his lifestyle.” He spoke without remorse or inflection, spoke as if he’d already thought about what he’d do to Gordon in great detail. “But all of that? It’s too quick, it gives him an out too easily. I’m going to take everything away from him – his chance with someone who cares about him, a career in a sport he loves, any future he might have had. So you’ll have him for the season, don’t worry, but once he graduates he’ll be _nothing_.”

Andrew thought about that, thought about the pleasure Gordon took in insulting Nicky whenever possible, thought about how Gordon was still amused by what he’d done to Josten and nodded once. “Just as long as we have him for the season. Kevin will be unbearable if we don’t.” Kevin would probably lose the small bit of spine he’d been clinging to which kept him at Palmetto State if something happened to Gordon, if it looked as if the Foxes couldn’t even make it to the start of the championship season.

“Oh, well, we can’t have _that_ ,” Josten said, his voice thick with sarcasm.

 “So good of you to come to that understanding,” Andrew told him, his voice as flat as possible.

There was a bit of swearing in French in response to that, which reminded Andrew that he wanted to grab a French to English dictionary the next time he was in the bookstore. Mindful of how Josten couldn’t stay on for long and growing hungry, Andrew picked up his mug. “Well, if you’re not in a conversational mood, then we’ll try again-“

“Minyard.”

“Josten.” Andrew frowned at how quiet Josten had sounded right then. “What is it?”

There was muttered French for several seconds, what sounded to be a private argument between Josten and Moreau. “I have things to do today,” Andrew said in an attempt to hurry things along.

“Look… don’t go home, all right?” Josten said after a moment’s pause.

What did that mean? “That’s a bit difficult since I’m on campus right now, unless you mean back in Columbia and I’m not sticking around this shitty place forever.”

Josten breathed something out in what sounded to be a mix of French and Japanese. “No, I mean-“ there was another brief discussion between him and Moreau, “-ah, don’t go to your family’s house?”

Andrew twisted around and stood up upon hearing that, upon what he could only assume meant Luther’s house even if he didn’t consider the bastard ‘family’. “What do you mean? What do you know?”

“It’s not your turn,” Josten said, his voice quiet once again.

“Dammit, I’m not in the mood for this,” Andrew argued as his hand tightened on the phone.

“And I can’t tell you any more than that,” Josten shot back. “Just… don’t go, it’s a trap.” Then he hung up.

About to call the aggravating bastard back to yell at him and demand a better explanation, Andrew stopped when he realized that Josten would have just turned off his phone to avoid being bothered or worse, risk someone hearing his phone ring. No, he’d have to wait at least a day or two and try sending a text, though most likely he wouldn’t get any real answer until the next week.

Or he’d get some sort of clue later that day when sitting on the couch reading a book while Nicky and Aaron played some stupid video game and Kevin watched an Exy game on his computer; Nicky’s phone rang and he answered it without looking, only to freak out and start speaking in Spanish. His expression was incredulous at first, and then turned oddly hopeful.

Andrew wasn’t fluent in Spanish, but he’d picked up a few words over the years, such as ‘mother’. It was also easy to recognize his and Aaron’s names being mentioned, which clued him in on Nicky speaking to Maria. Huh, what were the odds of that happening after a certain little birdy had warned him about not going ‘home’?

Nicky’s expression turned confused and then panicked, which led to him hanging up the phone. By that point, Aaron had paused the game rather than continue racking up the points against their cousin and looked on in suspicion. “What the hell was that about?”

Nicky gave a nervous laugh as he stared at his phone rather than meet Aaron’s or Andrew’s gaze. “Ah, yeah, uhm, that was Mom.” He gave another nervous laugh. “She wanted to wish you guys a Happy Birthday.”

“Really?” Aaron didn’t appear convinced. “After a couple of years she suddenly does that? For me _and_ Andrew?” he asked as he folded his arms over his chest.

“Was that all?” Andrew asked as he set his book aside, certain that Nicky wasn’t telling them everything.

“Uhm, well, she mentioned Thanksgiving dinner, too.” He dared to give Andrew a hopeful smile. “Said it would be really nice if all three of us would come this year.”

And there it was, Josten’s warning making a bit of sense – not _why_ Andrew shouldn’t go, other than it being _Luther_ , but why it had been given. “No,” he said without any hesitation.

“But! But she-“ Nicky bit into his bottom lip as his expression became crestfallen. “She really wants all three of us there,” he tried in a quieter voice.

“Why?” Aaron asked in an incredulous tone, his brow furrowed as he shook his head. “She and your uncle can’t stand Andrew and they’re not really happy with you. I don’t know why we’re even talking about this, they haven’t had anything to do with us in years – we’ve already plans to spend the holiday with Abby even if her pies suck.”

“And there you have it,” Andrew told his cousin with a big grin. “Better a lousy pie and a dubiously cooked turkey that a nice meal with a couple of bigots.”

“But…” Nicky wilted under the weight of Andrew’s flat stare. “I… it’s my parents,” he said in a weak voice. “I haven’t seen them in a long time.”

“Feel free to go by yourself. Aaron and I will be at Abby’s.” Over at his desk, Kevin had actually paused the Exy game to watch the conversation, his gaze attentive as if entranced by the ongoing drama.

Nicky shook his head. “We… my mom… she said all of us… uhm, she really wants you there, Andrew.”

Oh, now wasn’t that _interesting_? Even Aaron appeared confused by that. “What the hell? I’d expect Uncle Luther to demand that he stays _away_ if anything.”

Yes, exactly, and ‘dear’ sweet Maria didn’t do anything without Luther pulling at her strings, so that meant that _Luther_ wanted Andrew there. “I’m not going,” Andrew repeated, even though part of him was a bit curious as to what the prejudiced bastard was planning. If he went, Kevin would go, and there was no way he was walking into a trap set up by Riko with Kevin tagging along – that might be what Josten was trying to prevent.

Still, a bit of clarity would be a good thing.

Nicky tried the big eyes for a minute or so before storming out of the suite, which was fine with Andrew. Aaron watched him go before starting another game. “What the hell was that about?”

“Luther being an asshole, most likely,” Andrew said as he resumed reading his book. Aaron seemed to consider that for a moment before agreeing, while Kevin watched them for a couple more seconds then returned to his game.

Nicky was upset with them for the rest of the weekend, especially when he must have called his mother back to say that Andrew and Aaron weren’t coming and been told that his presence alone wasn’t good enough (when would he get the fucking hint that he wasn’t wanted? That his asshole, prejudiced parents couldn’t accept him for who he was and he needed to move on?). He must have gone running to the upperclassmen because after the practice session on Sunday, Renee tried to talk to Andrew about it.

“So, Nicky-“

“ _No_ ,” Andrew told her as he shrugged on his sweatshirt. “We’re not going.”

“But if it’s a chance for him to-“

“His oh so pious parents detest anything to do with homosexuality,” he told her, unwilling to reveal Josten’s phone call. “They’re such _good_ Christians that they refuse to see anything that’s wrong under their noses, refuse anything anyone tells them that conflicts with their perfect worldview.” His hands clenched for a moment when he thought about that one conversation with Luther, about being told he’d been ‘mistaken’ about Drake and how Luther had obviously failed to do anything about Cass. “So no, we’re not going back.”

“People change, Andrew,” Renee said in a soft voice as she tugged on her cross.

He gave her a wide grin as he held up his forearms with the knives strapped to them. “Then why the conditions to the dinner, hmm? If they’ve suddenly seen the light, why are they insisting that all three of us be there? Why _force_ us to come? Tell me that’s not suspicious, especially when Nicky is so desperate to be there.”

She didn’t have an answer to that, so he went up to the roof to chain-smoke for a while before he put one of those knives to good use.

It was there that he was startled by his phone ringing, by Josten calling him on a Sunday. “Well, color me surprised,” Andrew said, only to raise an eyebrow when Moreau spoke instead.

“Shut up and listen to me, salaud, as there’s not much time.”

“Where’s Josten?”

“Studying with Marley. You won’t bother him about what he told you yesterday, do you understand?” Moreau ordered, his voice rough and low. “He’s in enough danger having passed that on, be thankful for it and don’t ask questions.”

“Be thankful for such a cryptic warning?” Andrew asked as he ground out the cigarette he’d been smoking. “What’s Riko up to, hmm?”

“You’re not listening to me, con,” Moreau snapped. “Stay away from the house or don’t, Neil told you more than enough.” As usual for these types of conversations, the line went dead after that proclamation.

So, what did one learn from that little call? Moreau was worried, very worried, for his partner. Which meant that Riko must be planning something very nasty for Andrew, which also meant that he was rather annoyed with Andrew. Ah, to be appreciated, what a feeling.

Andrew put up with Nicky being in a snit, with Gordon in a foul mood as his string of ‘bad’ luck continued (his phone receiving spam calls and texts at all times of the day, someone getting a hand on his social security number and opening fake accounts in his name, etc. – Andrew had to say he was somewhat impressed by whomever it was helping out Josten), with Kevin’s growing anxiety as the winter banquet approached and they waited to find out if the Foxes made the playoffs that year or not.

He didn’t ask about Josten’s little ‘tip’ on their next call, not because Moreau had warned him off but because he figured it was best not to push too much. He was rewarded in hearing the tension in the little birdy’s voice ease, for the mocking insults to be more teasing than tearing.

For Josten’s question to be about if he’d intended to kill those four men back at Eden’s Twilight, and there to be no judgment in his voice afterward when Andrew had admitted that he wouldn’t have cared if he had – he hadn’t deliberately set out to kill them, but he hadn’t intended to stop until they damn well knew to never lay a hand on his cousin ever again. That he wouldn’t have stopped except that the police had been so rude to interrupt him while he’d been teaching them that lesson.

He may have spent some time in the shower that night, after drinking a fifth of whiskey out on the back porch to get away from Kevin watching an Exy game on the television or risk overhearing Nicky and Erik having long-distance sex in the bedroom on the first floor or put up with Aaron blasting his music on the second floor. Spent the time thinking of a certain redhead laughing, pale eyes crinkling and lips twisted in a genuine smile for once, just like in the recent picture posted after their latest win.

Andrew might have a problem on his hands, he realized as he slumped against a wall of slick tiles, the hot water beating down on him and body wracked from his recent release, Josten’s voice still in his head as a strange lethargy weighed down his limbs unlike the times he got off after Roland or giving in to the rare, random urge to just jerk off.

To say he wasn’t in a good mood for the next few days was an understatement, with _Kevin_ snapping at him on Wednesday to get his head out of his ass and stop being a bastard. _Kevin_. Of course he backed down when Andrew gave him a flat look for a few seconds, but Andrew stopped sniping at people after that just because it required too much energy to keep up any longer.

That and some of the pictures came out from the weekend Josten and Moreau spent in New York, of them promoting a stupid Exy stick of all things. Whoever was behind the campaign was catering to all the fans reblogging the Instagram pictures of the two backliners hanging on each other, it seemed, since the one in the Exy magazine Nicky was hyperventilating over had Moreau looming over Josten with their racquets crossed and faces only an inch or two apart – the rest available online weren’t much better.

Gordon had a fit over the images, especially when Reynolds took to taunting him about the one she put on the background of her phone. The only benefit to it all was that Gordon actually put some effort into practice under the misguided belief that if he tried hard enough he might get back into Reynolds’ good graces, that and everyone knew about how there would be recruiters at the championship games. It would take a minor miracle for Gordon to be picked for any halfway decent team, but he might have a shot at a minor league team and work his way on up, or be drafted as a sub for the first year or two.

Well, he _might_ have, if he hadn’t pissed off a certain rookie Raven with all the right (wrong) connections.

It was probably pathetic how much Andrew now looked forward to Saturdays, not just because it usually meant he was free of Fox Tower and PSU and almost anything related to Exy (other than listening to Kevin arguing about watching recaps of the NCAA games from the night before and any professional ones played that day), or because it meant recovering from a night spent at Eden’s or being able to lie about in bed all day or sit on the back porch with a bottle of whiskey in his hand. No, at the moment he was out there with some spiked coffee and a cigarette, bundled in a heavy coat because of the encroaching winter season (there was only _one_ thing he missed about California, _one thing_ , and that was its year-long warmth) as he waited for his weekly dose of sarcasm and needling and truth.

“Did you miss me?” Josten asked when he called, voice laden with self-aware mockery.

“Like one does stubbing their bare toe against a brick wall,” Andrew said as he focused his attention on the broken, worn fence framing the back part of their yard, which Nicky swore he was going to hire some hot guy to fix one day.

“That much?” Josten made a gasping sound while Moreau muttered something in a weary voice near him. “I’m really beginning to think those pills are for delusions, you know.”

“Does that mean if I take them more often, you’ll go away?” Despite Josten’s teasing about Andrew’s meds, he never pried about them beyond asking the one question tied to Andrew’s use during games and the ongoing joke about just how delusional Andrew could be at times.

“If only it were that easy.” Some of the humor vanished from Josten’s demeanor after that. “It seems that we’re not that lucky, are we?”

Andrew was quiet as he sipped his coffee. “Bad day for smart-mouthed birdies at the Nest?”

“Why do you care?” Josten asked in a hoarse voice after a moment’s hesitation. “Why do you keep doing this? Don’t you have something better to do on a Saturday? You’re free, you’re out there and you could… you could do _anything_.”

Instead of being stuck at Edgar Allan, stuck beneath a stupid Exy stadium which by all accounts of Kevin’s was dark and dreary and as bad as any gothic horror novel Andrew had ever read, complete with monsters roaming the halls. “Yes, I could be watching Kevin yell at a pointless stickball game,” Andrew drawled. “Or putting up with my family. Somehow, being insulted by a little birdy is more fun.”

Neil sighed while Moreau said something to him in French. “It… I’m glad it’s the weekend. Some rest will be nice.”

“What about Thanksgiving? That’s a long weekend off, right?”

That wrung a laugh, albeit a tired one, from the not-rabbit. “Oh Minyard, what makes me so special that you save all the good jokes for these calls? Hasn’t Day told you about our holiday schedules? I need to rest up for that alone.”

Kevin had mentioned the sixteen hour days, but Andrew had assumed that was for the summer breaks, possibly the winter one, not for something as short as Thanksgiving. “You need to fail more, Josten. If you sucked at the stupid stickball game then maybe you could be on a less OCD team or something, maybe the Trojans.”

“There would be mass homicide within a month if I was on the same team as Jeremy Knox,” Josten stated, some of his humor restored while Moreau seemed to complain about something. That made Josten reply back in French, his tone at first curious and then disbelieving, before he laughed. “Too much ‘good will’ there, how can one stand it?”

“Yes, imagine all that fair play,” Andrew remarked with a hint of repulsion. “Disgusting.”

“Exactly!” Josten hummed a little. “All right, time for your question and then we need to go.”

Andrew wanted to ask about the bruises from back in September, wanted to know about Riko… but he decided to wait until after Thanksgiving to see just how much he could trust Josten before he pushed. “What’s your favorite color?”

There was silence on the line for several seconds, only broken by Moreau’s startled voice saying something in French before Josten shushed him.  “Seriously? You can ask anything and that’s your question?”

Andrew had a deep drag on his cigarette before he answered. “Yes.” He was rewarded by another genuine laugh.

“All right. It’s grey.” Josten huffed a little while Moreau mumbled something to him. “I know, no one believes me but it’s true.”

Andrew thought about how Josten had tried to blend in back in Arizona, how he’d been so quiet at the banquet until his temper (and sharp tongue) had won out, how he attempted (and failed) to fade into the background in all those photos and believed him. “Grey,” he breathed out.

“Yeah, grey,” Josten repeated, his voice soft. “So, uhm, I have to go,” he said, for once giving a bit of warning. “Homework and everything. Just… watch yourself, okay? Until Saturday.”

“Get some rest, little birdy,” Andrew said before _he_ was the one to hang up. Then he sipped the remainder of his now cool coffee while thinking of Josten in a large grey sweatshirt an awful like the one he was wearing at the moment instead of a black and red Edgar Allan one, and found himself liking the image.

Sometimes Andrew disgusted himself.

Nicky was back to being a little shit leading up to Thanksgiving, bitching about Abby’s cooking and being stuck on campus when everyone else was leaving to visit _family_. At least until Yee gave him a puzzled look and asked him what the hell he was complaining about when he was _with_ his family, wasn’t he? That Yee would gladly stay behind with Andrew and Aaron and Kevin (no fucking way), and Nicky could go deal with Yee’s overbearing parents (Andrew had the suspicion that someone didn’t want to break the news about his long-distance ‘not’ girlfriend just yet) in his place.

That seemed to shame Nicky into some sort of good behavior before the Foxes left for the holiday on Wednesday, and on Thursday morning they headed to Abby’s house for the holiday. Wymack was already there, of course, and watched the stupid parade with them (something Andrew never understood because it was boring as hell, but allowed him to remain on the couch for a couple of hours) while drinking coffee and mocking the costumes and the music ability of various bands. Once that was done, Abby cracked the whip and put everyone to work helping with the meal, which meant that Andrew peeled potatoes and chopped vegetables (he was fine with the tasks if knives were involved) while Abby and Wymack squabbled over things by the oven and the rest of the monsters cleaned the house and set the table.

Dinner was done by mid-afternoon, and despite Abby’s ongoing failure with dessert (they’d brought some store-bought pies and ice cream as back-up), the meal itself was decent and there was plenty of alcohol. Kevin and Wymack discussed (argued) about Exy for about half of the meal until Abby put an end to it, and after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence let them go at it again.

Everyone had to help out at the end to clean up, and once the table was cleared and the leftovers divvied up and packed away (they would be taking some back to the dorm to get them through the long weekend, much to Kevin’s dismay over the amount of carbs). Nicky and Aaron were on dish duty with Nicky laughing as he swiped bubbles on a frowning Aaron’s face enough times for Aaron to threaten to smother him in his sleep, while Kevin and Andrew had to take out all of the trash then come in and clean off the counters and stove while Wymack tended to the living room and Abby sat down to rest.

“So we can be back on the court tomorrow-“

“Saturday,” Andrew told the Exy addict inflicted upon him as he pulled out his pack of cigarettes as soon as they stepped outside. “I’m not stepping onto a court until Saturday. It’s a fucking holiday.”

Kevin glared, no doubt thinking of the accelerated schedule back at the Nest, before he sighed. “All day on Saturday.”

Andrew shrugged at that – he’d be sure to bring a few books or something to keep himself occupied while Kevin exhausted himself out on the court; it would be better than dealing with a hyper Nicky or a bored Aaron. “Fine.”

Kevin underwent a transformation of sorts – from glowering to almost giddy. “Really? I mean, of course.” He tried for confident and almost tripped over a planted mum along Abby’s back deck. “Right, we’ll be there by-“

Busy lighting a cigarette just then, Andrew looked over to see what had distracted Kevin and blinked a couple of times because of the sparks of light dancing in front of his eyes from the flame, only to realize that the coward was sprawled out on the ground. It took a moment for that to sink into his brain (too much alcohol, too much food), before he dropped the bag of trash in his left hand and the lighter in his right, but it didn’t do any good when something hard had already connected with the left side of his head.

He half-stumbled, half-fell onto the ground when a voice from his nightmares chuckled. “Oh look at you, AJ. Though I have to say, was hoping Aaron would be out here with you. Maybe later, yeah? This one isn’t doing _anything_ for me,” Drake said as he toed a seemingly unconscious Kevin with his right boot, a moue of disgust on his broad, ugly face.

Andrew stared up at his foster brother, at the man who had torn him apart, had ripped away the one good thing from his life and ruined everything for him, and found his body frozen. Found himself unable to move as a grinning Drake (an older Drake, a Drake with weight added on, flesh bloated on his detested face and brown hair no longer buzzed in a military cut) reached down to thread fingers into Andrew’s hair and yank him up onto his feet. “Oh AJ, how I missed you!” Then a fist slammed into the already sore side of Andrew’s face as something made him laugh, as the hatred/confusion/pain twisted into something so bitter that it had to spew out _somehow_.  “You’re such a bad boy, you know! Refusing to come home when you were called! Making me come here after you!”

That made something go off in Andrew’s head, his _aching_ head, but he was still overwhelmed with the fact that _Drake_ was there, that his nightmares had come to life in the one place which he thought was safe. He felt hands tug on his clothes as the mania built up in him, as it grabbed onto him and pulled him under, made him wonder why bother fighting when there was no use to anything? That as long as Drake was busy with him, that Aaron and Kevin were safe.

He was shoved against the deck, rough splinters biting into his face and hands grabbing onto his hips, when a loud, gruff voice called out. “How fucking long does it take you maggots to- what the _hell_!”

Wymack, part of Andrew’s brain registered as the weight against his back pulled away. “Wait, this isn’t, _he_ came on to _me_!”

“ _You fucking bastard_!” Andrew had never heard Wymack yell like that, had never heard such raw anger in his coach’s voice, and he just managed to twist about and slump against the deck as Wymack, all mottled face and twisted lips and whites of the eyes, yanked Drake away from him to smash his large right fist into the prick’s face. Not only once but several times until Drake made a mewl-like sound and collapsed onto the ground into a rather small pile for an almost two-hundred pound man.

Wymack looked ready to punch him again, to stomp on him, but he heaved a shuddering breath, the sound raw and aching even to Andrew, before he turned to Andrew with his reddened right hand before Andrew flinched from him. “Are you all right? What did he-“

“Kevin,” Andrew managed to get out even as he slumped some more against the wooden frame of the deck. “What about Kevin?” The right side of his face throbbed even as he couldn’t stop smiling, as his hands were curled into useless fists with his fingers biting into his palms so much that he felt blood well up into his nails. 

“Keh- oh hell.” Wymack stumbled over a few steps to Kevin’s still form and reached down to give him a tentative shake, which prompted a slurred complaint. By that point Abby was at the back door and asking what was going on, and rushed out when she noticed something while yelling inside. Soon enough there were too many panicked voices and the mention of ‘911’ and Wymack dragging a still groggy Drake away with Abby fussing over a flinching Andrew, Aaron shouting questions the entire time.

As the sound of sirens grew louder in the background, Andrew thought about how he was so looking forward to the winter banquet and thanking Riko for this little ‘present’.

******

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *******  
> Yeah... hmm....
> 
> Just one or two very minor changes kicking in because of the whole Raven!Neil premise. Nothing big at all....
> 
> So, back to Heartlines now???
> 
> Yeah, probably will get one more chapter of this out after that ending, considering poor Andrew and that we still need to see what's going on with Neil and Ichirou (it got rather Neil-heavy this chapter, didn't it?).
> 
> Also, nothing against Oasis and black pudding and snails and all. I just had to have these boys take swipes at SOMETHING (I like some Oasis songs, but they’re not the second coming of the Beatles). And nothing against goths, either, it was just a way for Neil to poke fun at Andrew’s image, a way for him to be antagonistic. Sometimes I worry about all these 'insults' are going to be taken personally. *frets*
> 
> And while I think Thea is a great character... am I the only one bothered by her and Kevin's relationship? With her being in her fifth year and him a freshman when they started dating? Especially when you throw in the whole weird hierarchy thing going on with the Nest/Ravens?
> 
> And the abuse - there's a reason why Riko is backing off a bit from Jean and Neil (namely Neil) and not just because of the media campaign - I think it's a bit unrealistic that he would be pummeling Neil so badly each and every week. Yes, smacking him around on the court, definitely. Yes, whenever Neil does anything to challenge him. Yes, there was a lot at first - that was Riko 'breaking' Neil in, making Neil bend the knee (much like what happened to Jean until he stopped fighting back), and then flare-ups whenever Ichirou is involved. It certainly doesn't mean that Riko won't snap anytime soon. But there is a set pattern to it. If there wasn't, then Jean would have a lot more stitches and broken bones than what Nora listed in the extra content. And there's a lot of ways to punish people (as shown with the sleep and food deprivation).
> 
> Uhm... I think that was it for the notes this week?
> 
> Well, that and Wymack IS AWESOME.
> 
> Oh! And look for the angsty Raven!Neil fic to be posted in a couple of days (maybe Tuesday, if not Wednesday) from the ExyorDeath zine!.
> 
> As always, the comments and kudos are greatly appreciated.  
> 


	9. Hundred Ways

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay... well, I think some of you might be happy about something in here, and some of you might not. *nervous laugh* Now a good time to say it might be a couple of weeks before another update?
> 
> Ah, no major triggers this chapter? Well, other than Andrew's past.
> 
> And thanks to Fall-for-the-game to reading through this to spot any mistakes! Any remaining ones are my own.  
> *******

*******

Andrew sat in one of the spare bedrooms at Abby’s house wearing an old hoody he’d left there over the summer and a pair of Nicky’s sweatpants. Beggars couldn’t be choosy when they’d been beaten up and almost raped by abusers from their childhood, it seemed, so there he was, stuck with a garish pair of purple pants with ‘JUICY AF’ emblazoned across his ass.

He’d never denied that irony was a fucking bitch.

He also needed whiskey in the worst possible way. That or Abby to come through with some magic pills, maybe some of Wymack’s pain meds. Hmm, there might be some in her bathroom, but unfortunately Andrew could still hear the murmur of unfamiliar voices out in the living room and knew that the pig police were still interviewing the others.

He didn’t feel like leaving the room, even to search for pain meds or alcohol for some reason. Instead, he fell back on the bed and stared up at the ceiling as he thought about all those nights back in Cass’ house in California, all those times when Drake had-

Did Josten know about Drake? Did he know what he’d warned Andrew about? Andrew frowned, the gesture sparking a dull ache in his bruised and scratched face which Abby had fussed over while crying just half an hour or so ago, as he recalled everything Josten and Moreau had said on the phone. Josten hadn’t even been certain about _which_ house to avoid, hadn’t he? He said ‘home’ and then ‘family’s home’, and _then_ mentioned ‘trap’, but that had been all. Well, that and he seemed to think it would be better by this weekend.

Which indicated that he didn’t know much, just that Riko had planned something and that he at least didn’t care for Andrew to be caught up in it. Despite Moreau’s protestations, Andrew had a few questions for his little birdy on Saturday, such as exactly _what_ Josten had known. Somehow, Andrew didn’t think it mattered much anymore, worrying about Riko when the plan had just blown up in his face, when Drake had been hauled away by the police beaten half to shit by Wymack for assaulting two people (at the least). As soon as the charges were filed and Drake’s name was in the system, it wouldn’t take long for Pig Higgins to be notified about the whole mess and then….

Andrew felt so very tired just then.

He was debating falling asleep when there was a quiet knock on the door. About to yell at Aaron or Nicky to leave him the hell alone since the police had his statement and everything, he flinched when Bee called out his name. He considered allowing her in for a couple of seconds before begrudgingly saying ‘yes’.

Bee slowly opened the door before she entered with a solemn expression on her face and a bag for a local super store held in her left hand. “Abby called me, and I stopped by a store on the way here.” She was supposed to spend the dinner with some other friends who ran a clinic about half an hour away.

“A liquor store?” Andrew asked as he sat up.

“No, not quite. I hope these fit – she told me that you needed some clothes.” She was mindful to set the bag at the end of the bed and leaned against the low dresser to give him plenty of space. “That looks painful,” she remarked as she gestured to his face.

“Yes, one is thankful that Abby doesn’t use thicker poles for her silly holiday banners, though she needs to seal her deck more often.” Andrew nodded in approval when he saw the black sweatpants inside of the bag, even if they were some cheap brand. “What all did she tell you?”

“That Kevin has a mild concussion and you’re not much better. That she’s worried about you, considering the assault and all.” When all Andrew did was stare back at her with a mocking grin, Bee sighed and slid down her glasses so she could rub at her eyes. “The police aren’t pressing any charges against David, not when Spear trespassed onto Abby’s property and managed to harm the two of you. Not when he resisted arrest.”

“Because he should have already been called in for question back in Oakland,” Andrew told her with a mocking smile. “This isn’t going to look good.”

“No, you told me about the one officer finally realizing what was happening in Cass Spear’s house.” Bee cast a considering look at the door leading to the hallway. “Andrew… perhaps we should schedule an extra session this weekend? Tonight must have been very difficult to deal with, overcoming Drake again and everything.”

He gave her a wide smile as he lightly touched the fingertips of his right hand to his swollen cheek. “Why? Because of him showing up here to ‘see’ me again? Because he beat up Kevin and then me?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” Bee said in a quiet voice. “But the choice is up to you, as always.”

Good old Bee, leaving the decision up to him, allowing him some _control_ in his life for once. Letting him decide if he wanted to talk about how he felt when his rapist had appeared out of nowhere and tried to hurt and abuse him once again. “What’s the point? Nothing happened.” Not _that_ time.

He refused to let anything have happened other than a few new bruises and owies, because that was what Riko was after, he guessed. Even if Drake hadn’t done more than smack him around (for once), Andrew wasn’t going to react, to break down or give in this time. He wasn’t a kid anymore, and he had promises to uphold.

“If that’s how you feel,” Bee murmured. “Just know that I’m here for you, and it’s not just me.” She stared down at her clasped hands. “Be it a phone call or to sit for a while and talk, just let me know.”

“Some pain meds would be good,” Andrew told her as he forced his aching body to stand up. “But for now, I want to change.” He couldn’t bear to wear Nicky’s stupid pants any longer.

“I’ll see if Abby has anything which she’ll approve,” Bee said as she left the room.

Wonderful. As soon as the door closed, Andrew removed the tags from the black pants and let Nicky’s obnoxious sweats fall from his hips before kicking them as far away as he could manage, then pulled on the new pair. By that point, it sounded as if the cops were gone so he left the room as well, mindful of any strange voices as he made his way down the hall to find his family seated in the living room.

Nicky jumped to his feet as soon as he spotted Andrew. “Hey! Are you… you all right?” His cousin’s eyes were red as if he’d been crying and his motions were jerky, a clear sign that Nicky had ingested a bit too much caffeine. “Uhm, there’s coffee and, ah, some pie and… something? Are you hungry?”

“Don’t be stupid,” Aaron chided him as he stood up, a bit unsteady at first as if from exhaustion. “Coffee?” By that point it was almost eleven at night and Andrew didn’t think he’d be sleeping any time soon, not when he wasn’t in the mood for nightmares.

“Spiked.”

Aaron nodded and went into the kitchen, where it sounded as if Abby, Bee and Wymack were gathered. “Where’s Kevin?”

“Downstairs,” Nicky explained. “Said his head hurts and it’s quiet down there.”

Well, one good thing about all of this was that there shouldn’t be any Exy practice until Abby cleared the junkie, which should be a few days at least. Andrew sat down in the recliner and gave Nicky a flat look when his cousin would have come close, unwilling to have anyone touch him (it had been bad enough having Abby examine him and the one cop take pictures of his injuries) or be near him at the moment – or anytime soon.

“I don’t want you drinking, Andrew,” Abby declared as she came out of the kitchen with Aaron, Wymack and Bee. “But I can give you something for the pain tonight if you stay here.”

“No,” Andrew said. “We’re going-“

“Kevin’s staying here,” Wymack said. “That way Abby can make sure he’s all right, and we’ll all go to the police station in the morning.” The police had taken their statements earlier after hauling Drake away, but they needed to stop by to make everything all nice and ‘formal’, oh joy. How Andrew just loved to spend time in the presence of those who were sworn to ‘serve and protect’, since they had always done right by him.

He directed the look Abby’s way. “They better be the good stuff.”

She sighed as she walked back toward her room. “At the least, they should knock you out so you don’t cause too much trouble.”

“You’re a veritable Florence Nightingale,” Andrew called out even as he internally winced at the pain it caused him.

Aaron handed over the mug of coffee while eyeing him up and down. “You-“

“Shhh,” he told his brother, unwilling to talk about anything; Aaron had been in an inquisitive mood ever since the ‘incident’ had happened, wanting to know about Drake, about why the bastard had shown up at Abby’s house and targeted Andrew, about why Andrew’s clothes had been torn and Wymack so enraged. At least Wymack had done a good job of ensuring that Drake could barely talk, knocking out a few teeth and almost breaking the bastard’s jaw, so there hadn’t been any unfortunate revelations before the pig police had dragged the waste of flesh away.

“Call if you need me tomorrow,” Bee told him before giving Abby and Wymack a hug ‘goodbye’ while Andrew washed down the pills Abby handed him once she returned with some coffee, and after that he returned to the bedroom after a short detour to the bathroom. He didn’t think he’d fall asleep, but whatever Abby gave him was potent and helped to stave off the nightmares for most of the night.

It still didn’t prevent him waking up drenched in sweat with the feel of large, calloused hands holding him down, with Drake’s too-pleased voice in his ear calling him ‘AJ’, the sensation of hot breath against his cheek and weight against his back and hopelessness as he was unable to do anything but lie there and accept the pain, accept the fact that he was weak and helpless and pathetic and-

He jerked upright on the bed, his fingers buried in his hair and body tense despite the way it made his sore muscles ache even more. Abby’s, he was at Abby’s. Even as he reminded himself of that fact, that Drake was stuck in some jail cell at the moment, he couldn’t wipe the awful memories from his mind (he could _never_ do that, could he?) ingrained from too many terrible nights, too many terrible foster homes over too many terrible years.

What was the point of moving on when your own brain was the worst possible traitor?

He got out of bed, but there weren’t any clean clothes to change into so he went out into the living room, determined to head back to campus to grab something for him and the others. Except he stopped with a jolt of fear/anger/shock when he found Wymack sitting in the dark, nursing what looked to be a glass of bourbon.

“Couldn’t sleep either?”

Andrew shrugged as he tugged on the front of his damp sweatshirt, his hands jittery from the adrenalin. “Need something to wear.”

“Come on, I’ll drive,” Wymack said as he stood up. When Andrew hesitated, the man grunted once. “I’m not in the mood for any of your bullshit tonight. This morning. Whatever fucking time it is.”

“Whatever.” Andrew grabbed his coat off of the hook along the way and shoved his bare feet into his shoes, and held out his hand for a cigarette when Wymack lit one up.

They were quiet for the first minute or two. “Betsy said she offered you a chance to speak to her. I hope you take her up on it.”

Andrew let out a harsh breath of smoke. “None of your business if I do or don’t.”

“No, but… look, I just know what I saw and what he said, and all _I’m_ going to say is whatever happened or he tried to do, it’s not your fault.” Wymack’s large, bruised hands with the scraped knuckles clenched hard enough around the steering wheel of his shitty sedan to make it creak. “He’s entirely to blame and if it wouldn’t make me like- well, he deserved having his neck snapped but it’s not right, meeting violence with violence.”

“We’ll agree to disagree with that one, Coach.” Andrew would have been perfectly fine with the man breaking Drake’s neck. “Though suppose it would be difficult to yell at us from a prison cell.”

“Exactly,” Wymack huffed as he continued to stare out of the bug-smeared windshield of his vehicle. “Anyway, do what you gotta do that’s good for you.”

“That’s not talk about this,” Andrew informed the meddler. “Worry about Kevin, who is going to be unbearable when he starts going through Exy withdrawals.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Wymack muttered. “And yeah, he’s already freaking out a little about our game with the Yellow Jackets next week.”

No surprise there indeed. Andrew slumped down in the passenger seat, which seemed to indicate to Wymack that he was done talking, and the man took the hint for once. They smoked in relative silence the rest of the way to the dorm and parked close to the entrance, the parking lot almost empty, and made their way inside.

Andrew grabbed a bag from his closet and randomly shoved clothes in it out of Nicky’s, Aaron’s and Kevin’s drawers (well, he did take great delight in picking out whatever _wasn’t_ black for Kevin), and a loose, warm black sweater and baggy jeans for himself, for a moment his lips twitching as he remembered Josten’s ‘goth’ comment. “Shower,” he called out to Wymack, who was sitting on the couch and grunted something back at him, so Andrew finished picking out clean clothes for himself and went into the bathroom.

Once the door was locked behind him, he stripped down and got the hot water running, and spent only a few seconds checking out the damage in the rapidly fogging mirror; it wasn’t worth the effort to shave, not with as bruised and scraped as his face was right then, so he turned away and climbed into the shower once he was naked.

His hands hurt from where his nails had bitten into his palms the night before, but he ignored that, as he did the sting of soap and shampoo in his face – he was good at ignoring things, at willing the pain away. Because that’s what life was, pain and disappointment and never getting what he wanted, of always being let down.

Except that Drake had been stopped that time. Except someone had tried to keep the bastard away from him (for all the good it had done). That he had people who told him they’d listen if he wanted to talk.

Ha, Kevin wasn’t the only one with the head injury.

Still, Andrew washed and dried off without adding to any of the faded lines along his forearms, without adding to the aches on his body, and found a bleary-eyed Wymack waiting for him on the couch. “About time, you damn dwarf,” the man complained. “Let’s go get some coffee.”

“You’re paying.”

Wymack snorted at that but didn’t complain, and they found a place with fresh-made donuts and hot coffee. They ate a couple (more than a couple on Andrew’s part) right there while enjoying a cup of coffee, and took a dozen back to Abby’s. She was waiting for them with a weary smile on her face and a big iron skillet of bacon on the stove, and made them some eggs for breakfast.

Andrew grabbed another donut and was yelled to get his grubby midget hands away from them, which seemed to wake up a grumpy Aaron. Nicky wasn’t too far behind his cousin, and smiled when he saw everyone in the kitchen. That left Kevin, and Abby went to wake him up before Andrew could have any fun since they needed to go to the police station soon.

It still took over an hour for everyone to get ready, especially Kevin, who for some reason wasn’t happy to change into a bright orange PSU sweatshirt and blue jeans even if they were clean clothes. Nicky sniggered and even Aaron appeared somewhat amused.

After arguing with Aaron and Nicky to stay at Abby’s, Andrew and Kevin went off in the GS while Abby and Wymack drove in her Corolla to the police station downtown, the streets busy with everyone out doing their post-holiday shopping and shit. At least not too many people were interested in hanging out with the police so they managed to find parking spots at the station, though Andrew felt the latest dose he’d taken wind up his emotions more and more with each step closer to the front entrance, the wonderful medicated leash on his anger which twisted everything into an awful hyperness and false ‘happiness’ rather than allow him to lash out with a well-deserved fury for the ineffectiveness of the social watchdogs.

Abby spoke to some middle-aged guy at the front desk who gave Wymack and Kevin a curious look before telling them to wait for a moment while he called someone. It took a couple of minutes before another guy, about ten years younger, came to get them – an Officer Richards. He had a slight southern drawl and an earnest smile, which Andrew wanted to smack off of him. “Let’s go back to my desk, all right?”

The pig’s desk had pictures of a young woman with long braids and two young children, girls with brightly plaited corn rows, scattered on it, and several folders stacked near a computer. “Please, sit,” Richards told Abby and Wymack as he motioned to the two chairs in front of his desk, then looked around for more chairs. “Uhm….”

“They’re young, they can stand,” Wymack insisted. “Besides, hopefully this won’t take long, right?”

“Hopefully not, and if it does I’ll find us a room somewhere,” Richards told him. “I largely need you to sign the documents I prepared based on the statements that you gave me and my colleagues last night.” As he spoke, he opened one of the folders and spread out several pages of typed documents. “These will be your formal statements for the time being as we-“ The phone on his desk began to ring and at first he ignored it, until he glanced at the small screen. “One moment. Richards speaking.” He appeared annoyed at first, and then stunned. “Wait, are you- okay, but… how did that… okay, okay! It’s just I’m talking with… _fuck_.” He was quiet for almost a minute as he gave Wymack and Abby a quick glance then turned away in his chair, which oh, was that a bad sign or what? When Andrew leaned over the desk with his hands resting on top of it, Richards flinched and shifted farther away as if to keep the conversation private. “Okay, I got it. Thanks.”

When he hung up, there was a bit of sweat on his forehead and he looked an awful lot like someone who’d been given bad news. “Trouble?” Andrew asked with a wide grin as he stood up with his arms folded across his chest, mindful of the lack of knives in his bands all because _someone_ had made him leave them at her house, the killjoy. Something about metal detectors and the police not liking it when you paid them a visit while armed….

“Yeah, what the hell was that all about?” Wymack demanded to know as _he_ leaned forward. “Something wrong?”

Richards hesitated a moment before he sighed and pushed the papers forward along with a couple of pens. “Go ahead and sign these, just in case, but I’ve just been informed that Drake Spear was found dead this morning.”

It felt as if something was wrapped around Andrew’s head and his chest upon him hearing those words, because everything else after that was muffled, was as if it was from so far away – was Richards’ explaining how Drake had been taken to the hospital because of his injuries the night before and kept in a secure room. Yet somehow he managed to commit suicide from what they could tell, and the doctors had been unable to resuscitate him.

Drake was dead.

Andrew didn’t realize it, but at some point he’d begun to laugh, his fingers dug into the empty fabric of the bands on his forearms and his mouth stretched wide in a grin. It wasn’t until Kevin touched him that it occurred to him that he was the one making the loud, obnoxious sound even as he smacked the coward’s hand aside with enough force to make Kevin flinch.

“Andrew? Are you all right?” Abby asked as she rose up from the chair, her expression one of pure concern.

He didn’t answer her, instead he leaned over the desk to look for the paper with his name on it and scrawled his signature on the bottom line before spinning around and stalking away, figuring that Kevin could ride back with Abby and Wymack. All that mattered at the moment was getting out of the damn building filled with such useless civil servants, with all those people who had never done Andrew any good and out in his car, out on the road.

The GS roared to life and helped to clear his head, to wipe away the last of the muffled feeling from his mind and body. It took a few minutes to get on the highway, to feel completely unfettered, but soon enough he was tearing up the asphalt and shifting into 5th gear, was able to grab his cigarettes and light one as the car lurched straight ahead.

Drake was dead.

It was like an improbable dream, was like the sun shining after days of rain. First the bastard showing up out of nowhere, and now he was gone? As simple as that? Oh no, something had happened there, but for once Andrew didn’t care, not when one of his longest nightmares had finally been put to rest (it wasn’t that simple, it was _never_ that simple, part of him whispered, but he didn’t care just then). For just a few hours he wanted to pretend that things were almost all right.

During that time, he ignored the calls and texts on his phone, ignored everything until he realized that he’d need another pill at some point. So he pulled over and grabbed some energy drinks and candy bars to tide him over on the drive back, filled up the tank and checked his phone, deleting all of the messages on it as unnecessary before he sent one off to Josten telling the birdy to call him as soon as possible.

Everyone was still at Abby’s when he returned, Nicky sitting on the front porch huddled in his coat and expression anxious. He jumped to his feet and raced down into the driveway when Andrew pulled up, and Aaron stepped outside a few seconds later.

“Ah, so you’re still alive,” Nicky said with a nervous smile. “Guess I don’t get to rent out your room just yet.”

Andrew flipped him off while he looked over at his brother, who gave him a slight nod. “We leaving now? Abby doesn’t have any good games here and I didn’t bring my textbooks with me.”

“Grab your things,” Andrew told him as he flicked the last inch of his cigarette aside. “Where’s Kevin?”

“Inside,” Aaron said as he went back in with Nicky right behind him.

Andrew followed, and as soon as Abby saw him, she smiled in relief and stood up from the couch. “I’ll go put together something you boys can take with you.” Meanwhile, Wymack paused the Exy game he and Kevin had been watching and leaned forward with the remote held between his hands to give Andrew a long look.

“I know you don’t like it when I-“

“Let’s just end things right there, Coach,” Andrew told him with a smile. “I feel like we’ve spent much too much personal time together, so see you on Monday, let’s not do this again.”

“Dammit, Andrew, just because that bastard is-“ Wymack cursed when the wooden coaster Andrew had picked up and flung at him hit him in the chest.

“No, sorry, what part of ‘end things’ didn’t you get?” Andrew asked while Kevin slowly got up from the couch and edged away from the two of them. “This is officially declared over as of now.”

Wymack appeared ready to throw the coaster and more back at him before he let out a slow breath and set it down on the coffee table. “There’s the fact that Kevin might not be able to play in Friday’s game so not quite over, and what if the police come back with any charges?”

“There’s no reason to, not when the only person who would press them is dead at his own hand,” Andrew said with a grin, which made Kevin shake his head and Wymack give him an odd look for some reason. “So thank whatever imaginary being you want, have Renee waste a stupid candle or not, but this is _done_ ,” he repeated yet again. “Now we’re leaving so I can spend the rest of the weekend in bed.”

Kevin finally spoke up. “But I-“

“Concussion,” both Andrew and Wymack said in unison, which made Andrew feel a bit disgusted.

“You’re not allowed on the court until Abby clears you, dammit,” Wymack snapped.

“Try to go to practice this weekend and I’ll hit you with your own racquet,” Andrew warned. “I’ve had enough bullshit, I’m on break.” That said, he turned around to leave, to find a wincing Abby waiting by the steps with a large shopping bag in her hands.

“Bring the empty containers to practice next week,” she told him. “And there’s some meds in there for both of you, just enough for the weekend. Be careful, and call me if Kevin’s headaches get worse or if you’re in any real pain.”

He gave her a slight nod as he accepted the bag, and left when it looked as if she was going to say something else, maybe about talking to Bee. Nicky and Aaron were already in the car, and Kevin came stumbling out after a minute, busy pulling on his black coat and a familiar scowl on his face.

“I’d be fine to play this weekend,” he mumbled as he sat in the back of the GS.

“Go ahead, and see how long Abby benches you after that,” Aaron said as he tapped away on his phone. “Though maybe I can use you as a test case for one of my papers.”

“Hey! Didn’t you yell at Yee a couple of weeks ago when he thought he sprained his ankle?” Nicky added as he poked at Kevin’s left shoulder. “Some big dramatic speech about taking being injured serious? A bit two-faced, are we?”

Kevin’s pout became a bit guilty as he shoved Nicky away. “I’m not – we still have a game before winter break, dammit. We can’t afford to have me benched for it.”

“Someone doesn’t think much of himself, does he?” Aaron asked out loud in a sarcastic tone of voice.

“Yes, rather sickening, isn’t it?” Andrew tapped his fingers against the steering wheel as he looked back at Kevin through the rear-view mirror. “Georgia Academy’s not the best team in the league right now, so somehow I think we’ll manage without you.”

“I… dammit, we need to win. We _should_ have enough points to at least place fourth again, but we can’t lose now.” Kevin touched his fingers lightly to the bruised left side of his face and winced.

“We won’t.” If Andrew had to shut down the goal (he had a feeling he’d be playing the whole game so Renee could help out again, maybe sub for Wilds while their captain stepped in for Kevin), he would, just so Riko’s little ‘trap’ didn’t fuck things up for the Foxes and break Kevin’s spirit. Too much rested on the Foxes making it to the championship, was what kept Kevin going at the moment.

Oh, it had been clever, sending a monster from Andrew’s past to chase him down – Andrew had to give the prick that much credit. He didn’t know how Riko had found out about Drake… but he supposed that it might not have been that difficult to figure out if Pig Higgins had done it finally. There was the question about how Luther played into things, something to consider later on, but right then all that mattered was that dear Riko had dug up and set on Andrew someone whom Andrew had gone to desperate lengths to escape from in the past. Had Riko counted on Andrew doing that this time as well? To leave the Foxes and so Kevin unprotected? Or would Drake have broken him enough that he wouldn’t have been able to keep his word to Kevin even if he wanted?

Either way, it was clear that Riko had tried his best to get Andrew out of the way, only to fail. Now did the prick try again or did he learn from his mistakes?

“Are we staying here all weekend?” Nicky asked once they reached Fox Tower. “I mean, there’s no Exy practice now, right?”

Andrew shook his head. “We’re staying in case Kevin needs Abby or Wymack needs us for anything.” Andrew would be a bit bothered if the police did decide that they were required for a follow up on something, but it was probably safer to hang out around campus and a building with some sort of security than at the house in Columbia.

“Oh, okay.” Nicky didn’t seem too upset about that. “Then I’m going to run out for some alcohol.”

“Make it quick,” Andrew told him.

It was a few hours later when Andrew was in the bedroom reading a book and the others out in the main room (Kevin watching Exy games, the others playing some stupid video game) that his phone rang. When he saw Josten’s number, he got down from his bed and went over to the one window, which should be far enough away that the others wouldn’t hear him. “Minyard?” Josten sounded tired and wary.

“In the flesh, though it’s a bit battered and bruised,” Andrew told him. “’Trap’ was an understatement, little bird.”

There was silence for a moment before Josten let out a harsh breath. “You went home? How _stupid_ are-“

“No, the ‘trap’ came looking for me,” Andrew explained as an odd sense of relief filled him; as far as he could tell, that had been genuine surprise and then anger there from Josten. “Tell me exactly what you knew about it, what Riko set up. I’m not happy right now, little bird, which isn’t a good thing, especially when Kevin was hurt as well and my brother threatened.”

There was cursing on the line in French and what sounded to be Japanese, both Josten and Moreau, followed by a quick debate – Moreau’s deeper voice sharp and Josten’s tired enough that Andrew almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

“All right,” Josten said after about a minute. “It’s not much, I told you that already! All I know is the little I overheard, and that was Riko talk to someone about doing a background check on you, something about a family in California and a brother… adopted or something?” He paused for a moment, and when Andrew didn’t say anything, he sighed. “Then there was mention about family in Columbia, something about a dinner over the holidays and all I knew for certain was that whatever he had planned for you wouldn’t be good. He knows that once you’re out of the picture that Kevin can’t keep refusing him for long. But all I really knew about was the family dinner.”

Andrew thought about that, thought about the inflection in Josten’s voice and how he could usually spot a lie a mile away – for once he wasn’t getting the sense of any from the not-rabbit. Josten might have known about Drake in the general sense, but he didn’t know any specifics or why Riko had sent him after Andrew, and there was an annoying sense of relief at that. “Wonderful, so I can expect him to try again, I assume.”

That caused another mini-conversation in French, which reminded Andrew that he needed to get that damn dictionary soon. “Ah, you might… well, it seems that someone noticed what Riko has been doing,” Josten said in a small voice while Moreau took to what sounded to be cursing again. “I think… you should be all right, at least for a while.”

“Oh really? Does a certain little birdy have a song to sing to me?” Andrew asked with a grin. “I’m all ears, chirp away.”

“No, he doesn’t,” Moreau snapped, his voice rough and loud. “He’s given you enough, salaud, and we should be asleep. Fuck off.” Of course the phone went dead after that.

Andrew sighed as he looked at the screen displaying the length of the call and its disconnected status; Frenchie was growing to be quite the annoyance. Then he thought about how quiet Josten’s voice had been when he’d assured (somewhat) Andrew that Riko had been checked for the time being. Something had been off there – did someone frighten Josten? Had they hurt him?

That… Andrew didn’t like that idea. All of a sudden he was reminded of why Moreau was furious with him and protective of Josten, of what might be happening in the Nest. Of bruised wrists and shadowed, empty eyes and ‘no touch’ airs. Of pricks who thought child molesters were effective weapons and broken hands were suitable leashes.

He needed a drink, needed something to keep him from punching his own hand through a window again, with no Renee around to patch him up that time. And then he needed to think about an upcoming banquet.

*******

Neil was able to enjoy the colder days of November - for once he was equipped with a heavy enough coat as well as new shoes and gloves, even had a soft scarf that Jean and Meg were always getting on him to wrap around his neck whenever he left the Nest. All of it was black with red edging and raven emblems, but it was still warm and new (and a bit closer fitting than he preferred, unless he managed to snag some of Jean’s older clothes). It had been so long since he’d owned anything so nice and effective, that he didn’t need to wear at least three layers to keep him from shivering at that time of the year.

So he went about the Edgar Allan campus bundled up in his Ravens’ coat with the ‘4’ and ‘Josten’ on the back, hands shoved into black leather gloves and lower face wrapped up in the stupid scarf (he refused to wear the hat since it muffled his hearing) with Jean and Marley and Meg beside him as they attended class, dark shadows on the campus amid brightly dressed students laughing and shouting at each other. With so many art and theater majors in attendance, the Ravens stood out in their black and red, with the way they went about in two’s (at least) and that they were mostly quiet. They stood out in the way that they were treated with a referential manner, were given a bit of space (were left alone).

No one asked Neil about his plans for Thanksgiving in his classes, for which he was ‘thankful’ (ha) for, especially when it seemed all the other students could talk about – they complained about completing assignments before the holiday, studying for exams and figuring out travel plans home, things like that.

Some of the Ravens were going home, since it was a short holiday; Tetsuji must have learned to (begrudgingly) concede it to their families to placate them over the Christmas and summer holidays. Marley was only flying home for two days, having talked her parents into the arrangement with how much progress she was making and how she couldn’t risk losing any ground. Meg had argued going home for Thanksgiving but staying for Christmas break, and cried for most of the evening after the call.

Jean had been quiet for an hour or two after listening to the girls’ complain about their situations, until Neil had sprawled across his legs and taunted him about being a gloomy, soggy baguette and trying to take away Minyard’s title of ‘goth bastard’. That had led to Jean going on a verbal rampage of at least twenty minutes of why all redheads were the offspring of the Devil and God had clearly tried to save the world from the British people by sequestering them on an island but then the Devil just had to go and create ships to plague the rest of the world and-

Well, Neil had to remember that particular taunt since it seemed to work very well in riling up his roommate.

He also wondered if Jean’s parents were still alive and if he could ask another favor from his uncle, before deciding that Jean might not be happy about that. Which was a shame, because those two certainly deserved everything Gordon was going through and more, so _much_ more, but Neil had realized months ago that Jean was a much better person than he’d ever be.

Though Jean didn’t seem to like Minyard at all.

That might have something to do with Minyard bitching about the bit of information Neil had handed over in regards to Riko’s grand scheme to get Minyard out of the way, which wasn’t all that much (because Neil didn’t _know_ much, just the little he’d overheard here and there). At least the ungrateful asshole had quieted down after the one call, which was good because Neil would have just kept his phone turned off if Minyard had continued to push.

He wouldn’t want anyone (well, _almost_ anyone) to suffer through something Riko was setting up that seemed intentionally set to break that person, to ensure that they wouldn’t be able to get in his way any longer, but Neil couldn’t risk Minyard drawing Tetsuji’s attention their way again, either. Which was why on the Thursday before their game with the Georgia Academy Yellow Jackets, he wasn’t pleased to have Nakamura pull him from the court during evening practice.

“What?” he asked the man when the assistant coach waved him away from where he was practicing throws with Jean, Marley and Meg.

“ _You are to come with me_ ,” Nakamura told him in Japanese, his demeanor stern as his dark eyes glanced up at the East Tower.

Shit. Neil’s fingers clenched around his racquet for a moment before he sighed and nodded once, then went to give the stick to a quiet Marley. “ _Be careful_ ,” he warned Jean in French, all too unhappy that he was leaving his partner alone to face Riko.

“ _And you_ ,” Jean said; it looked like he wanted to add something to that, but shook his head instead.

Neil could feel the attention of all the other Ravens on him as he walked off the court with Nakamura, and knew that Riko was probably glaring at him. He showered as quickly as possible and dressed in the usual track pants and Jean’s sweatshirt before meeting Nakamura in the hallway, hopeful that if he got things out of the way in a hurry that he might be able to be back down there before practice ended.

Yeah, because he was lucky like that.

Because he was ‘that lucky’, it was Ichirou in the East Tower that evening. Neil supposed it said something about his life that he was half-looking forward to DiMaccio of all people, to being smacked around a little and threatened about his father, perhaps told that he better continue to behave or he’d have some limbs cut off, things like that. Things he was used to, that he’d been putting up with for most of his life. Violence and threats and abuse, just the same old, same old.

Not someone doing nice things for him for some reason he couldn’t figure out, ask him seemingly innocuous questions and then imply that he owed them a debt, touch him without causing harm and… he still didn’t get Ichirou, and that _bothered_ him.

“ _You can leave_ ,” Ichirou told Nakamura, who gave a quick but deep bow and did as he’d been told. What surprised Neil was that Ichirou then turned to the stocky bodyguard standing near the door, a Japanese man in his mid-30s perhaps, not much taller than Ichirou but broad of shoulders and chest, and told him the same. When the man hesitated, Ichirou repeated the order with a hint of impatience.

The bodyguard gave Neil a searching look for a moment before bowing much like Nakamura had done and left the room, the door closing behind him.

“Was that wise?” Neil asked as he took a cautious couple of steps further into the room.

Ichirou shrugged as he went over to the bar and poured two glasses of what looked to be whiskey – probably the same expensive brand as before. “I’m certain that the only weapon you have on you is the one knife, and if I can’t handle that, then I’ve several instructors who would be very disappointed in me.” He set the carafe of whiskey aside and turned around to face Neil, a slight, bemused smile on his face as he unbuttoned his dark grey suit coat to reveal the holstered gun he wore beneath it, over the black vest. “Or am I wrong?” he asked as he leaned against the bar.

Neil hesitated for a moment as he thought about the folly of lying to the young man who held so much power – who would hold _all_ the power over him one day. “It’s not balanced well for throwing, so yes, you have the advantage as long as there’s distance between us. I’m not certain what you’ve been taught when it comes to close fighting….” He hesitated again, and it was the cool gaze leveled at him, at the fact that his uncle was negotiating with Ichirou that spurred him on. “Hatfords are used to dealing with people who think they have the upper hand because of size and strength.”

“And you were trained by a Hatford, yes?” Ichirou asked with a confident smile as he reached behind him for one of the glasses. “By your mother?”

“Somewhat,” Neil admitted. “She didn’t want that life for me, but she taught me enough to keep us both alive.”

“So you would be a challenge. Delightful.” Ichirou motioned Neil to come to him, and Neil had no choice but to obey; he stopped just out of arm’s reach and noticed how Ichirou’s eyes narrowed at that. “Is something wrong?”

“ _No, it’s fine, my lord_.”

Those dark eyes narrowed even more as Ichirou reached for the other glass of whiskey. “ _Never_ lie to me, Nathaniel. That is the only time I will ever tell you that. You will always tell me the truth.” Neil flinched as the glass was handed to him, and realized a moment later that Ichirou was only waiting for him to take it. “Now, what is wrong?”

“I… I don’t like being close to other people,” he admitted. “My lord.”

Ichirou studied him for a couple of seconds while sipping his drink. “You seem to have no problems with your partner or your fellow freshmen.”

Neil shook his head. “But they’re….” He hurried to have some whiskey rather than finish that sentence.

“They’re what?”

Of course Ichirou would catch that.

“They’re… safe, my lord,” Neil attempted to explain, his voice rough from more than the whiskey and cheeks heated from admitting the truth.

“I see.” Ichirou resumed studying Neil’s face for about a minute before he finished the remaining whiskey in his glass in one toss. “Did you talk to your uncle?”

“I… yes.” Neil rubbed at his eyes, confused and a little wary at the way the conversation had just switched. “Uhm, about what I-“

“In a moment,” Ichirou told him with a sense of finality. “You seemed to enjoy your stay in New York, the hotel room and everything."

Neil thought about the souvenirs and wondered if that had been a mistake. "Uhm, we brought back a few things for-" How did he explain the gifts?

Fortunate for him, it seemed that Ichirou understood. "It's wise, forging ties with your teammates. You need all the allies you can make." He nodded to the glass Neil held in his hand. "I've found that my uncle has done what he can to shape Edgar Allan into his own little world, with Castle Evermore - the Nest, as you call it - as the center of it all." Ichirou's mouth twisted into something not quite like a bitter smile. "A castle indeed."

Pausing to finish his drink, Neil held the empty glass cradled to his chest. "And should I limit my allies to the other players?" he asked as some suspicions began to form in his mind.

"I understand why your uncle speaks so highly of you, the few times you're mentioned." Ichirou set his empty glass on the bar and motioned for Neil to hand over his, which he did; he refused to show any emotion when their fingers brushed against the other's. "I am somewhat... concerned to find that my uncle has people so loyal to _him_ when they all answer to my father in the end."

"So you would appreciate someone who understands that, side branch aside, the main branch is the one with the authority," Neil surmised as he wrapped his arms around his torso while he gazed at Ichirou, mindful as always to take his queues from the person with the real power, from the one who could harm him the most.

"Yes." Ichirou gave him a slight smile as if pleased. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"Yes and no," Neil admitted, since Ichirou had demanded the truth from him. "You're Kengo's heir and the one with the power, the one I answer to in the end. But I deal with Riko and Tetsuji every day so forgive me if I'm a bit concerned here." His fingers dug into his sides for a moment, into his sore ribs and new scars.

"Understandable." Things were quiet for a couple of seconds as Ichirou seemed to consider his words. "I can't ensure that my uncle's men are entirely truthful with me, but I _can_ make it known that you answer to me from now on, that you’re one of my own."

Neil wasn't so sure about that, but he didn't see how he had any choice in the matter, not really. Not since the moment the Moriyamas had found him in Texas back in April, not since his father had decided that he'd hand his only child over to the yakuza family. " _I understand, my lord_ ," he said in what he hoped would be an acceptable manner.

" _Do you really_?" Ichirou asked as he reached out to cup Neil's left cheek, his palm fitting over the '4' tattoo.

"Ah...." Neil wondered if any of this had to do with the gift basket back in the hotel, with Jean's insistence that Ichirou was 'interested' in him even if Neil couldn't understand 'why'. " _No_?"

" _Still being honest_ ," Ichirou remarked as he tugged Neil a little closer. "What would you say if I told you that I wanted to kiss you?"

The question made Neil blink in surprise, as used to as he was to people taking what they wanted from him. "I... is that all?" he asked as he tensed with suspicion and fear, ready to pull away at the very least even when he knew it would do him little good, that he couldn't go far and that he couldn't fight back against the Moriyama heir.

"Yes."

He considered it for a moment, about how it had felt when Marie had kissed him all those years ago. It hadn't been worth his mother's reaction, but it hadn't been terrible, either, hadn't been anything like- "Uhm, okay."

Now Ichirou's smile was a bit mocking. "So encouraging," he murmured as he tilted up Neil’s chin and stepped a little closer, as he brushed their lips together. Neil tensed at the contact, but all he felt was the warmth where their mouths pressed together, was the firm but not painful hold on his chin and the lighter pressure on his lips, the brush of gloved fingers along the left side of his face. Ichirou’s eyes were a dark gold like a thick honey, almost like a caramel color….

Neil drew in a shuddering breath when he found himself staring, and felt the faintest of nips at his bottom lip before Ichirou pulled away, his gloved hand sliding along Neil’s jaw. Left uncertain by everything, Neil shook his head and took a step back.

After Neil moved away, Ichirou turned around to pour another glass of whiskey; when he held up the carafe and gave Neil a questioning look, Neil shook his head again, deciding it was best to keep what few wits he still had at the moment. "Now for the matter of the debt," Ichirou said. "Riko has been sending men out to California for something, and I want to know why that's so."

"I know a little about that," Neil said as he once more wrapped his arms around his sore ribs, left bereft of warmth for some reason. "Not much, but a little." Why was his voice so hoarse?

"I don't expect you to provide me with a complete answer wrapped up in a pretty paper," Ichirou drawled as he leaned once more against the bar. "But some enlightenment would be appreciated, especially so quickly."

Neil huffed at that as he inclined his head. "He's displeased about Kevin Day continuing to play for the Foxes and believes that part of it has to do with Andrew Minyard providing protection. So as far as I can tell, he had some people look into Minyard's background there?" He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment as he debated how much he should reveal, and decided that it wasn't worth holding anything back from the man - at least in regards to Riko. "I've overheard what sounds like him planning to arrange something in South Carolina but I don't know much of the details, just that it has something to do with Minyard's family there and the upcoming holiday."

"I see." Ichirou was quiet while he sipped the whiskey, his attention seemingly turned inward for about a minute. “That is helpful.”

It was probably too much to hope that Ichirou would indicate if he would do anything about Riko or put a stop to whatever was in motion, but Neil supposed it was enough that the man knew what the bastard was up to, at least. “Is there anything else?”

Ichirou’s attention focused back on Neil. “No, that’s all. Continue to pay attention, Nathaniel.” He nodded once before he went over to the windows, pulling out his phone along the way.

Taking that as his cue to leave, Neil gave a curt bow before he headed for the door, anxious to return to Jean. He barely paid any mind to the bodyguard waiting outside the room and basically ran to the elevator (if he had an access card, he’d take the stairs).

Jean was back in their room, and Neil felt a mix of anger and guilt when he saw his roommate hunched over in bed. “ _What now, dammit_?” he asked as he went over to Jean’s side.

“ _A punch, nothing more_ ,” Jean sighed. “ _He didn’t have the time for anything else_.” He forced himself upright when Neil sank down on the bed next to him. “ _Now what did the little prince want_?”

Despite everything, Neil smiled at the nickname for Ichirou. “ _I wonder… he’s definitely preparing for the day when he’s the **real** king_ ,” he mused as he leaned against the wall, the expression strengthening when Jean gave a slight moan and lay down with his head in Neil’s lap. “ _I think he’s trying to get a feel for what’s going on here, on how Tetsuji runs things_ ,” he explained, and then told Jean about his ‘owed debt’.

Jean frowned despite the fact that Neil’s fingers combed through his hair. “ _From what you’ve said, it’s always Ichirou when you go up into the East Tower, never Kengo. It’s Ichirou who’s dealt with you, who talked about your contracts, who’s always here. Even if you’re property, I would have expected Kengo to show his face at least once, to at least ensure that you know your place. Something’s not right_.”

Wonderful, just what they needed, more problems. “ _Of course, because why would things be all right around here_?” Neil asked as he banged his head a couple of times against the wall.

“ _Because you’re the devil_ ,” Jean reminded him with what sounded to be a great deal of satisfaction. “ _Was there anything else_?”

“Uhhmm….” Neil gave his friend a nervous smile when Jean twisted around enough to look up at him. “ _Ichirou asked if he could kiss me and I said ‘yes’? I think you might be right about him being interested in me? Even if it still doesn’t make any sense_.”

Jean stared at him for several seconds before he sighed and closed his eyes. “ _I have had enough today and am going to sleep_.”

“But-“

“ _To sleep_!”

Neil sighed as he shoved the dramatic bastard off of his lap so he could change into a lighter pair of pants, during which Jean grumbled in annoyance and crawled beneath the sheets. He at least held the blankets up for Neil to join him, and for once they got a decent night’s rest.

Which was good, because while Neil might be under Ichirou’s ‘protection’, it didn’t mean that Riko couldn’t be an utter bastard. Friday morning’s practice was one of the most brutal, was Neil and Jean on the opposite team of the prick and Riko determined to slam them into the ground, and an order of perfection expected of them out on the court that night against the Yellow Jackets if they wanted to eat much the next few weeks. Neil imagined that things weren’t going to get any better any time soon, especially if Minyard was smart enough to listen to the warning he’d been given.

The Ravens won against the George Academy Yellow Jackets that night, beat them by nineteen points; Neil and Jean slumped against each other when it was done – Jean from helping Susan and Ben to shut down the goal while he’d been out on the court, Neil from scoring six points himself, helping Riko with his eight, Marley with two and even assisting Tollis with one. They’d been out on the court for most of the game, save for about half of the third quarter, and judging from Riko’s smile just then… well, Neil had a feeling that they’d soon be playing full games just because it was another way for Riko to torment them.

He really, really hated the bastard just then, wished that he could take his racquet and bring it down on Riko’s head again and again. Except that he was too tired to do the amount of damage that Riko deserved for being an utter failure of a human being, so….

“ _You have that devil look in those eyes of yours_ ,” Jean complained as they made their way to the showers. “ _Behave before I drown you_.”

“ _I am too tired for trouble_ ,” Neil insisted. “ _And so are you, so_ blegh.” He stuck his tongue out at the French bastard.

Apparently, Jean _wasn’t_ too tired to drag him into the showers with his uniform still on, but couldn’t hold him beneath the running water long enough to properly drown him.

“I want a new partner,” Neil complained when they were back in their room, him and Jean stretched out on their bed, Marley and Meg on the spare one.

“Good, you and la puce can wreak havoc together,” Jean said with a small yet content smile as he tugged on one of Neil’s damp curls.

“Yes, but that leaves you with Meg, no?” Neil asked while Marley laughed and Meg pretended to be all offended at the question – at least at first.

“Oh, we can do each other’s hair and you can help me with my nails while I tell you about Kenny!” Meg exclaimed with a too-bright smile while Jean actually _cringed_.

“ _No_!”

“Relax, like we do any of that now,” Marley said as she rolled her eyes. “Well, she drives me crazy with all the phone calls, but we don’t have any nails to paint and who cares about our hair when we’re wearing helmets all the time?”

“Hmm, though there’s the winter banquet coming up, I’d like to do something other than a ponytail for that.” Meg frowned as she tugged on the ends of her own damp ponytail.

“Because of _Kenny_ ,” Marley crooned. “Have to look good for your long-distance _boyfriend_!” She laughed when Meg shoved her onto the mattress and tried to put a pillow on her head.

Neil almost made a comment about them behaving like idiots when he caught a wistful smile on Jean’s face as he watched the girls; it had only been once, but Jean had mentioned having a younger sister, back when he’d confessed that he’d been given to the Moriyamas by his own parents in exchange for a debt. It had been more of an ‘it was better that I was picked than her’ type of thing (though Neil could tell that Jean desperately hoped that his sister wasn’t sold off, too), yet it was evident that Jean cared deeply for his sibling.

Perhaps that was why he hadn’t fought too hard against Neil protecting Marley and Meg, why he agreed to help train them and went along with the nightly practices. Perhaps he saw something of his own sister in them, some sort of reminder, and if he couldn’t be there for her, he could for these two young women.

Or maybe Neil was being stupid, like usual.

Marley was able to push Meg off to the side and lay there giggling while Meg hugged the pillow to her chest, and Jean’s expression returned to normal. They spent a little more time talking about the game that evening and which teams they thought would place in the remaining three spots for the district (Breckenridge, Belmonte, and possibly Palmetto State if they were adding up the points right).

“Okay, I’ve got a call to make,” Meg said as she stood up and glanced at her partner. “You gonna hang out here again?”

Marley glanced over at Neil and Jean, who shrugged to show that they didn’t care if she spent the night – it was becoming a common event on the weekends. “Go tell Kenny how much he didn’t suck tonight,” she told her partner. “Unless he failed to score a goal, unlike _some_ of us.”

“Go to hell,” Meg sang out as she waved goodbye, which made Neil smile and Marley clutch at her chest in exaggerated shock.

“I can’t tell if we’re being a good or a bad influence on her,” Marley said as she scooted up to the top of the bed so she could push down the blankets.

“Not good enough if she can’t kick your ass,” Neil decided, and smiled when Marley first threw the pillow at him and then complained when she had to get out of bed to fetch it.

Saturday was another brutal day of practice, was an intense workout in the gym and then Neil and Jean out on the court for all of the skirmishes; Neil was certain that Riko had been told that Ichirou had taken an interest in Neil and so was doing whatever he could to make Neil’s (and Jean’s) life miserable in a way that his older brother couldn’t quite argue with since it technically involved developing Neil’s Exy skills. So what if Neil was completely exhausted and covered with bruises by the end of practice?

Of course Tetsuji let him get away with it, too. Tetsuji Moriyama, supposedly the man in charge of the Ravens, yet he let his own nephew run roughshod over the team and its players, let him act up like a destructive toddler in a toy store.

Who cared if the ‘toys’ he was breaking were actual living beings?

Neil wasn’t in the mood for Minyard’s insults or threats against Jean when it came time to call the asshole that afternoon, wasn’t in the mood for any verbal sparring when he’d spent hours engaged in a different type of warfare. Despite that fact, he got out the phone and curled up against Jean just so it was one less obligation, one more thing done that day so he could then get some sleep, and did his best to pretend that everything was all right.

Except Minyard surprised him by not asking about what Riko was planning and by not pushing despite it being his turn to ask a question, by wanting to know what Neil’s favorite color was instead of… more questions about what was going on at the Nest and things like that. When even Jean had scoffed at Neil’s answer of ‘grey’, Minyard seemed to believe him and hadn’t made any snide remarks for once, and told him to get some rest.

It was odd, considering that Minyard was usually a pain in the ass, but Neil honestly hoped that he was careful over the next week or so, that Ichirou managed to do something about Riko’s… whatever. But in the end, there wasn’t anything Neil could do (wasn’t anything _else_ he could do), so he tucked himself against Jean’s chest for a brief nap, as long as he dared when he still had a couple of assignments due before the holiday break.

Sunday was much the same as Saturday, except that he talked to Uncle Stuart for a few minutes. It seemed that Ichirou had reached out to request the family handle a ‘small’ job for him, a trial run of sorts, though Stuart wouldn’t tell him more than that.

The week leading up to Thanksgiving was so bad that Neil dreaded the short ‘break’ with its sixteen hour days, considering that full days with its brutal practices were bad enough. At least Thursday was a rare partial day off with so many of Ravens gone, basically the only time of the year that it happened.

Neil and Jean showed up at the gym later into ‘morning’ on the second ‘day’ of their holiday break to find Nakamura directing the remaining Ravens (mostly upperclassmen) through their workouts of the day – Tetsuji and Riko weren’t present. Nor were they present for the scaled down skirmishes later.

Tetsuji was there for the next ‘day’, when Marley and more Ravens returned, but they didn’t have to deal with Riko until the break was almost over, in a sullen mood which made everyone stay well out of his reach. A little thrown off by the accelerated schedule, Neil almost couldn’t manage a call with Minyard and had to give up on a bit of sleep to make it, a fact that Jean complained loudly about in French and English.

Neil didn’t want to admit that he was anxious to find out if Minyard was all right, if Riko was upset because his plan had worked or not. “Don’t you want to know if Day is coming back here or not?” he asked Jean as he dialed one of the two numbers saved in the phone.

Minyard’s voice sounded a little rough when he responded, and Neil was furious when he heard that the asshole had been hurt – at least until he realized that Minyard had tried to avoid whatever it was that Riko had set up. That was the only reason he decided to give the asshole the information, that and he didn’t see much of a reason to keep it a secret anymore.

He also didn’t see much of a point of keeping the fact that Ichirou might have stepped in from Minyard, as long as he didn’t mention his ‘lord’s name or go into any detail – that might explain where Tetsuji and Riko had been, and Riko’s continuing absence. Still. Jean was upset over even that veiled reference and Minyard’s insistence on information, enough to end the call and power down the phone.

“ _Do not put yourself in danger over this ingrate_ ,” he told Neil as he threw the phone aside. “ _He’s like Kevin, he’ll just continue to take and expect it as his due_.”

Neil wasn’t certain that he believed such a thing about Minyard – he wasn’t entirely sure _what_ he believed about Minyard, but it wasn’t _that_. All he knew for sure was that Minyard was resolved to protect Day for one reason or another, to go to great lengths for whatever promise he’d made to the striker. And perhaps he wasn’t as much of an asshole as upon first impression. Still….

“ _I won’t_ ,” he assured Jean. “ _I won’t let Riko win, but I won’t risk you or the girls, either_.”

Some of Jean’s anger seemed to fade as his calloused right hand cupped the side of Neil’s face, the gesture gentle. “ _Don’t risk yourself, either, you foolish devil_.”

When Neil was quiet at that, Jean sighed and got up to put away the phone. “Enough of this for now, time to sleep.”

“Yeah.” Still, Neil smiled at him and hugged Jean’s arm to his chest once they were stretched out in their bed, grateful to have one person who looked out for him.

*******

Morning practice after the Thanksgiving break was even more annoying than usual due to everyone gawking at Andrew and Kevin - by then the bruises and scrapes had darkened and scabbed over to great effect and even begun to fade a little, and of course Wymack had to inform the Foxes that Kevin couldn't play in Friday's game.

"There was an incident at Abby's house on Thursday," he told them when they gathered at the gym. "Some lunatic attacked Kevin and Andrew in the backyard and I knocked him out, the police came and took him away and that's that. Kevin got a concussion so he's out for Friday, but we're playing Georgia Academy so we'll be fine." He gave everyone a stern look before he clapped his hands. "Focus on winning, got it?"

"Was it some Raven fa-"

"No more questions," Wymack said in a loud voice, cutting off Gordon. "I spent all damn day yesterday talking to the Board about this, everything's finally settled so get your lazy asses moving!"

Andrew heard Nicky whispering to Reynolds about Drake's suicide and stalked away, unwilling to put up with either his teammates or the situation any longer. It was over, Drake was dead, and if Josten was to be believed, Riko's fangs were pulled for the moment.

Renee caught up with him at afternoon practice, when they were running laps. "Are you all right?" she asked, her voice quiet but gaze intent.

"Just _peachy_ ," he told her with a wide grin as he thought about a certain little birdy. "No Exy at all this weekend, how could things be any better?"

She sighed at that and shook her head. "I meant... is there anything you want to tell me?"

"Do a decent job on the court this Friday, I don't want to work too hard." As expected, Wymack had told them earlier that Renee would be shifted to the dealer's position to assist Reynolds while Wilds helped out Gordon and Yee as a striker - all together on the merry-go-round, children, except for Andrew who was stuck in the goal for the game.

Renee shook her head again, clearly unhappy over his deflection but not about to call him out on it; she clearly suspected that Drake wasn't some random attacker or a crazed Raven fan, that there'd been a reason he'd gone after Kevin and Andrew (after _Andrew_ ) and wanted more answers, like Aaron – and wasn’t getting any, like Aaron. She most likely doubted Wymack’s easily wrapped up story because Andrew hadn't been the one to knock Drake out, because Wymack had to step in... but if Andrew wasn't willing to say anything then she wouldn't push.

Ah, such a _good_ Christian girl.

Of course _Bee_ brought it up on the Wednesday session, since she _wasn't_ a good Christian girl (woman). "Have you thought any more about some extra sessions?"

"Why?" Andrew gave her a blank look as he sipped his hot chocolate.

"Because you suffered a trauma even if you refuse to acknowledge it, even if it might not be a major one - or seem like it at the moment." Bee frowned as she tapped her fingers against the rim of her own mug. "You were confronted with your abuser again, were harmed by him again, and-"

"And now he's dead," Andrew said, his tone flat as he imagined Drake's body in the morgue. He didn't know if Cass or Richard had come out for it yet or not, if the police had released it back to California. He'd blocked their numbers on his phone years ago (in case they managed to track him down) and there was no way they could get into Fox Tower, one of the reasons he'd stayed inside of it all weekend.

"And do you feel anything about that?"

Andrew grinned over the rim of his mug. "What do you think?"

Bee didn't react to the expression. "Why do you think I'm asking you the question?"

"Oh Bee, because you're ever so much fun!" Andrew sighed when she continued to gaze at him in that even, _boring_ manner. "Furious that I wasn't the one to kill him.” At her frown, he rolled his eyes. “Wasn’t why he _died_ ,” he amended, because no one else questioned why Drake had ‘killed’ himself, oh no. How _convenient_ for the Moriyamas, yes? “Part of me doesn't believe it still, while another part is gloating." The smug bastard who'd destroyed so much of Andrew was finally dead, was never going to touch another person again.

Yet another part of Andrew was relieved over the fact that with the bastard dead, no one else would know about what had happened in Cass' house, would know what had-

"I don't want to talk about this," he told Bee as his smile slipped. "There's no point to it anymore. And I've taken worse hits during a game."

"I can't force you to talk about anything, Andrew, and you're an intelligent young man more than capable of deciding what's best for you. I just want you to know that I'm here for you, that others are here for you, too, and we're willing to help with whatever you need." Bee ignored Andrew's faint scoff other than to give him a faint smile. "You've made a lot of progress over the last year or two and I believe you'll be in a good place come early summer when it's time to take you off of the meds. I don't want to see anything jeopardize that." She hesitated for a moment as if considering something. "If you feel this weekend was difficult for you, that dealing with Drake was too much or brought up too many unresolved issues, your mental health comes first and foremost. There's a very good instit-"

" _No_ ," Andrew told her, having a feeling where she was going with things and refusing to listen to any more; she was trying to look out for him, but him leaving Kevin’s side meant that Riko would win out in the end. "I'm fine," he told her in as even a tone as he could manage. "Was it fun, seeing that bastard again? No. Is everything all better now that he's dead? No. But I'm not letting him destroy me now, just like I refused to do it back then. So shut up about it and move on." It was rare that he was that rude with Bee, at least after the first few months of their sessions, but he wasn't going to sit there and let her continue to pick at this.

Bee sighed into her mug before she chuckled a little and had a few sips. "Okay, I understand. We've both said our piece. Now, how are things with your brother and cousin? The last we spoke, they were a little strained, yes?"

It was a long hour that day.

At least the game with the Yellow Jackets on Friday wasn't as bad as it could be - the team knew that they were finishing near the bottom of the district and nothing could change that fact. Their match against the Ravens the previous week seemed to have broken their spirit, as they didn't put up much of a fight, even with a glowering Kevin sitting on the bench that night. Still, Gordon kept the squabbling with Yee, Nicky and Wilds to a minimum for once, especially since Reynolds was on the court for a good bit of the game, and the Foxes managed a decent point spread between that and Andrew shutting down the goal. As soon as he recovered enough from the whole ridiculous endeavor, he and the others were in the GS and on the road to Columbia.

It was just drinks and dust that night at Eden's, Andrew unwilling to allow anyone too close, let alone Roland. He minded how much he drank, too, just enough to take the edge off, to loosen the tension in his neck and grant a little peace but not enough to dull his senses or make him unaware of what was happening around him or the others. He didn't entirely relax until back at the house with the doors locked and everything quiet save for the familiar creaks and rattles, the sounds of Aaron and Nicky and Kevin settling in for the night.

There shouldn't be a spark of anticipation as he sat on the back porch yet again, bundled up against the cold in a thick sweater and his winter coat, and waited for Josten's call. It came a couple of minutes late, and the little bird sounded tired. "Still there, Minyard?"

"Imagine that," Andrew said before he slurped his coffee. "Guess you're the lucky one, you can't get rid of me."

That earned him a tired but genuine laugh. "We'll agree to disagree." Josten hummed a little for a moment while Moreau complained. "Congratulations on not totally failing this season, as if you cared."

"I don't. Congratulations on being a big bully and beating up a bunch of losers."

Josten hummed a little more while Moreau scoffed. "A win's a win, I'd think you'd know that by now. Do you think any of those other teams would care if they were in our place? All that matters is the final outcome." Josten seemed a bit bitter about that fact.

Andrew paused to light a cigarette as he considered that statement. "You sound rather blasé for a winner. Something wrong, little bird?"

"Just... just tired," Josten admitted, and Andrew believed him for once, considering how quiet and exhausted he sounded. "It must be nice, being a loser. Bet you get to sleep in now and everything," Josten said with evident longing.

One had to wonder what Tetsuji was doing - or not doing. "Maybe if you're a good boy at the banquet this time around and don't try to castrate me, I'll swap you out with Yee so you can have a nice vacation."

Moreau started cursing while Josten laughed again. "What, you want to take away my fun?" he asked in a mocking, lilting voice that made Andrew shiver, of all things. "Ruin my plans and everything? What'll we do then, make hand puppets out of napkins and insult each other's outfits? Well, make fun of _yours_ , Mr. Gothy."

"So amusing." Andrew blew out a thin stream of smoke as he struggled between annoyance and a small amount of actual amusement at how quick a little birdy could be with his jabs. "How about I just smack you each time you call me that? Especially since _you’re_ the one always dressed in black.”

“Because… well, it’s a uniform. What’s your excuse?”

“It’s slimming,” Andrew said, his voice pitched low as if he was confiding in the idiot and tone utterly flat.

He shouldn’t feel like that when Josten laughed - the sounds short but bright – as if he was holding hot, minty air inside of his chest which both warmed him up and made him tingle at the same time. It should be disconcerting… but he found himself craving more of it, just like he did nicotine.

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s it,” Josten drawled. “As much as I’m dying to find out what your next revelation will be, maybe some amazing make-up tips, we need to get some rest tonight. Next week, okay?”

“Right, little birdies need their rest.”

“So do assholes,” Josten shot back, but it didn’t possess any venom so Andrew merely grunted as the call was ended.

He also realized that neither of them had asked a truth that time, which made his chest grow warm and tingly again for some damn reason (at the thought that Josten had simply _talked_ to him).

He sat on the deck and smoked another cigarette while he thought about two more weeks until the banquet, until he saw Josten again. Until he saw Riko in person, the prick, and dealt with whatever shit the psycho tried to pull in his pathetic attempts to get Kevin to change his mind.

The next two weeks were mostly free of Exy as everyone (almost everyone) had to study for finals. Andrew was given a break from Aaron’s overbearing attention, his brother obviously doubting the whole ‘old foster brother just decided to show up and attack out of nowhere’ story. Oh, how sad, such brotherly devotion derailed by the need to pass a physiology class and a study group which contained a certain Vixen cheerleader meeting at the library….

Between that and Kevin muttering various dates and names as he shuffled through his note cards and Nicky shooting off prayers in Spanish as he dashed off to various study groups of his own, Andrew spent as much time as possible up on the roof despite the cold, and refused to admit that Saturday was the best day out of it all when a much more energetic Josten found out about his major (that was his question) and laughed for about half a minute.

“I’m about to hang up,” Andrew warned, even if it wasn’t entirely true.

“No, no, don’t!” Josten hiccupped as if trying to stop laughing while Moreau murmured something to him. “It’s just… what, you’re studying the system’s loopholes or something, aren’t you? The best way to break a thing is to know how it’s put together, right?”

“I think that question speaks volume about _you_ , little bird,” Andrew remarked even as he found the left corner of his mouth twitching for some insane reason.

“Yeah, well, career criminals on both sides of the family, and that’s putting it nicely,” Josten said, some of the amusement gone from his voice yet he didn’t sound full of pity or anything. “ _I_ think it’s a bit much to expect a white picket fence or… well, whatever normal people do from me.” That prompted another soft murmur from Moreau.

Andrew was quiet as he stared across the campus, as he allowed the faint trill of fear ground him as always. “That makes two of us.”

It was quiet after that, until Moreau said something, his tone sarcastic – Andrew thought he picked out ‘diable’, which he’d heard before and seen on a couple of Instagram posts – which for some reason made Josten laugh, the sound soft but pleased. Instead of the usual warm, tingly sensation, something bitter and harsh filled Andrew upon hearing it, especially when Josten answered back in French.

“Something amusing?”

“No more than usual,” Josten said, his tone light once again. “Rumor has it that the Foxes made the top four. I’d congratulate you, but I’m sure you’re unhappy about having to do some work next semester.”

Ah, the little birdy was deflecting. “So much for switching you out for Yee.”

“I know, looks like I get to castrate you after all, so yay for me,” Josten said, his voice syrupy-sweet while Moreau sniggered in the background.

Andrew hung up on him.

Threats against his ‘manhood’ aside, he still spent about half an hour flipping through Instagram looking at the pictures uploaded in the past day or so; unlike a week or so ago, Josten and Moreau looked less washed out and exhausted. The dark shadows beneath their pale eyes were gone and their expressions were a bit more animated (such as they ever were, unless they were alone with Patel and Curtis). He also noticed that a few more Ravens were appearing in their photos or were mentioned in the tags – Ivanova13, McPherson16, Chen18, Anders23 and Hebig22. Had someone decided to become social, or was it more a political motivation? Those were names which Andrew saw in poetic Patel’s posts an awful lot, perhaps Josten finally realized that the more ‘friends’ he had around him, the more insulation he had from Riko.

Maybe. Did anything protect one from a psychopath?

It was wretched, how he could gain some sort of twisted satisfaction from looking at pictures of a fucked up little birdy with a pretty face and fractured soul, someone who would forever be out of reach because they were a _belonging_. Josten was hundreds of miles away at Edgar Allan, was in Moriyama hands and would never be able to do whatever he wanted because of that damn number tattooed on his cheek, because some sick fuck of a father had decided to barter away his own flesh, and… and Andrew didn’t care.

This was just a side effect of Drake and Cass and his own fucked up past, dammit.

Renee frowned at him after their practice on Sunday. “Is… really, is everything all right?”

“I’m annoyed by that question,” he told her as he dabbed at his swollen upper lip; she’d managed a nice punch to his mouth before she’d disarmed him. “I’m all right.”

“It’s just… you seem a bit distracted lately, between Thanksgiving and everything else. Is there anything I can help you with?”

Ah, there it was, earnest Renee. “What if I told you that Riko had tried to take me out of the picture and I wanted help returning the favor, hmm?” he asked with a grin despite the pain it caused, just to see what she’d do.

She backed away to go sit down where they’d stashed their jackets and bottles of water, the knives sheathed (for now). “How are you sure he was behind it?” she asked, always the clever one.

He held a forefinger up to his swelling lips. “Shh, don’t ask questions I won’t answer.”

Renee cocked her head at that, rainbow-tipped strands escaping from the headband she’d slipped on to hold it back during the fight. “’Won’t’ in that you can’t, or ‘won’t’ in that you’re unwilling to lie to me?”

All he did was grin at her.

Her demeanor turned serious at that. “I’ll support you however I can, but I won’t start a fight – at least not yet.”

“Such a good Christian girl, all nice with your fangs pulled and claws clipped,” Andrew taunted. “For now, just be aware that there might be more dirty bird shenanigans at the winter banquet. Watch over your own and I’ll watch over mine.”

“That I can do.” She seemed thoughtful as she sipped her water. “What about Neil and the girls? Meg’s been very worried about him and Jean lately, something about them working too hard at practice, while Marley’s grown more wary of us if anything.” Renee’s expression darkened for a moment. “I’d worry about _her_ , except she’s very protective about Neil. She’s not a typical Raven… yet.”

Andrew had to wonder how much behind Josten’s ‘fines’ and deflections were because of the girls, were him keeping Patel and Curtis safe. Someone was a fool martyr, weren’t they?  “Soon enough she’ll be as much of an asshole as Kevin.”

“Maybe,” Renee said, but she didn’t look as she believed it. No, she appeared to know that Andrew was trying to distract her from the truth.

Saturday came soon enough, after an end of the semester party (one for the ‘monsters’ and another for the rest of the Foxes) and off they went to Breckenridge for the banquet – Nicky with another ‘date’ from his media class, and Aaron with the same Vixen again. Did he think that Andrew couldn’t keep track of the cheerleaders or something, that they all looked the same? Granted, they _were_ rather similar, but Andrew wasn’t dear Tilda and had more than enough brain cells left to tell one pompom waving whore from another.

Reynolds was paired off with a quiet Renee, which only seemed to enrage Gordon (who was barely passing his classes that semester and spent most of the bus ride to the banquet yelling at some poor airline employee about a suddenly overbooked flight home for the holiday). Andrew sat at the back of the bus with a mostly unconscious Kevin sleeping off a hangover in front of him, and about an hour out from Breckenridge looked up from his phone (there was another picture of Josten asleep on Moreau, then a few of him with poetic Patel and other Ravens at various airports) to find Renee standing in the aisle and smiling at him. “Yes?”

She nodded to the edge of the seat. “May I?”

He shrugged to show that he didn’t care, so she sat down with plenty of space left between them. “I received an interesting text a short while ago.” She held up her phone to show him – it was from poetic Patel. ‘Tell the stunted monkey-fucker to behave himself tonight, don’t upset any little birdies’.

Now what were the chances of poetic Patel using a phrase like ‘little birdies’ in a message to Renee? “How often does she talk about me?”

“Almost never,” Renee told him as she lowered her phone. “Which is why I thought you should see it.” She cocked her head to the side and smiled; for the banquet, some of her hair was pulled back from her face and she wore a touch of make-up, just a little lip gloss, eyeliner and mascara, but it was more effort than she usually put into her appearance. Oh, was someone trying to make a good impression that night or what? “I take it that it’s more than it first appears?”

“Remember what I said about watching out for you and yours,” Andrew said before he returned to his own phone.

Renee nodded once as she got up and went back to the front of the bus.

Josten probably couldn’t do much if he was traveling with other Ravens – if Riko was nearby - so he’d used Patel to send a message instead, the clever little bird. Andrew took it to mean that Riko would do his best to antagonize him into over-reacting (because Riko was such a cheerful soul, yes?) when surrounded by the ERC and hundreds of witnesses.

And Josten had the gall to suggest that _Andrew_ had looked up how to be a ‘bad-ass wannabe’? It seemed to him that Riko was checking all the boxes on how to be a stereotypical villain and still coming up an utter failure, what a surprise.

What wasn’t a surprise was Kevin freaking out as they neared Breckenridge, much like he’d done back at Blackwell, waking up the last hour or so and growing tense as the final miles ticked off. He actually flinched when they pulled into the parking lot and spotted the black buses which the Ravens must have sent down to use to shuttle them back and forth between Breckenridge and whatever hotel they were staying at for the weekend.

Wymack told the coward to stick close to Andrew during the night and then gave Andrew a level look. “No shit tonight, okay? I don’t know what’s going on with you and Josten, but play nice, do you understand?”

Andrew gave him a wide grin in return. “Cross my heart and hope you die, Coach, I’ll only do unto him what he does unto me.” Now didn’t _that_ have some interesting possibilities?

Wymack gazed at him for a couple of seconds before closing his eyes, his expression one of pain. “I need a damn drink.”

“Me, too,” Kevin mumbled in agreement.

“Get your lazy asses off of the bus! Now!”

No, Andrew wasn’t eager for a two-week break from this shit, not at all.

Breckenridge’s court had a Christmas theme going on, how original. For a moment Andrew’s mania-fueled mind spared a thought about what would happen if PSU ever hosted the winter banquet, how the Foxhole Court would appear with all the white and orange and red and green, and sincerely hoped that he’d either be graduated or in a coma by then. He might have to make that whole ‘blind’ thing happen if it was a case of neither.

At least someone had the good sense (or hadn’t been paid) to make sure that the Foxes and the Ravens weren’t at the same tables that time, even if Andrew had looked forward to Josten tearing into Gordon during dinner. No, the Foxes got to spend time with the Wilkes-Meyer Hornets, who didn’t have a weird synchronized sitting thing going on (in their favor) and lacked a sharp-tongued pretty striker (not in their favor). Andrew sat between Kevin and Nicky (for some reason Aaron didn’t want to sit by him with his little Vixen so close) and gave the burly backliner across from him a flat look until the guy began to sweat and looked away.

It was ever so boring as they waited for the last two teams to arrive, at which point the cheerful as always Tetsuji got up on stage, appearing as if he was about to say a prayer at a funeral between his black outfit and grim demeanor, and began to just rattle off the season’s rankings without a simple ‘welcome, nice to see you’. While Andrew could appreciate the brevity, a few coaches and officials appeared annoyed.

Much like Josten had said on their last phone call, the Foxes had made it to the spring championship – the Ravens were in first place, which surprised no one, followed by Breckenridge, Belmonte and then the Foxes.

While the Hornets congratulated the Foxes, Andrew mulled over the fact that they would have to face Breckenridge again for the three semi-final games, which would be a challenge. They could afford to lose one of the games, but that was all – last year they’d lost two and been wiped out of the championship games before the death-match games. For him to keep his promise to Kevin, they would have to advance past the first round at least, would have to prove to Riko and Tetsuji (prove to _Kevin_ ) that the Foxes were improving with each season and weren’t a hopeless case. That Kevin hadn’t gambled everything on nothing when he could have bent his neck and gone back to Edgar Allan to accept his place as an assistant coach, as a lesser person always in Riko’s shadow.

Glancing to his side, he could see the doubt in Kevin’s green eyes, but Kevin’s back was straight as he told the Hornets that the Foxes would prevail, that they wouldn’t be the underdogs to bet against in the spring. Maybe they wouldn’t go all the way, but they wouldn’t wash out so early, just watch.

It wasn’t as if Andrew wouldn’t enjoy proving Riko wrong after Thanksgiving.

The rest of the Foxes talked about what teams they might play once they got past the first round while they ate, which made the Hornets stare at them in disbelief, and all the while Kevin’s confidence seemed to grow due to the support. All Andrew cared about was the lack of a panic attack and the fact that he got to eat, and focused his attention on the table toward the middle of the court.

Once again the Ravens had dressed up in matching outfits, all black save for the red ties that the men wore and red necklaces for the women. Josten was seated to the left of Riko, with Moreau between them, and seemed to be ignoring the people seated in front of him while speaking to Patel and his partner.

As soon as the meal was finished, the caterers cleared the tables so they could be broken down and removed, and the court was set up for dancing and stupid games. There were punch bowls and small areas set up for mingling, but it seemed like most of the players wanted to dance and have fun – including the Foxes. Andrew watched his brother rush out onto the dance floor with Nicky and their ‘dates’ (oh, it did indeed appear as if someone was forgetting _their_ promise, how sad), as Wilds and Boyd left holding hands, as Reynolds dragged a not quite protesting Renee off while holding hands, too. That made Gordon glare and swear beneath his breath and storm off in another direction, while Yee glanced around before heading off in the direction of a large group of black-clad birdies (someone had yet to realize that he was reaching for something way out of his league).

That left Kevin and Andrew alone, which was fine with Andrew. Unlike last time, Kevin didn’t try to socialize, but then again, he didn’t have how many shots of vodka in him, either. Instead, they found a punch bowl (un-spiked, unfortunately) and hovered around it while a bunch of university athletes acted like idiots all around them.

Of course it didn’t take long for Riko to track them down; Andrew caught sight of him first – caught sight of Josten’s bright hair beneath the flashing lights, and wasn’t surprised when the little birdy and Valjean came straight to him in a clear attempt at a distraction which left Kevin open.

“Don’t,” Andrew warned as he shoved away from the wall; whatever he had with Josten didn’t intrude on his deal with Kevin.

“ _No, don’t interfere_ ,” Josten called out, and the fact that it was in _German_ of all things gave Andrew pause. Oh ho, the little bird just had to keep being so _damn interesting_ , didn’t he? Josten’s expression was that awful malicious smile but his eyes were shadowed, as if he knew he was crossing a line just then, one he didn’t _want_ to cross. “ _You need to allow this to happen, **please**_.” It sounded as if that last word had cost him.

Andrew bared his teeth at Josten in a mockery of a smile. “ _Never say that word again, I hate it_.”

“ _What, pl- okay, just listen to me_.” By that point, Moreau was blocking the two of them from Riko’s sight, something Andrew was willing to bet was deliberate. “ _There’s not much he can do right now, he’s… well, too much happened last month_ ,” Josten said, dancing around the truth that Andrew wanted as always. “ _And your coach’s going to get a text any second now to break this up, so let it go.  Let it seem like we’re doing what we’ve been told, when he’s just going to fail again, p- all right_?”

Andrew considered that, considered how Josten hadn’t pulled a knife on him yet, had revealed knowing German to him, something he could have used against Andrew for a while longer. “ _What’s he doing right now_?”

Josten leaned in closer, the motion threatening but he kept his hands away from Andrew. “ _Trying to force Kevin to come back, as always, but he doesn’t have anything to use against him, not now. He’s telling him if he returns before the end of the year, he’ll be back on the team, he’ll be number ‘2’ again_.”

Andrew leaned closer, too, and told himself that it was just the drugs affecting him when he wanted to shiver at the feel of Josten’s body heat, at the scent of clean skin and soap, at the sight of those pale blue eyes with flecks of grey and the hint of freckles along those sharp cheekbones. “ _And what about you?_ ”

For some reason Josten shivered, too. “ _Ah, what does it matter_? _Why would Day care about me_?”

So true, and of course Riko would expect Josten to follow his orders even if it meant that Josten would be replaced in the end. Yet Andrew didn’t think that was why Josten was doing what he could to keep Kevin at PSU, not when he could see the circles beneath Josten’s eyes, could tell that Josten’s cheekbones were indeed sharper than the last time they’d met in person.

Moreau said something in French and stepped nearer to them, his expression displeased and gaze locked on to Andrew, his posture protective as he hovered behind Josten’s back. Whatever he said made Josten stiffen and shake his head. “ _Your coach will be here any moment now. Do something_.”

Andrew narrowed his eyes at that. “ _Such as? You said to behave myself_.”

That earned him a weary sigh. “ _You’re supposed to be bright, think of something other than pulling a damn knife for once_ _but make it look good_.”

He glanced over to find Kevin hunched over and shaking his head, but not in full-panic mode just then. Then he glanced back and found Josten braced as if for a hit or something equally unpleasant, so Andrew ‘improvised’ – he grabbed Moreau by the stupid red tie and shoved him face first into the wall behind them.

That made Josten curse him out in German and French while he went rushing after his partner (the intended effect), which got both of the birdies out of the way while he charged toward Riko, all the while Wymack’s dulcet tones were bellowing in the near distance.

“Get away from him,” he told Riko with a wide grin on his face as he came over to Kevin’s side.

“Go away,” Riko spat, his expression sour, much like a child whose fun had been ended by a strict parent. “This doesn’t concern you.”

“Oh, considering the threats I just put up with, I’d say it does.” For once, Andrew was willing to stretch the truth a little to clear out an owed debt. “So fuck off, you’re not wanted here.” Kevin seemed to shake off his paralysis and straightened up with having Andrew at his side.

Riko sneered at him while a wary Josten and a glowering Moreau with a swollen nose approached from the left side. “No, I think mutts with questionable pasts are unwanted, yes? Go away, Doe,” the prick told him with a plastic smile. “Go play with your _family_. You’re so _close_ with them, after all.”

Andrew’s smile grew wider while Josten gave a slight shake of his head. “At least my family acknowledges me. Have any family plans with your _daddy_?” he taunted Riko, which made Kevin pale and shake his head, too, while Moreau groaned and Josten cursed in German and French. “That would be a ‘no’, right? He’s too busy with your big brother, not-“

He didn’t even get to finish the statement before Riko took a swing at him, one which Andrew managed to duck before returning it with a solid punch to the prick’s stomach, which of course was right when Wymack arrived and started yelling about stupid bastards and grabbed onto him to haul him away from a furiously cursing Riko. Andrew swung at the man to make him let go, which Wymack didn’t do until there was enough space between him and Riko, whom other coaches had dragged aside – he noticed that Josten and Moreau didn’t try to restrain their captain.

Tetsuji was quick to arrive while the Breckenridge coach starting yelling about what the hell was happening; Wymack defended Andrew, although Josten and Moreau wouldn’t support him over Riko throwing the first punch. Andrew couldn’t blame them, not when they had to live with the prick, had to go back to the Nest and face the consequences, so it was decided that the Ravens would take the Away side of the court and the Foxes the Home side, and stay the fuck away from each other for the rest of the night.

Since that meant that Riko couldn’t have another go at Kevin before the Foxes left the banquet, Andrew was more than fine with that arrangement. Of course it meant that Yee was sulking because he could no longer spend time with Curtis, and Andrew had to deal with Gordon, Boyd and Nicky alternating between crowing and sulking over the fact that he’d punched Riko.

“Aw man, I wish I’d seen that! Think anyone might have filmed it?” Boyd asked while Wymack glared at him.

“That’s my cousin!” Nicky grinned at Andrew and held out his arms as if to give him a hug, and got a hand shoved in his face when he stepped close. “Really? Can’t I show you some love?”

“Only if you want to lose a few internal organs,” Andrew promised. He turned his back on the morons to look Kevin over. “What did he say?”

Kevin didn’t need to know who ‘he’ was. “That I was only setting up the Foxes to be embarrassed in the spring, that they’d crash and burn in the first round again.” At first Kevin was despondent, and then the anger began to surface as he clenched his hands. “He told me that he’d _allow_ me back onto the court if I returned over winter break. That the team would deal with my weakness, that it would be all right. It was more important to show unity than anything else.”

“What a fucking asshole,” Wilds swore while around them, the Foxes stared at Kevin with a mix of anger and indignation. “There’s no ‘weakness’, no ‘unity’ there. He’s just trying to save face, that damn asshole. He’s terrified of facing us in the future, plain and simple!”

“Exactly, he knows that the Ravens’ days are numbered and is scrambling to gain control,” Wymack agreed. “Don’t let him mess with you, son.” He patted Kevin on the shoulder and smiled when Kevin looked up at him with a determined expression. “Now, who wants to get the fuck out of here?”

Andrew did, but he didn’t need to say anything when most of the Foxes were quick to answer ‘yes’, including Kevin. Yee didn’t appear happy about it, but then he had probably hoped to say ‘goodbye’ to Curtis somehow.

Wymack left to talk to someone while Abby led them back to the one locker room to change out of their clothes, during which Andrew tried to catch a glimpse of Josten without much luck. Soon enough they were back in their less formal attire and on the bus.

He pulled out his phone and found that a couple of pictures had been posted from the banquet, of Josten in his black clothes and red hair slicked back from his face. Andrew stared at them for a couple of seconds, at the almost forlorn expression on his little birdy’s face, and thought of Josten leaning close and speaking German, of that flash of understanding when he’d told him not to say ‘please’.

In a few more months Bee would help Andrew transition off of the meds, and he was sure that all of these useless, stupid feelings would go away then. The increasing need to protect Josten, to somehow keep him safe when that was impossible, was a suicidal impulse at best. The ever growing infatuation with him, the twisting, frustrating sense of want which was so damn hopeless because Josten was… he wasn’t _real_. Not really. He seemed to change on Andrew every few weeks, to reveal a new facet that only made the damn fascination stronger, to make him even more interesting, and how realistic was that? It was all in Andrew’s head in the end. Was him building Josten up into some insane pipe dream because he knew he’d never get his hands on the little bird in the end. No, Josten would just fly away, fly too high for someone like Andrew to ever catch.

‘Little bird’ was a good nickname for Josten – him with his bright, attractive plumage and alluring songs, something to dazzle the eyes and lull the mind of the witless soul. A beautiful lure one might follow over a cliff, desperate to capture the rare creature in their net only to plunge to one’s death while the creature flew on. Or something one fixated upon while it sang, its melody intoxicating and plumage distracting, its gilded cage much too high and forever out of reach.

Andrew should heed those warnings, should know better by now, but all he could think of at the moment was Neil Josten hindered in a cage, a cage to which Riko Moriyama held the keys.

*******

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *******  
> Yep, there we go. I hope it makes sense that Andrew wasn't sent off to Easthaven here - while Drake did show up, Wymack stopped things before they progressed in the books so the trauma (winces) wasn't 'bad' enough that Betsy intervened and felt he needed the weeks there. She did try to offer it to him at one point, but she left the choice to Andrew, who refused it (he wasn't going to let Riko 'win'/get his way, and he knows at that point that he's the main thing keeping Kevin at PSU. There's no Neil this time around to help him out/act as another ballast to keep Kevin steady). Andrew is still on track to be taken off the meds in the late spring once classes are finished.
> 
> And a little clarity on Ichirou? He's interested in Neil, oh yes, but he wants Neil to be interested back in him (or at least say 'yes'). Not quite Jain, but I wouldn't say that he's looking for his true love. More of this will play out.
> 
> Uhm... was there more? Once again, I hate trying to keep the darn teams straight. It's going to be such a nightmare dealing with the championship season. GAH!!!!
> 
> Next two weeks are busy for me (and then I should have more writing time), so I'll be posting the 30+ page Raven fic one Sunday and then a dragon!Andrew fic another, unless by some chance I'm wrong and I have more writing time than I thought.
> 
> As always, the comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!


	10. Fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, and we're back to posting for this fic! Sorry for the wait, but should be a few chapters of this in the upcoming weeks.
> 
> Hmm, don't think there's any warnings for once? Nothing too terrible or that hasn't gone on in the last chapter or two. Though we've hit the last book of the AFTG series, so... yeah, some plot points from there.
> 
> As always, so much thanks to Fall for the Game for betaing the fic!  
> *******

 *******

Winter break was just as exhausting as summer had been, thanks to the sixteen hour daily schedule – what should have been two weeks felt more like three and there were no classes to break anything up. It was an endless grind of skirmishes and workouts and drills, of getting up and going out onto the court, of doing one’s best ‘day’ after ‘day’, of pushing past the exhaustion and the pain and the urge to shove one’s racquet down certain players’ throats….

Maybe it was just Neil who felt that latter part, as Federov slammed him into the wall yet again and held him there a couple of seconds too long while breathing against his neck, until Neil managed to push the panic aside and knee the bastard in his (unfortunately) protected groin. Still, it made the backliner retreat enough that Neil could slip away and get back into the game, and if he took a bit of delight in tripping the prick a few minutes later? So much the better.

Tetsuji pushed them even harder than he had over the summer, was quicker to ‘correct’ mistakes. All eyes would be on the Ravens come January, would watch them to see if they could continue their string of championship wins without Kevin Day on the team – with Day as an opponent. The Lions and the Trojans were aching to snatch away the NCAA Division I title from them, to break their winning streak, something which Tetsuji and Riko refused to allow happen.

Something which all the Ravens refused to allow happen, Neil included.

He may detest the circumstances which had brought him to the team, which kept him as a prisoner at the Nest and a literal slave to the Moriyamas, but he’d put his all into the Ravens and Exy. He felt the most alive when he was out on the court, when he stepped out onto Castle Evermore and the polished wood floor which he knew every inch of by that point, the floor and the walls, the seats and the ceilings, its scent and sounds. He could run the length of it blindfolded by that point and know where to stop for the door and the inner and outer rings, could point out the four towers and benches and each of its sections without any thought. Evermore had become a part of him, and he refused to let anything sully its reputation.

Judging from the way that Marley and Meg forced themselves out onto the court each day despite their growing exhaustion, he’d say that they felt much the same. As for Jean… his partner shook his head at their determination. “ _There’s no reward for the most stubborn fool, you know_ ,” he remarked as Marley and Meg argued over how many weights they should put on the leg machine while Neil and Jean did their cardio.

“ _Somehow that feels like a personal attack_ ,” Neil mused.

“ _Perhaps because I mentioned the word ‘fool’?_ ” Jean shook his head when Akagi came over to settle the matter of the weights and told the girls to hurry up and start exercising. “ _The next semester will be busy enough because of the games without you exhausting yourself now_.”

“ _I didn’t realize I had much of a choice in things_ ,” Neil pointed out. “ _What, I can go back to our room and sleep? How wonderful_.”

Jean gave him a sour look at that before reaching over to speed up his treadmill, to which Neil merely smiled and ran faster.

It was difficult to keep track of time because of the messed up schedule, but Neil did (barely) so he could continue his calls with Minyard. The first one was before Christmas (not that they were celebrating the holiday in the Nest), and as soon as Minyard answered the phone, Neil tore into him for what had happened at the banquet. “Don’t _ever_ touch Jean again, you asshole.”

“Merry Christmas to you, too, little birdy,” Minyard laughed. “And you told me to be inventive, remember? Were there any complaints from a certain psycho we both loathe?”

Neil sighed as he toyed with his bangs and glanced over at his partner; Jean’s face still bore some slight bruising from being shoved face-first into a wall (that and their daily practice), but at least Riko hadn’t beaten him up for what had happened at Breckenridge. “Not that,” he admitted.

Andrew Minyard was quiet for a few seconds. “Which implies that Riko has something to complain about, yes?”

That question made Neil shift about on the bed and Jean stiffen beside him. “ _Why does he care_?” Jean asked while Neil wondered the same thing.

“So are you having a-“

“You didn’t answer my question,” Minyard said in a quiet yet determined tone of voice. “Does Riko often have things he’s displeased about in regards to you?”

“Really? You’re going to waste your question on _that_?” Neil asked with a bit of mockery. “Hasn’t Day told you about things here in the Nest? Riko is almost always displeased,” he decided to enlighten the other young man. “He’s unhappy if you don’t play well. He’s unhappy if you play _too_ well, as I’m sure Day can tell you all about if you ask. He’s unhappy if things don’t go his way, which seems to be most days, thanks to Day’s continued existence. He’s unhappy if you don’t follow his orders. Are you seeing a _theme_ yet?”

There was more silence over the phone for several seconds while Jean stroked his hand over Neil’s hair in an effort to be soothing. “And what does he do when he’s ‘unhappy’?”

Neil’s throat went dry and something tightened in his chest at that question, as he recalled the feel of hands holding him down. “No, you already asked a question.” He hated how rough his voice sounded just then, rough and faint.

“So I did.” Minyard was quiet for a couple of seconds before he let out a slow breath – it sounded as if he was smoking. “No, I’m not having a good time. We’re back in Columbia and Nicky’s fiancé came over for a visit, so there’s this obnoxious tall German who won’t stop smiling and laughing everywhere I look. And they put up a _tree_. With _garland_ and _lights_.” Andrew sounded disgusted. “Kevin is fighting with the two of them over control of the T.V., so there’s either a stupid Exy game or a holiday movie on, Aaron’s yelling about how he needs to get ahead on his homework and for Nicky to stop kissing Erik where everyone can see them, and I’m about to murder the lot of them. What about you?”

Despite himself, Neil smiled at all of that and what he imagined was one very disgruntled looking Andrew Minyard on the other line. “Ah, you’d probably hate it here, too, because there’s an awful lot of Exy going on. Practice, practice and more practice,” Minyard snorted at that, “and then a little sleep. But no kissing or trees or decorations, though Hebig is part German and disgustingly tall.” He leaned back against Jean when Minyard scoffed.

“You Exy junkies are all ridiculous. Probably happy about playing all day.”

“Hmm, I could do with a few more hours of sleep,” Neil admitted, which Jean echoed. “Any thoughts on how you’d kill them?”

“Seal up the windows and doors, then leave the oven running before I take off for a drive,” Minyard admitted.

“Oh, nice.” Neil nodded in approval while Jean gave him an odd look. “Easy to undo all the blockage and if it’s an older house… well, things like that tend to happen during the colder months. _Such_ a tragedy.”

“ _You truly are a devil_ ,” Jean muttered as he tugged on a lock of Neil’s hair. “ _That and I’m never sleeping in this room without you again_.”

“ _Coward_ ,” Neil taunted with a grin.

“Don’t have to worry about getting rid of the bodies that way,” Minyard said after another slow exhale of smoke. “Too much of hassle.”

“What, you don’t have people for that? You suck,” Neil teased the lazy bastard.

For some reason Andrew was quiet a little longer over that, leaving Neil a bit puzzled – he knew about Neil’s parents and had taken all of Neil’s previous teasing in stride. “Right, I’ll have to work on that. Or manage to earn a favor from you.”

“You could only be so lucky.” Neil was going to tease him some more, but broke out into a loud yawn.

“Sounds like a certain little birdy needs some rest,” Minyard remarked. “We’ll pick this up next week.”

“I can’t wait to find out what the death count is,” Neil told him. “Good night.”

“It’s barely noon for the rest of the world.”

“Whatever.” Neil rolled his eyes as he hung up.

“ _I would say that I found that conversation highly disturbing, but I’m sadly used to such things from you at this point_ ,” Jean said as Neil put the phone away. “ _My life is an eternal tragedy_.”

“ _So happy that I can contribute to its ongoing drama_ ,” Neil told his friend with a wide grin.

“ _Shut up and go to sleep, you inconsiderate devil_.”

Jean adored him, he truly did.

There was a voicemail about two ‘days’ later from Stuart, one which Neil was hesitant to return because ‘call me as soon as you get this, kiddo’ was never a good sign. Neil was grateful for Jean’s calming presence as his uncle informed him that his father would be released from prison without any fanfare or notice in another few weeks, sometime around mid-January (around Neil’s – no, around _Nathaniel’s_ birthday, wasn’t that _nice_?).

“The good news is Ichirou is pleased with us and how we handled that Spear thing to keep it from blowing up, so we’re moving forward with the alliance. But it’ll still take some time.” Stuart paused while Neil shuddered in horror at the thought of his father being free. “You can’t tell anyone about this, but Kengo’s health is getting worse, much worse. It’s not going to be a secret for much longer, and I doubt he’ll last to summer. As soon as it’s public knowledge that the old man is ill, we can make a move against the prick.”

Meaning that Nathan Wesninski didn’t have much longer to live, either, but that Neil would probably have to face him before that happened. “I’m where he wanted me to be, am Moriyama property. He can’t do _too_ much to me now.” That didn’t mean he couldn’t hurt Neil, but he couldn’t do anything that would ruin a Moriyama asset, not anymore.

Stuart was quiet save for the sharp inhale of breath and the crackle of burning paper. “I heard about Ichirou claiming you for the main branch, kiddo. The fucking prick shouldn’t be able to touch you now – if the little lord’s good about honoring his protection, he shouldn’t let Nathan into Castle Evermore without being there himself. That’s _if_ the prick can even leave the state without getting into any trouble. Keep your chin up, watch out for yourself and know it’ll be over soon.”

Well, _something_ would be over soon – Neil would continue to spend the next five years at Evermore, at Edgar Allan, to be a Moriyama asset… but yes, hopefully his father wouldn’t be alive for much longer. “Okay, I will.”

“And Merry Christmas. I’ll be bringing something along after the New Year when everything settles.”

Despite the news about his father and the fact that he was stuck in the Nest, Neil smiled. “Thank you. I, ah… well….”

“I know, kiddo, don’t worry about it,” Stuart assured him, his voice gruff from more than just the cigarette he was smoking. “Just keep studying hard and winning that damn game.”

“I will. Merry Christmas to you, too.”

Jean was quiet until they curled up on the bed together. “ _Your father sounds like a true nightmare_.”

“ _He is_.” Neil shivered until Jean wrapped his arms around him and held him close. “ _He’s a monster, one who takes pleasure in hurting people. I never saw him smile unless he was causing pain in some way_.”

“ _My parents_ ….” Jean was quiet as he tucked Neil’s head beneath his chin. “ _It was indifference, more than anything. They never laid a hand on me, but they clearly never cared, either_. _So I looked after Sophie and we had each other_.”

Neil rubbed his right hand along his partner’s arm. “ _It was me and my mother_.” Until she’d died because of his father, and now Neil was here and had Jean to watch his back and keep him whole.

Jean seemed to think about something after that, his hand pressed against Neil’s chest. “ _’The sins of the fathers’, no? You, me and Riko… perhaps that’s why Kevin was able to leave in the end, because Kayleigh Day wasn’t tied to this world, from what I can tell. But we’re paying for what our parents have done_.”

“ _I hate that bullshit_ ,” Neil told him. “ _I hate that we’re stuck footing the bill for what **they’ve** done_.” He’d been innocent until his mother had ran away with him, and only done what had been necessary for them both to survive. Jean hadn’t done _anything_ to deserve what he’d suffered here. Riko? Perhaps he’d been innocent once before Tetsuji had allowed him to grow up into a proper terror, but he reveled in whatever bit of power he had now. “ _I can’t do anything about my father and I can’t tear down the Moriyamas, but I refuse to let Riko win out in the end_.”

“ _Be careful, devil_.”

“ _What’s the point of being a devil in hell if I can’t damn another soul_?” Neil asked as he laced his fingers with Jean’s.

“ _That… be careful_ ,” Jean repeated. “ _He’s not worth you_.”

But it _was_ worth ensuring that Jean’s pain lessened in some way, that Marley and Meg made it to the pros with _their_ souls intact. Still, Neil wouldn’t do anything that put the precious few people he cared about in harm (in more harm)’s way so he promised Jean he would take care before they went to sleep.

*******

Andrew sat on the roof of the Fox Tower despite the cold and flipped through his phone to see the posted pictures of a certain little birdy since Edgar Allan had already started their classes for the semester. As expected, Neil Josten appeared tired, as did Moreau and poetic Patel, but he managed a smile as they posed in front of a snowman dressed in a Ravens’ jersey (and a comment about Neil no longer being the shortest Raven). The next picture was of a smirking Neil handing Curtis his messenger bag, along with the caption of ‘a devil always gets his due – even short ones’ (Patel was the one to post that).

Someone was definitely recovering now that the Ravens had returned to their ‘normal’ days and practice schedules; when Andrew had talked to Neil last, he’d been exhausted and sore from a particularly harsh practice, and yawned throughout their phone call. It hadn’t prevented him from asking Andrew his question, though, which had been what it was he got out of Kevin in return for protecting him from Riko.

When Andrew had told him ‘a promise’, all Neil had done after a hushed conversation with Jean in French was ask if he was certain that Kevin would hold up his end of the bargain. He hadn’t pushed to find out what the promise was, just if Andrew trusted Kevin. Andrew had told him ‘yes’ and Neil had let the matter drop.

It was frustrating, this little dance they did around the truth (almost) each week. Of never pushing too far, of respecting boundaries even when they ‘joked’ about getting rid of bodies and killing people. In some ways Andrew could be his true self with Neil, all masks stripped away and no need for misconceptions, and in other ways there was only so far he could ever get with Neil.

So he’d finally picked up that French and English dictionary at the start of the winter break, and even loaded a few apps onto his phone to help out as well, and spent most of the two weeks in Columbia memorizing words and verbs and all the fun things that went into learning a new language. All because of a too-pretty birdy who’d always be out of Andrew’s reach.

He’d just flung the butt of yet another cigarette into the air when there was a text from Renee asking if it was all right if she came up, to which he responded after a moment’s hesitation. She arrived after a couple of minutes, bearing a smile and a mug of hot chocolate in her left hand – only the second was acknowledged.

“So, University of Texas, Breckenridge and SUA. They’re going to be a challenge to beat,” she remarked as she sat down out of reach on the wall near him.

“If you’re here to discuss Exy, go away.”

She smiled some more at his gruff tone and shook her head, her freshly dyed hair fanning out around her face. “Did you have a nice time? Nicky talked a lot about Erik being there and mentioned something about you studying. I thought that was something Aaron usually did.”

He paused to sip his drink, grateful for something warm after being up on the roof for so long. “Je n'aime pas les idiots,” he told her, accent a little rough since he was so used to German.

“Impressive!” she exclaimed in delight as she clapped her gloved hands together. “So how are Neil and the girls doing? From what Meg sent me and Dan, it was a rather rough break for them with lots of practice.”  Her smile wavered a little. “She really missed being home for the holidays.”

“Much the same from my little birdy – it appears that boring Tetsuji doesn’t understand the concept of a holiday break. I think if anyone expects them to be less of a team without Kevin, they’re going to be mistaken.” That or a lot of birdies were going to be in for a world of pain – more pain, from what he gathered from all the exhausted conversations with Neil.

Renee was quiet as she picked at a loose thread in her left knitted glove. “There’s only so far you can push someone.”

“What does it matter to Riko and Tetsuji when there’s all these young recruits desperate to sign on to the NCAA’s top team?” he asked her with a too-wide grin. Or worse, when people _gave_ their children to the bastards. Sold them off like chattel to be beaten and worse.

“Yet you turned them down,” Renee reminded him with a slight smile. “So not everyone.”

“No, not everyone.” And according to Kevin, Neil – Nathaniel – had tried to run, to say ‘no’, too. His mother had taken him and they’d vanished for a few years, only for Kevin and Coach and Andrew to mess that up for him, for _Seth_ to wave a red flag for the Moriyamas to see and track the runner down. Which was why after the ‘unlucky’ bastard had arrived back on campus without his luggage, he’d found out that somehow he wasn’t registered for any of his classes and would have to spend the first official day of class dealing with the special hell of getting all of his professors to sign off on letting him ‘back’ in and talking to the registrar’s office and all that.

Oh yes, a certain little birdy did indeed know people.

Renee spent the rest of the time talking about how the holiday break had gone back home with Stephanie and Reynolds (was there an odd note or two in her voice when she talked about the dealer? That might explain why Reynolds hadn’t broken down yet and gone running back to Gordon, per their usual ‘break up then make up’ routine) while Andrew finished the hot chocolate. Once it was gone, they got up and went downstairs, Renee to the room she shared with Reynolds and Wilds, Andrew with his ‘monsters’.

The others had run out to pick up the books they needed for the new semester, Nicky being ‘nice’ enough to get Andrew’s for him, and Kevin was at his desk obsessing over the information pack which Wymack had put together for them. Andrew went to fetch a bottle of water from the fridge then leaned against the wall near the desk, which prompted Kevin to fumble for the bottle of pills from his pocket and set them on the desk. “It’s going to be difficult, winning all three games,” he said, his voice hoarse but expression determined as he stared at the print-out.

“We only need to win two,” Andrew reminded him; Breckenridge would be hard to beat as the Foxes had yet to manage that feat, so they would need to focus on taking down UT and SUA.

“We shouldn’t start settling so soon!” Kevin motioned at his laptop, which was open and pulled up the ERC homepage. “The Ravens are going to play Belmonte, University of Arkansas and University of New Mexico. None of those teams will present a real challenge to them so they’ll easily get their three wins and move on to the death match round.”

What did it all matter in the end? Who really believed that the Ravens would do anything but win when the season was over? Yes, the Foxes were doing much better than even Andrew had suspected they’d be at this point in the year, but there wasn’t a chance in hell that they’d defeat the reigning champions, not this year. Probably not even next year or the year after that, though they were no longer the laughing stock of the Class I division. Maybe one day they’d get to the semi-finals, even, but it would take a miracle for them to supplant one of the big Three.

Still, them making some sort of progress, of advancing past the first round would prove Kevin was right, that he could stand on his own without Riko and Tetsuji. It would keep Kevin around for another year and give him a proper backbone, so Andrew had to suffer through a few more stupid games and a few more weeks of stupid practices.

They returned to Columbia that weekend (the house thankfully Erik-free), and Andrew was at his usual spot on the back porch with his mug of coffee while wearing the new coat that Nicky had gotten him for Christmas. Neil called him right on time, his voice a bit more energetic than it had been last week. “Happy New Year, asshole.”

“Back at you, little birdy.” Andrew blew out a plume of smoke as that damn tingling sensation spread through his chest over how amused Neil sounded. “Enjoying being back to a normal schedule?”

“Sleep is such a _wonderful_ thing,” Neil drawled while Moreau murmured something too quiet to be understood. “Makes me almost sympathize with a lazy bastard like you.”

“I’m not lazy, I’m merely resourceful and conserve my energy,” Andrew informed him, which prompted a quick, bright laugh and Moreau muttering what was probably an insult.

“Whatever, just so you put some of that energy to good use this coming Friday. Texas is going to be a challenge, and not just because you’re going to have fun figuring out who’s who once everyone’s out on the court.”

“Amusing.” Andrew paused to sip some coffee while he inwardly grimaced at the thought of so much orange and white out on the court at the same time. “ _Some_ of us are smart enough to tell a few players apart, unlike a certain bird-brain I could name.”

“All I have to do is keep track of which goal to put the ball in, so who cares?” Neil said, the amusement evident in his voice while it sounded as if Moreau taunted him for being a ‘foolish devil’. “It’s not rocket science.”

“I bet you had some impressive grades last semester.”

Neil was quiet for a moment, which made Andrew wonder if he’d crossed a line. “They weren’t too bad,” he said, and huffed when it sounded as if Moreau scoffed a little. “Overall, they were good. Besides, it’s not like I’m here for the academics, right? We all know what my future is, one way or another.”

According to Kevin, Neil – just like Moreau – would play Exy for the Moriyamas until he couldn’t, until he no longer made any money since he was nothing but an asset. Tetsuji had picked him for his ability to play the sport, so that’s all he would do – all he _could_ do.

No, Andrew supposed that it didn’t matter how well Neil did at his major (linguistics, according to an article Andrew _may have_ just read about the little birdy) when it was what he did on the court which kept him alive.

Uncertain what to say next, Andrew was spared when Neil gave a weak chuckle. “So it’s a good thing I like running up and down the damn court, no?” It sounded like Moreau repeated the ‘foolish devil’ comment.

“Great, another Exy addict,” Andrew said as he leaned back against the one post on the porch.

“You didn’t just compare me to Day, did you?” Neil asked, his tone suddenly suspicious.

“Would I do such a thing?” Andrew’s lips twitched when there was a rude noise over the line. “Such little faith,” he stated with a dramatic gasp.

“I don’t know _why_ I’d suspect you of such a thing, really.”

“Hmm.” He paused for another sip of coffee, which was rapidly cooling. “So, my turn, isn’t it?”

“I suppose.” There were rustling noises on the other end of the phone, as if Neil was making himself more comfortable. “Want to know if Tetsuji dyes his hair?”

“Not really.” It was time to see if Andrew’s patience would pay off. “Just how well do you get along with your fellow players, other than Valjean there and your two shadows? Do all you birdies play well together?”

Neil drew in a sharp breath at that question, one he tried to stop, to cut off, which Andrew picked up on right before Moreau snapped. “Why do you care? What type of question is _that_?”

“It’s what I chose to ask,” Andrew replied as he waited to hear Neil’s response.

There was a bitter laugh when the little birdy shook off his silence. “What do you think? You’ve seen us out on the court, how we take on another team to make sure we win. Is there any doubt that we’re twice as hard on each other? Hasn’t Day told you about our training sessions?” he asked, his voice dripping with a sarcasm which was a little too thick as if he was using it as a shield, a wall to keep Andrew from noticing anything else. “We tear into each other all the time to bring out the best in each other and in an effort to claw the way up to the starting line.”

Kevin had indeed told Andrew that much, and it was backed by the little that Curtis and Patel had fed to Renee and Wilds. But Neil was laying it on a bit too thick, was stressing it a bit too much – he had answered Andrew’s question with the truth… but it wasn’t the full truth. At least not with spoken words.

But Andrew had gotten the real answer he wanted in that desperate deflection, in the smoke and mirrors, in that broken indrawn breath and Moreau’s quick offense.

It had been large hands which had left the bruises on Neil’s wrists back at the Fall banquet, and Riko wasn’t a big man (just a big asshole). There were several large Ravens, though. Riko also seemed the type to enjoy ordering people around, considering the way he sent Neil and Moreau to deal with Andrew all the time, the way he’d set Drake on Andrew.

So all Andrew did was click his tongue after the silence lasted more than a couple of seconds. “No wonder your team never wins the Kayleigh Day Spirit award.”

That dragged a faint huff from Neil and a moan from Moreau. “Funny, but I don’t recall the Foxes ever winning that damn award, either. We might not get along as well as some other teams, but we’re unified when we’re out on the court at game-time at least. You don’t see me and Jean throwing punches at each other, unlike a certain team I could name that rhymes with ‘oxes’.”

“Being at each other’s throats keeps things interesting,” Andrew told Neil with a grin that the other boy couldn’t see. “If we all got along we would have taken away that precious title of yours years ago.”

He thought Moreau said something about ‘insane’ while Neil laughed. “Ah, you need to cut back on the partying during championship season if you want to have any chance of advancing past the first round, let alone working brain cells,” Neil chided. “Good luck on Friday.”

“I hope you lose,” Andrew sang out to him, and hung up on the sound of more laughter. For once, though, there wasn’t any tingling warmth in his chest but a cold, clenching feeling at the thought of Neil trapped in the Nest with so many people only too willing to hurt him.

He tracked Kevin down in the den, where the Exy addict was watching the Houston Sirens play against the Portland Peregrines with a remorseful expression on his face. Andrew went over to the desk and snapped the laptop closed, which made Kevin curse and glare at him. “Dammit, I was watching that!”

“Which Ravens do Riko’s bidding?”

The question seemed to confuse Kevin and derail him from his temper tantrum. “What? Ravens?” He leaned back in his chair and took to rubbing his scarred left hand. “What do you mean?”

“Which Ravens do whatever Riko asks them to do so they can suck up to the little psycho?” Andrew asked, that time enunciating each word.

Kevin flinched a little and shook his head before he sighed and cast a longing glance at his laptop, upon which Andrew rested his right hand. “Most of them, really, no one dares to tell him no and everyone wants to stay on his good side, but I suppose there’s a few upperclassmen who always hang around him and do whatever he wants.”

“Names,” Andrew demanded with a wide grin while he tapped his fingers on top of the laptop in a heavy staccato pattern, as he fought to smash his fist down on it instead.

“Dammit… most of the starting lineup,” Kevin complained. “Bautista, Nichols, Johnson and Federov.” Then he seemed to think of something. “Ah, not Nichols, he’s gone now.”

Andrew thought about that, about how none of those men were included in the small group which Neil seemed to be gathering around himself or were tagged by Patel or Curtis in any posts. “What do _you_ think about them?”

Kevin sighed again and gave a pointed look to his laptop. “I didn’t have much to do with them, okay?” When Andrew started to pull the laptop away, the coward made a frustrated sigh and jerked his hand through his hair. “All right! They’re good players but they’re among the ones who enjoy flaunting their senior status over the rookies.” He was quiet for a moment. “Jean never liked them for some reason, nor did Thea.”

Now wasn’t _that_ interesting? A woman Raven, a creature in the minority at the Nest, and a fellow ‘asset’, disliking these fellows. Oh no, that wasn’t suspicious at _all_.

“You need to get your eyesight checked out,” Andrew remarked as he moved away from the desk, unwilling to be in Kevin’s presence any longer at the moment despite the damn meds twisting his emotions and his promise to the older teen.

“My eyesight’s perfect,” the oblivious fool shot back, completely missing the point.

Once back on campus it was more of the same, was everyone preparing for their game on Friday (flying to Texas, how _wonderful_ ), was Kevin in full tyrant mode as he pushed the team to excel and the surprising result of everyone (well, mostly everyone) going along that season since more than anything they wanted to win. Even Gordon was keeping the grumbling and fighting to a minimum for once; spending the holiday with his older sister instead of Reynolds seemed to slap him in the face with reality and made him a bit more cooperative… but how sad, too little too late. While Reynolds seemed to soften a little in regards to him, to not be the utter disdainful bitch she could be when they were ‘off’, she still remained at Renee’s side as if she didn’t trust Gordon anymore.

Someone had really fucked himself over last spring, oh yes.

Thursday night Kevin won control of the T.V. and made the monsters watch the Ravens and UA Razorbacks game; Aaron paid scant attention to it while studying, but Andrew caught his brother watching some of Riko’s and Neil’s more clever plays, while Nicky glared at how poetic Patel took down a few backliners. “See! It’s not just me!”

“You still suck,” Aaron pronounced as he highlighted something in his Advanced Chemistry II book.

“Ha, ha.” Nicky gave his cousin the finger. “I was raised a gentleman, and those guys are even _bigger_ than me! What the hell are they feeding that girl?”

“ _Healthy_ food,” Kevin said as he pointed to the bag of Doritos in Nicky’s left hand. “She’s on a healthy diet and attends regular practices where she pays attention instead of slacking off and whining all the time! This is what the Foxes could become if- _hey_!” He scowled at Andrew, who’d thrown a pillow at his face.

“Quiet time or the television gets unplugged,” he warned, which ended the discussion for at least a quarter.

He found it interesting to note that Neil and Moreau were in the game almost the entire time and appeared exhausted at the end of it, exhausted and tattered around the edges from how the Razorbacks had targeted them and tried to take them down. Neil allowed Patel to slip an arm around his waist until he got over to Moreau, whom he leaned against in commiserate exhaustion… and Andrew noticed how he avoided Bautista as the Ravens clustered together, and how Moreau gave Federov a cold look and Patel was quick to sidle next to Neil’s left side when the other backliner approached as if to block the upperclassman from the little birdy.

It seemed that Neil wasn’t the only protective one on the team, was he?

Andrew got little sleep that night, was woken up by nightmares where Drake was still alive, where he was in Cass’ house with the lemon trees out back and all the creaking wood and _Drake_ in his room holding him down and- he didn’t get much sleep. So it being a cold day with sleet seemed to fit his mood just right, and having to fly was icing on the damn bitter cake at that.

He’d returned to the dorm when his phone pinged, and at first he was going to ignore it thinking that it was Wymack bitching at all of them to get to the stadium early (there was no way he’d be lucky enough that the weather meant their flight was cancelled) when he pulled it from his pocket just in case it was Kevin. Seeing ‘little bird’ on the screen made him blink in surprise to the point that he forgot to glare at the soccer player who was drenched enough to risk creeping into the elevator with him so she could get off on the fifth floor, mindful to press herself into the far corner. He gave her a flat look before he read Neil’s message, a rarity during the week and never a good sign.

‘will see you in Texas’

‘we meaning Riko?’ Andrew sent back, but he had a feeling that there wouldn’t be a response, not if Neil was traveling, not if Neil had risked sending him that warning in the first place. The Ravens wouldn’t have another game until next Thursday, so of course Riko was free to attend the Foxes’ game tonight. Hell, they didn’t even have that far to travel for once, if they’d remained in Arizona last night. It could be considered him giving support to a former teammate or even him checking out the competition – no one really questioned the ‘son of Exy’, did they?

Andrew stepped out of the elevator at the third floor, past the cringing soccer player, and found Kevin packing in their room. He stood by his friend’s bed until Kevin looked up at him. “What? Are you ready yet? We need to be at the stadium in half an hour.”

“Pack an extra spine,” Andrew told him as he folded his arms across his chest. “It looks like Riko’s going to attend the game tonight.”

Kevin stared at him in confusion for a couple of seconds with a pair of socks held in his left hand before he shook his head. “Wait, what? How do you-“

“It doesn’t matter,” Andrew said, cutting off that question before it grew into a conversation. “I’m willing to bet he’s there to rattle you, to try to throw you off for the first game of the season and then pick apart how we played.” He reached out to poke Kevin in his damn tattoo. “So freak out now and be ready to ruin his little trick, all right?”

For a moment it appeared as if Kevin would do just that, would panic, and then his jaw tightened and his fist clenched around his socks. “Dammit, I’m _tired_ of this, of him thinking he can just show up and break me down! He’s not going to win!” He started swearing in Japanese and French as he continued to pack, his motions jerky with anger as he threw things into his travel bag.

Andrew didn’t doubt that if Kevin had walked out onto the Longhorn’s court later that day and found Riko sitting there with a mocking grin on his face it would have rattled him, might have thrown him off his game for a little while… might have cost them a point or two and hurt the Foxes’ chances of a win. But now the ‘coward’ was forewarned and in high dudgeons at the moment, and as long as he sustained it going into the game, it should be all right.

That left Andrew to deal with the Foxes and flying to Austin, a rather unpleasant duo all in all, especially when he had to put up with the sight of the Vixens on top of it, one in particular. Then it was the Longhorns’ stadium, another onslaught of orange and white, and what did one see in the VIP section? A smiling prick flanked by two birdies, all dressed in black. Riko seemed to try to communicate something non-verbally to Kevin and appeared displeased when Kevin gave him an even look back, while Neil gazed without expression at Andrew.

It was a difficult game against UT, was one of the hardest that the Foxes had played and required them to pull together as a team. Andrew had to focus and put effort in to keeping the score low during his half, and Renee managed to not give up too many points for the second half. Gordon was yellow-carded for shoving a backliner but somehow kept his temper under check for the rest of the game, while Yee lived up to some of the faith that Kevin had in him for once.

They didn’t win by much, and more from penalty shots than actual goals. There’d been too many yellow-cards as well, but the Foxes won, six-five. All that mattered was that they were one game into their required two, were halfway there to the death matches. Riko didn’t appear pleased with the results, especially when Renee went over at the end of the game with a big smile on her face to say something to him which changed his expression to disgust, only for her to turn to a blank-faced Moreau and Neil before leaving.

At that point Kevin and Wilds were busy with their interviews, so she came straight over to Andrew. “What was that about?”

“I thanked him for coming to watch us play and to cheer Kevin on,” she said with a slight smile while Reynolds groaned. “I thanked Neil and Jean, too.” She was quiet for a moment as she glanced at Reynolds. “I didn’t spot any new bruises, but they looked exhausted.”

Yesterday hadn’t been the first time that Riko and Tetsuji had made Neil and Moreau play most of a game, and that was after the holiday break when Neil had complained about a lack of sleep. Someone was pushing a little birdy to the edge, it seemed, a bad thing to do when it was the championship season.

Then again, Riko never seemed much concerned about breaking his ‘toys’, did he?

There was a comment or two from the press about how the Foxes had just barely won their first game of the playoffs and if Kevin thought that they’d manage to get past the first round, which the Exy junkie handled with an ease that Andrew had come to expect of him when he was out in front of a camera; he cited how they had a rookie player (Yee) that year and some roughness was to be expected (they had three new players last year, but whatever), that they were playing with a much smaller team than everyone else and still managing to score points. Kevin didn’t expect any miracles from the Foxes that season, but they would advance in the playoffs, would show an improvement over the previous year and only keep moving forward.

After that they showered and were hurried onto the bus by Wymack to return to the airport so they could fly back to Palmetto, and it was when they were waiting for their connecting flight that they caught an interview with Tetsuji where the sour bastard remarked that he was impressed with the progress that both the Foxes and Kevin had made so far, but he didn’t expect them to advance any farther than they had the previous year. Andrew watched how Kevin’s back stiffened, how Wymack’s face flushed and Wilds took to muttering beneath her breath while Yee turned toward Kevin.

“We’re going to prove him wrong,” Kevin said as his left hand clenched around the strap of his bag.

“Damn right we are,” Wilds agreed in a rush. “He’s going to look like an idiot when we get at least two of our three games.”

Wymack reached over to pat Kevin on the back. “He’s trying to save face because he never thought we’d make it this far.”

“I don’t care if it stirs up more shit when he’s proven wrong, but he’s going to eat those words,” Boyd called out, which prompted smiles from Nicky, Wilds and Reynolds but a frown from Wymack.

“Don’t go that far, I’m tired of his team’s fans causing trouble on the campus. Now get your asses onto the plane.” Wymack motioned toward the gate, which was announcing that their plane was ready for boarding.

Since they got back so late, it was another weekend spent on campus, which meant Andrew went up on the roof to smoke and have some privacy for his call with Neil, which was pushed back a couple of hours. He’d just finished his cigarette when his phone rang. “Have fun in Texas?”

“No,” Neil breathed out. “You try spending two days with a prick and see how much ‘fun’ you have.”

“I’m surprised he hasn’t managed to fall into an elevator shaft by now.”

Neil groaned at that while there was some familiar murmuring from Moreau. “Oh, don’t think I haven’t considered it,” the little birdy admitted. “Always too many bodyguards around for a convincing accident.”

Ah, nice to see that someone wasn’t so bothered by ‘playing nice’; Andrew almost asked about his ‘people’, the ones taking care of Gordon for him… but supposed it was much the same in that Riko was too well guarded, the bastard.

“And you call me lazy,” he tutted as he straddled the wall edging the roof, and blamed that for the rush of emotion he felt just then as Neil hummed for a couple of seconds.

“Yes, yes, I sit around doing nothing all day, like a certain goth we all know and adore.”

“Someone has a smart mouth that’s going to get him into trouble one day,” Andrew remarked as he tried not to think about of all the things he wanted to _do_ with that mouth.

“Too late,” Neil chirped, then groaned when Moreau made his ‘devil’ comment. “Yeah, yeah. So anyway, congratulations on winning. Now, how badly do you think Breckenridge is going to beat your ass next week?”

Andrew paused to light another cigarette before he responded with a muffled “fuck you,” which of course made the cocky bastard laugh.

“So eloquent.” Neil said something aside to Moreau, something about his drink, and Andrew heard him swallow for a couple of seconds.

“How was practice today?” he asked as he flicked ash out into the air; it was a quiet day on campus, with only a few students dashing about.

“Rough,” Neil admitted with a lack of humor in his voice. “From what a certain crusty baguette tells me,” that prompted a complaint from Moreau, “we’re not going to get much of a break until the season’s over. Not to jinx you or anything, but be content with winning a few games and then washing out, Andrew. At least then you can lounge around in bed all day.”

Andrew – not ‘asshole’ or ‘Minyard’ but ‘Andrew’. Andrew stared at the burning tip of his cigarette and hated how a simple thing like a name could twist him up so easily, both good and bad.

“Did I lose you? Find a particular patch of shadows that you’re drooling over or something?”

“For every stupid goth reference you make, I’m going to kick your birdy ass the next time we see each other,” Andrew informed the smart-ass with a hungry smile.

“You wish,” Neil said, sounding a bit more ‘normal’ that time.

“I know,” Andrew insisted. “Now, since you’re such a delicate little creature and get all whiney without your rest,” that prompted a snort of amusement from Moreau, “what’s your question?” It hadn’t escaped his attention that Neil hadn’t rushed into asking it, either.

“Fine, you asshole.” Neil seemed to think about it for a couple of seconds while Moreau teased him about something – Andrew could pick out references to ‘redhead’ and ‘British’ that time. “Do you really not care about Exy? About not playing for the pros?”

It was automatic for Andrew to say ‘no’, to say it was a stupid game… but for some reason he found himself hesitating, which was confusing. When he _did_ find himself looking forward to a chance to play against Neil again, to putting him and poetic Patel in their places, to wiping the smirk off of Riko’s face. “I… I don’t feel about it the way you and Kevin do,” he settled on. “It’s a means to an end for me, not the reason for me to get up in the damn morning like it seems to be for you two junkies.” Moreau huffed at that, as if in agreement. “As for the pros? I’m not sure at this point.” Kevin certainly was after him to sign with a team, and before this semester, Andrew would have said ‘no’. But would it be so bad if it meant that he could look out across the court and see a certain smiling face staring back at him? Maybe even have that person on his team?

He needed to get the fucking drugs out of his system and be over this inane infatuation – more than likely he’d be back to hating Exy after this summer.

“Ah, okay.” Neil sounded a little doubtful, but then he probably couldn’t understand how anyone didn’t love Exy. “Must make living with Day so much fun, no?”

“Ever so much,” Andrew breathed out.

“Yeah.” That time Neil seemed more certain. “All right, we need to grab something to eat and then do some homework, and I’m sure you’ve lots of gothy things to do.”

“Kick. Your. Ass,” Andrew promised, bemused despite himself by the thought of an idiot who went out of his way to taunt him with some silly joke.

The sound of Neil’s laughter was the last thing he heard before the line went dead, that damn tingling sensation back in his chest.

*******

“Oh god, I’m having nightmares about drills,” Meg complained as they ate their dinner. “Is that normal? I don’t think that’s normal.”

“I can’t stop dreaming about statistics,” Marley admitted. “Or thinking about them. I swear I look at a person and I’m calculating their reach and height and body weight, then comparing them to some stupid ‘Lobos’.” She frowned as she poked at her rice. “Which really, if I see one more online comment about how we’re going to be ‘eaten’ by the Lobos this Thursday, I’m gonna puke.”

Jean did that disdainful sniffing thing he excelled at as he pointed his fork at Neil’s steamed kale (it was a conspiracy, Neil was certain of it, how else did he end up with it almost every dinner?). “Just because they won the division two years ago doesn’t mean they’re going to be any challenge to us. _Eat it, you need the vitamins_.”

Neil frowned as he stabbed at the detested greens. “ _If I find out you spoke to Maureen, I’m telling her that you’re sneaking coffee_ ,” he threatened, even if it was a lie. “Such a shame they’re coming all the way out here to lose,” he said before he forced down a big mouthful of the damn kale. Meg took pity on him after that by handing over her orange for him to eat, which helped to get rid of the awful taste.

The rest of the dinner was Meg and Marley quizzing each other to see who knew the stats of the Lobos players better, which was a tie, and then they spent a little time on homework (Neil and Marley had Statistics and Western Civilization I together, where he figured he could help her out for the assist in English) before they met up for the final practice of the night.

Wednesday was getting up, working out a little and then going out onto the court to deal with Riko who seemed to have finally gotten over his bad mood from Austin, an intense practice session and then showering and a quick breakfast before class. The campus was covered with black and red banners and Ravens flags because of the championship season, with the students wearing various Ravens decals to show their ‘team spirit’. Neil cringed each time he saw the number ‘4’ and his name, while Jean ignored it and Marley grinned like an idiot when she saw ‘24’. She’d wave at the people (usually other young women) who called out her name and wished them good luck, while Neil just focused on getting to his class.

“You need to get used to that,” she chided him as they left their Statistics class to go meet up with Jean and Meg. “One day you’re going to be this famous player for the Barons or the Colonials or the Peregrines, and you’ll be required to do something other than run around on the court.”

“I know,” he told her as he tugged on his bangs, aware that Riko had told him much the same thing a time or two. “But not right now. I’m supposed to be learning, not posing for pictures.”

“Whatever, Shorty.” Marley reached over to give a gentle tousle to his hair. “We’ll work on it, take some more pictures of you to post online, stuff like that.”

“You’re not helping to disprove that whole ‘sadistic tall freak’ theory I have about you,” he just had to point out.

Marley laughed, which basically proved his point to him, and of course took some pictures of him with Jean when they caught up with his partner. Meg joined in as well, until Neil was very grateful to return to the Nest (for once), which meant no more photos (just more being slammed around by his fellow Ravens and Federov being a perverted asshole and spinach that night with dinner and a shorter late practice since they had a game the next day).

He was able to attend some of his classes on Thursday before the game (Japanese and History) before the Ravens returned to Castle Evermore to prepare for the game with the UNM Lobos. There was more going over the stats that Marley had complained about, more of the drills, and an announcement about the evening’s line-up (surprise, surprise, Neil and Jean were once again expected to play what amounted to a full game, much to the displeasure of the rest of the backliners and strikers, save Marley and Riko).

On one hand, Neil’s skill was growing because of him spending so much time out on court, as was his endurance, and it only helped his popularity and stats. But Riko wasn’t doing it to ‘help’ him but as a punishment, to wear him down and show him how much power the prick wielded over him and Jean, to drive home that Neil would have to do what _he_ demanded when it came to Exy no matter what his tie to Ichirou.

Despite all Riko’s attempts to prove himself important, to show that he was in control, all it took was one of the assistant coaches (Akagi that time) to appear and Riko had no choice but to allow Neil to leave with the man. Considering that they had a game that evening and the additional attention on the team due to the championship season (rumor had it that they might have to move to their ‘house’ on campus for a few days in the near future because of the university president stopping by), he had faith that for once, Riko wouldn’t be able to do anything to Jean during Neil’s absence.

Having suspected that Ichirou might ‘request’ his presence for a meeting, Neil grabbed something from his locker before he went up into the East Tower with Akagi. He had to hand the plastic bag over to the guard standing outside the main room on the top floor and was given a perplexed look for its content, but allowed to carry it inside.

As expected, Ichirou was there along with a couple of bodyguards… and DiMaccio. The enforcer was dressed in another expensive suit, the material dark and even with its tailored cut couldn’t hide the muscled bulk of his body nor the outline of a holstered gun beneath his left arm when he moved a certain way, such as when he turned to face Neil. “You’re looking a bit scrawny again, Junior. Don’t they feed you?”

“Three meals a day,” most of the time, unless Riko was having a hissy fit, “but I tend to burn it off,” Neil said as he glanced at Ichirou, who leaned against the large desk off to the side. “I don’t sit around much.” He had more muscle than when he’d arrived at Edgar Allan because of the workouts and constant exercise, not to mention the better quality of food (when he could eat), but had almost no body fat to spare.

DiMaccio grunted at that. “You’re a scrawny little shit just like the bitch. At least you’re being of some use.” He reached into his pocket to pull out a phone and appeared to make a call. “Now mind your damn manners or I’ll punch you.” Then he handed over the phone.

Neil spared another glance at Ichirou, who gave him a slight nod as he accepted the phone and held it to his right ear. “Hello?”

“They’re right, you do sound like her, Junior.”

It was his father.

Neil almost dropped the phone as shock washed through him, shock and hatred and fear, but forced himself to hold on to the device. “Ah, yes? Yes, sir,” he stuttered out when DiMaccio’s meaty hand smacked into the back of his head; the enforcer backed off as one of Ichirou’s bodyguards took an intentional step forward.

“That’s better, you’ll show me proper respect, you little bastard,” Nathan told him, his words clipped with a familiar anger Neil knew all too well. “I might not be able to beat some manners into you myself just yet, but it’s only a matter of time, Nathaniel.”

“You… are you still in prison,” he asked, mindful not to reveal what his uncle had told him as he glanced at DiMaccio. “Is that why you’re calling me now? Are you out?”

“Clever, just like the whore.” Nathan chuckled for a few seconds, the sound dark and unamused. “Yes, it seems they finally let me out, though I’m restricted to Maryland for the time being. Piss me off or defy me and I’ll make an exception, do you understand? You might finally be where you belong, Junior, but you still caused me a lot of grief.”

“Yu-yes, sir,” Neil said as he hoped that it wasn’t much longer before his uncle could kill the bastard.

“So you continue to behave and do whatever the Moriyamas tell you to do, to be a good boy, or tomorrow will be the last birthday you celebrate, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You better, because I will make your death last for hours, will chop you into pieces and they’ll never find your body, you little shit,” Nathan ground out before he ended the call. Neil handed the phone back to DiMaccio with numb fingers and watched on in silence as the enforcer gave a respectful nod to Ichirou before leaving.

It was quiet in the room for about a minute as Neil stood there lost in the memories of his father, of the scorn and abuse that were the only things that Nathan had ever given to him over the years - that and scars.

"Do you have something?"

Ichirou's quiet voice shook Neil from his thoughts. "Excuse me?" He looked up to see Ichirou gesture to his left hand, which was still clutched around the small bag.

"Ah, yes." He suddenly felt self-conscious of it and wondered if it had been a mistake, the impulse which had made him pick up the item at the airport with some of the money he'd borrowed from Marley; he'd gotten her some chili spices, Meg a precious chocolate bar and Jean a small stuffed armadillo while Nakamura and Riko had been distracted, and hadn't been able to pass up something for the Moriyama heir. "It's... well, I brought you something back from Texas."

"A gift?" Ichirou's left eyebrow arched at that as he motioned the nearest bodyguard to retrieve the bag from Neil, and there was another perplexed look as the man checked it out before handing it to his lord. Ichirou stared into it with a bemused expression before lifting out the small longhorn stuffed cow (bull? animal?) and holding it up in his right hand. "I see. How unique."

"I don't really have any money or time to buy anything but it was there at the airport and...." Neil shut up and gave a slight shrug. "It's a Texas thing?" That had been his second time in Texas and it hadn't been that much more entertaining than the first, considering he'd spent it at Riko's side.

"Then it's appropriate, you bringing this after your visit to the state," Ichirou said with a hint of a smile lurking on his face. "I appreciate your thoughtfulness and kindness."

"Ah... all right." Neil felt his face heat up as he rubbed at the back of his neck and ducked his head.

"Which leads to what I'd like to discuss. _Why_ were you in Texas?"

That was something Neil could focus on so he looked at Ichirou, who had thankfully set the stuffed animal aside. "Kevin Day," Neil said in a tired voice as he nodded toward the court behind his 'lord'. "Riko had hoped to unsettle his former partner by showing up unexpectedly before the Foxes' game with the Longhorns."

"And did he?"

Neil hesitated for a moment, which of course Ichirou caught. "No, he didn't, not that I noticed."

"And why is that?" When Neil hesitated again, Ichirou bridged the space between them and grasped his chin. "My understanding is that Day isn't the most stable of people, so why is that so?"

Dammit. "Because I may have warned a teammate of his beforehand so he was prepared," Neil admitted as he braced himself for Ichirou's anger.

"Ah." To his surprise, Ichirou seemed to consider that for several seconds. "You're in collusion with Day's team?"

"Not quite, just one of them," Neil was quick to deny. "It's... it’s sort of beneficial to us both - we talk just enough so I can keep him aware of what Riko is planning so it doesn't work, and Day remains at Palmetto State." When Ichirou continued to gaze at him and hold on to his chin, he sighed. "It seems preferable that Day remains there, considering what happened while he was here."

"Perhaps," Ichirou said, but he was calm and nodded slightly. "I assume this contact of yours is Andrew Minyard?"

It was a logical assumption, considering that Andrew was protecting Day. "Yes."

"At least he appears to know to remain silent about things," Ichirou mused aloud as he tilted Neil's chin up. "Are you hoping that he'll intervene on your behalf, too?"

Neil kept his expression calm and voice even as he answered that loaded question. "There's nothing for him to 'intervene' in, is there? My place is here, my allegiance is to you, I will not run." He winced a little and swallowed. "Not anymore." Not when he couldn't take Jean and Marley and Meg with him, not when he knew they'd pay for his attempt on freedom.

"A very wise attitude to have," Ichirou said as he stared down at Neil. "Because those facts are never going to change. I believe in rewarding those who are loyal to me and prove their worth, but I won't hesitate to reprimand those who step out of line of their rightful places."

" _I understand, my lord_." Neil remained utterly still despite the urge to pull away, to slap aside Ichirou's hand and put some space between the two of them. Yet he couldn’t, not when he’d agreed to be Ichirou’s, not when his father had given him to the Moriyamas in the first place (for whatever reason Neil still couldn’t understand).

“ _Good_.” Ichirou was quiet for a couple of seconds before his fingers tightened on Neil’s chin. “ _May I thank you for the gift_?”

“ _Ah… yes_ ,” Neil said as he remained still, mostly certain that Ichirou wouldn’t do anything that would have him pulling out his knife.

It was a kiss similar to the last time, a gentle press of the lips and Ichirou standing a bit too close but nothing to make Neil panic or feel threatened so he remained still until the man pulled away. " _Thank you_ ," Ichirou murmured with that slight smile back in place. "I must admit that it's quite a... special item."

Now Neil grew flustered. "You don't... it's stupid, isn't it?"

"Not at all." Ichirou returned back to the desk and picked up his neglected drink. "Good luck on your game tonight, and keep me informed if Riko or my uncle continue to do any unwise things. Them or Day." He gestured to the nearest bodyguard who approached Neil with a small card held in his hands after uttering what Neil knew was an ultimatum.

Neil tensed only for a moment before he accepted the card, mindful of the man standing near him as he memorized what he assumed to be Ichirou's phone number; it was an important sign of trust, he supposed, that he could contact the Moriyama heir directly. "I don't always have access to my phone." Part of him realized it was a different number than the one Ichirou had used to ask him about the room in New York.

"But you do when it's important, correct?" Ichirou gazed at him intently as he sipped his whiskey.

"Yes." Neil bowed his head and resumed memorizing the number before he handed the card back to the guard; his memory wasn't perfect, but he'd been trained to retain important things like that. Considering that he had to go back to practice, he couldn’t risk Riko finding the number on him and asking uncomfortable questions.

"Good."

Their business seemingly done for the time being, Neil bowed once more before leaving the room, grateful to return to practice even if it meant dealing with Riko.

Of course the prick wasn't happy, although Neil took the chance since Tetsuji was standing there to say that he'd been ordered up to the Tower so his father could 'wish' him a Happy Birthday and remind him of his place 'in person' rather than through his lackeys for once. The thought of Nathan Wesninski showing up in the near future to 'teach' Neil some manners placated Riko somewhat, enough to keep his temper under control with all of the reporters and visitors around, and then it was time for the game against the UNM Lobos.

As expected, the Lobos put up one hell of a fight in an attempt to advance to the next step of the championships and to score a win against the reigning champs, and they weren't above playing dirty. They were a large team comprised of all rather big young men, so they rotated their players out as they were yellow and red-carded left and right. Neil and Jean took the numerous hits and the slams and kept on going, long used to the rough practices of their fellow Ravens - Neil bared his teeth at the assholes and taunted them in English and French and his growing arsenal of Spanish insults (thanks to Bautista), which made Marley laugh and Riko smirk and Jean groan in despair. So what if it earned him a few more slams against the wall? The Lobos didn't have _anything_ on the Ravens.

Except that one of their backliners managed to take down Amy in the third quarter, bad enough to twist her ankle, so Meg finally got her chance in the game; that late in the season it wasn't unheard of for the freshmen to get some court time, and Tetsuji didn't hesitate to sub her in. Her hands trembled a little when she stepped out onto the court, but the shaking stopped when the buzzer went off. If Neil, Marley and Jean were a _little_ harsher with their checks after that? Meg flashed them grateful smiles, but she was pretty good at defense on her own after all those private practices with a certain crusty baguette.

The Ravens continued their winning streak, which meant that Riko was in a good mood. Neil suffered through a very brief interview (praise for Tetsuji and Riko, of course, as well as the rest of the team, 'gratitude' for being allowed to play with such talented people, thanks to Jean for putting up with him then pleading exhaustion to get out of saying anything else and Riko being too happy to let him go so he could hog all of the spotlight) before scrubbing himself clean and retreating to his room.

Once there, he had to put up with a _very_ hyper Meg. "Oh my god, that was amazing!" She bounced on the spare bed enough that Marley went to sit at one of the rarely used desks. "So incredible! Do you think I'll play in next week's game? I got two assists! _Two_! I'm building stats! Finally! My parents are so happy for me!" She held up her phone and waved it in the air. "I've so many messages from friends and family! I was on T.V.!!! I'm _famous_!" she all but shrieked.

Jean gave her a weary look and groaned. "Do you have an off button?"

"I think I can smother her until she falls unconscious," Neil offered as he huddled against his partner as if that could shield him from Meg’s happiness.

"Neil!" Meg gasped, her expression a mix of hurt and surprise as she bounced some more.

"Just until you pass out!" Neil clarified. "You know, fall asleep and shut up." Then he chewed on his bottom lip a little. "At least, I'm mostly sure. It's a fine line."

"I'm willing to risk it," Marley muttered as she covered her ears with her hands, and Jean nodded in agreement.

"You... you guys _suck_ ," Meg declared as she started to laugh. "Just so you know."

"Aw, yet you love us anyway," Marley said as she crawled onto the bed to hug her partner. "You talk to the boyfriend yet?"

Meg smiled and hugged her back. "No, I've been wasting my time talking to you mean ingrates."

"Go call him," Neil told her, partly to be nice about the whole thing. "You know you want to, and your parents, and all those friends." At her doubtful look, Jean nodded and made a shooing motion. "We're here all the time, and next week we'll be harassing you if you don't get two assists again or listening to you brag if you get more."

"You're stuck with us ingrates, remember? So go make your calls," Marley insisted.

Meg only hesitated for a moment before she gave Marley a kiss on the cheek. "I love you guys, I really do." She waved to Neil and Jean before she hopped off of the bed. "I'll see you in the morning."

Taking that to mean she'd be on the phone for most of the night and Marley was crashing with them again, Neil groaned as he got up to claim the bathroom first.

While practice the next day was especially hard between the lingering soreness and bruises from the game and Riko being his usual bastard self, their 'king's’ good mood was cemented by the fact that the Foxes lost to Breckenridge that night. Granted, they didn't lose by much, only two points, and the commentators remarked that they appeared the most solid that they'd seen them yet that season. Neil thought that the team still had a good chance to advance to the death match round, especially since SUA had lost their second game and was out of contention.

He mentioned that to Andrew the next day, who clicked his tongue as if annoyed. "That's _if_ we're not down a player by next Friday. Kevin may have another unfortunate accident soon if he doesn't shut up about needing to practice 24/7 to prepare for the game."

Jean snorted at that and shook his head. "Oh, comments from the peanut gallery?"

"He's your problem now," Jean said, for once replying to Andrew in a manner that wasn't insulting or aggressive. "You get to deal with him."

"And I will, by shoving him into his locker and leaving him there in his precious stadium," Andrew drawled.

"You're too kind," Neil remarked. "Such a giver."

Andrew huffed at that. “Yes, it’s remarked often. Now it’s your turn to give.” Neil’s smile slipped as he braced himself for a question similar to two weeks ago, to something he didn’t want to answer. “How do you know German?”

Oh. Neil blinked and relaxed back against Jean’s side, grateful for his partner’s warmth on what seemed a particularly cold day in the Nest. “Ah, that. Well, my mom and I fled to Europe after she took me from my father and what I know now the Moriyamas, too, and we stayed there for several years. That included time in Germany, so it made sense to pick up the language to better fit in.” He remembered those days, the fear and the exhaustion and the hunger, all of that pressing down on him until some days it was so difficult to breathe and keep moving. Yet his mother had always been there at his side, her fingers digging into his own or her back against his, her voice in his ear to urge him on.

He was still so tired, and some days he was hungry, some days he was afraid and almost every one he hurt in one way or another, but now he had Jean at his side and back, heard his voice almost all day long. There was Marley, too, maybe not as strong but just as fierce and determined in her own way. Even Meg tried with her cheerfulness to make things better.

Neil wasn’t free… but had he really been that while on the run? He’d tried to do one thing to bring him happiness, one thing that _he_ wanted, and look what had happened.

“Still there, little birdy?”

“Eh?” Neil realized he’d been lost in thought at the sound of Andrew’s voice. “Did you say something?”

“Just that your accent is pretty good.”

“Of course,” Neil scoffed. “Can’t pretend to be German if I sound like a lazy goth bastard faking it, can I?”

“And you get your ass kicked yet again.” Yet Andrew didn’t sound _that_ upset.

“I’d like to see you try,” Neil admitted. “Without your knives and your walls to back you up.”

“ _The bastard gargoyle that he is_ ,” Jean muttered as he rubbed at his poor nose.

“I’m very good at improvising, as your partner already knows.”

“Right, right.” Neil rolled his eyes at Jean’s glower. “Before I get caught in the middle of this, try not to fail too much next week, all right? No fair you getting to sleep in too much so early in the season.”

“Jealous, little birdy? Get some sleep while you can.” Andrew hung up after that, so Neil closed his eyes and imagined how nice it would be to take a nap, to sleep for the rest of the day.

Why did Andrew always tell him to rest up? Why did the other teen care if he got enough sleep?

Jean ran gentle fingers through his hair. “ _We need to study before we can rest_.”

“ _I know_ ,” Neil complained as he got out of bed to put the phone away, and smiled when he saw Jean texting on his own; they were tucked together for warmth when a sour-faced Marley and a smiling Meg showed up with some coffee and tea and ended up staying for a study session until they all shared an early dinner before bed.

Quite the ‘wild’ college life, Neil thought to himself as he drifted off to sleep – though he supposed on one hand, he was sharing a bed with a guy while a girl slept nearby, and both of them seemed attractive from other people’s reactions. Still, not quite the stuff of the crazy stories some of his classmates went on about, he was certain.

Neil’s uncle wasn’t pleased about Nathan calling him on Thursday and DiMaccio roughing him up (such as it was, a smack or two was nothing compared to what the man had done to him in the past), but Stuart wished him a belated birthday (unnecessary, really) and told him to hold on just a little longer. He also seemed a bit nonplussed about the news that Ichirou had given Neil a number to call him and lectured Neil for a good five minutes about not calling the heir for ‘any frivolous bullshit’. If Neil couldn’t tell that his uncle was worried for him, he would have hung up on Stuart.

“Just… be careful, kiddo.”

“I thought I was,” Neil said, a bit of heat creeping into his voice as his annoyance over everything grew.

“That’s not… just don’t do something your mother would do, all right? Like decide you have a brilliant idea on how to solve everything that’s just going to make it so much worse.”

“ _He knows you, he does_ ,” Jean remarked as he nodded several times.

Neil made a rude gesture in his partner’s direction while he grit his teeth together. “I _won’t_. Anything else?”

“No, I’ll see you soon. I _mean_ that, Nathaniel. Soon.”

Some of Neil’s anger faded at the conviction in Stuart’s voice. “I know. Be careful yourself,” he told the man before they wished each other ‘goodbye’.

Stuart’s ‘soon’ made sense come Wednesday when there were reporters on campus as Neil and Marley left their last class of the day; it wasn’t too unusual of a sight considering that they were the Ravens and now in the playoff season, but usually Tetsuji controlled the media. These reporters were roaming around a bit too freely and while they gave Neil and Marley an interested glance, they had an obvious target in mind – Riko.

Neil and Marley exchanged a look and followed the growing crowd, Marley busy texting all the while, and so caught a couple of questions being asked – something about Kengo Moriyama. That was about when Jean caught up with them, and as soon as he heard mention of Riko’s father, he grabbed Neil and pulled him into the throng with Marley quick to follow.

Ben and Engle seemed to have the same idea, and between the five of them, they closed rank around a furious Riko and ‘escorted’ their captain through the throng of reporters as soon as he gave them an icy retort about focusing on winning games, with Meg, Susan and Tollis soon joining in as they got closer to Evermore. As soon as they neared the parking lot, there were security guards ready to deal with the reporters.

Once in the Nest, a red-faced Riko went stalking off in search of his uncle, while Neil, Jean and the girls retreated to their room to find out what was going on; there had been mention of Kengo and ‘ill’ and ‘hospital’, but they searched online (certain they weren’t the only Ravens doing just that) to find a news site where there was an article about how Kengo Moriyama had collapsed during a board meeting and been rushed to the hospital.

So of course they’d tracked down his youngest son thinking that Riko knew something about his father, that he was involved in Kengo’s life in some way. Which only rubbed in the fact Riko would never have known about his father being ill if there wasn’t a mistaken belief by strangers that he _mattered_ in some way to Kengo.

That he hadn’t stood in front of them unable to say a word about his father because he didn’t know what had happened earlier that morning, that he had no clue about Kengo’s health and would continue to remain ignorant because he was the second son, the useless child Kengo had discarded and passed on to his younger brother (also useless) to raise as Tetsuji saw fit.

Needless to say, it was an extremely brutal practice session that afternoon, and Neil wasn’t surprised when Riko followed him and Jean into the locker room once it was done. He positioned himself to take the brunt of the prick’s temper and got a black eye and a few punches to his left side for his troubles, Jean a bruised jaw and some hits as well before Tetsuji called off his rabid nephew (they did have a game that Thursday after all).

“Will he go visit his father?” Meg asked as she wrapped a towel around the icepack she had fetched for Jean while Marley handed one to Neil.

“It’s… not that type of family,” Neil tried to explain.

“Tetsuji raised him, so he is basically Tetsuji’s child now, not Kengo’s,” Jean said, which was as good a way to put it as any, other than admitting that Kengo had disowned Riko rather than risk an inheritance battle that would kick off a war which would tear apart a criminal empire. “Kengo and Ichirou don’t think of him as family, no matter Riko’s beliefs on the matter.”

“Oh.” Meg appeared saddened by that, and then something seemed to occur to her. “Oh! No wonder he’s so angry some game days! When his brother is supposed to be here, right? He’s probably hoping to see him.”

She might not be the most cut-throat person out there, but she definitely wasn’t stupid. “Exactly. So he’s angry that he’s being excluded now.”

“I don’t care if his feelings are hurt because his father’s ignoring him – the man sounds like an asshole. It’s no reason to treat you two like this,” Marley snapped. “I’ve a few friends who had to deal with terrible parents, they didn’t grow up into abusive shit-turds.”

“Eloquent as ever, ma puce,” Jean teased her, which led to her trying out her minimal French on him (with a so-so accent) which he mocked.

Neil had to hope that he wasn’t one of those ‘shit-turds’, and that his uncle was working on doing something about his father – a ‘terrible’ parent indeed – now that the truth about Kengo’s health was out. It was clear that he and Jean could use an ally with the way that Riko was reacting to his father’s condition, and dreaded to think how unstable the prick would grow when it was clear that Kengo would only get worse instead of better.

*******

Andrew waited until Monday to finally do something about the little slut; he’d put up with Aaron thinking that he’d bought into it being a ‘casual’ thing when his brother had brought her to two banquets, had put up with all the long ‘study sessions’ at the library (all those evenings and any weekends they stayed on campus), the texting at all hours and the long stares during games. But someone had been a bit too daring in the parking lot before they left for Arkansas, had been mistaken in thinking he was out of sight as he’d been a bit too ‘friendly’ with his soon to be broken Vixen.

They’d gotten back late Friday night/early Saturday morning, after a too-long bus ride where Andrew had to put up with most of the Foxes cheering about the fact that they’d made it through the first part of the championship season and Kevin trying to rant at them about preparing for the death matches. Andrew’s ‘good’ mood wasn’t helped at all by another cold rainy day on Saturday, by him huddling in the one window in the bedroom while he smoked a cigarette and listened to a listless Neil ask him if he ever regretted being born.

He was used to his little birdy being sardonic, being quick with the wit and sharp (oh so sharp) with the tongue, to be mocking and bitter and so insightful it hurt, yet mindful of the worst (the most sensitive) of boundaries all the same. Funny, how someone who could tear a person down in a thousand different ways would come to an abrupt halt at the sometimes paper-thin walls Andrew had scrambled to construct with so much effort and pain, with blood and sacrifice to protect the few bits of raw nerves and sensations he had left.

Neil wasn’t supposed to be _listless_ , to be so _hopeless_ , so something was wrong. No, _someone_.

“Riko’s not taking the news about his absent daddy very well, is he.” It wasn’t a question, not when Andrew had dealt with yet another of Kevin’s panic attacks last Wednesday when Wymack told them about Kengo Moriyama.

It was quiet for a couple of seconds before Neil sighed. “No, he isn’t.”

Andrew found himself on his feet and had to laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation, at him reacting as if he could do a _damn_ thing. Of him acting as if Neil was one of his to protect. “Is he-“

“Not your turn,” Neil reminded him, sounding a little more like his usual self. “And it’s… Tetsuji told us we’re to go back to New York next weekend for another shoot, so it’ll get better now.”

Moreau murmured something to Neil, something negative – ‘shouldn’t have’, perhaps ‘shouldn’t have been bad’ but Andrew wasn’t certain. At least without a game for two weeks, he could spend more time studying.

“If you say so.”

“I do.” There was more of Moreau’s nattering, something about sleep. “All right, we’re going to go now. I’ll let you know when I can call next week.”

“Fine.“ Andrew realized after he hung up that he’d never answered Neil, and the other teen hadn’t caught that.

No, he wasn’t in a good mood after that call, not when filled with thoughts of Neil dealing with an even more deranged Riko, not when sitting in his dorm room when Aaron was off being even more of a moron than normal, so after an intense sparring match with Renee on Sunday, he asked a couple of questions which earned him some dubious looks but provided enough information so he had an idea about ‘dear’ Katelyn’s schedule.

He’d made a deal with his brother and _he_ intended to honor it, to keep Aaron safe even from himself. So once done with classes after the morning workout, he headed to the main library even though he hated such places, made sure to shove his armbands into his backpack along the way, and searched through the floors until he found a certain Vixen on the second one.

She was there with another Vixen, but as soon as he gave her a deliberate look and walked past, she paused in whatever they were discussing and pushed away from the table to follow him; he headed farther back, toward a quieter section of the library and an unoccupied row of shelves.

She had the sense to at least hesitate before she entered the row, but didn’t back away or leave once she saw him. “Uhm, And-“

He reached out to grab onto the front of her ugly yellow sweater and slammed her into the bookshelves behind her to shut her up, which prompted a startled cry. “Don’t,” he warned her with a wide grin, the anger and disgust simmering beneath the meds. “Just shut up and don’t speak because I don’t want to hear from you. The sight of you is intolerable as it is." Even touching her had disgusted him, enough to make his skin crawl.

"You are a tumor," he informed the manipulative little slut as that disgust he felt tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I should have cut you out and thrown you away at the first opportunity, the first inkling you were trying to creep into his life.” She opened her mouth, either to argue or cry, which made him jab his right forefinger into her temple as he edged closer, right in front of her to keep her pressed against the shelves. “Don't you _dare_ fucking speak," he growled, which made her catch her breath and cast her gaze down onto the floor. "Do not ignore me, I’m not something you can wish away or some pushover like my brother. You will listen to me, do you understand?" She nodded frantically in agreement as she jerked her chin up to look at him once more.

"The conditions for your survival are simple: stay the hell away from Aaron. Do not talk to him, not call or text him, do not go near him.” He leaned a little closer and grabbed her by the chin despite being repulsed by the girl’s presence as it was. “Or else the next time we talk, I will give you a little reminder and you won’t survive the lesson.” The medication took his emotions and twisted them until a rage-fueled manic laughter bubbled out at the thought of that lesson. “Do you understand? I won’t hold back, no more _playing_ nice.”

As soon as he let her go she nodded in agreement, and slowly slumped to the floor as he stepped away, sobs wracking her body as she wrapped her arms around her head. Satisfied that he’d upheld his end of the bargain, that he was able to keep one person safe, Andrew left her there without another thought save for wiping away the sense of filth from his right hand.

Except it never was that easy, was it?

Afternoon practice was derailed by Aaron storming in while Andrew was changing and attempted to get into his face, only to back off when Andrew gave him a flat stare and held out his hand to push him away. “You fucking bastard, you went after her!”

Of course Boyd, Yee and Nicky clustered around them while Kevin hung back a safe distance and Gordon smiled at the spectacle. “What part of a ‘promise’ don’t you understand,” Andrew demanded of his brother.

“You never should have touched her! She’s not-“

“I told you I’d look after you,” Andrew said as he shoved Aaron back against a row of empty lockers. “You know what that means by now. No drugs, no distractions, no whores flipping their skirts at you.”

Aaron’s face twisted with anger as Boyd said something and Nicky shushed him. “She’s not a whore, dammit! She’s-“

“She’s latched on to you for the house and the pre-med degree,” Andrew gritted out. “Focus on your studies, like we talked about. Forget about her.”

“Just because you’re a freak and don’t need anyone doesn’t mean the rest of us are like that,” Aaron shouted as he shoved Andrew away. “You don’t get to control my life! She’s not like that! Fuck you! You don’t get to mess up the one good thing I have, dammit.” He swung at Andrew, who was already out of his reach and laughing at the absurdity of it all.

“I do, because you’re too much of a fuck-up to understand what’s good for you.” Ah yes, Aaron was back to singing the same old song.

“God, Andrew, really?” Nicky asked in a rough voice.

“Katelyn’s not like that,” Aaron repeated in all but a shout as he scowled at Andrew, his hands clutched into fists. “She’s no using me, dammit! She’s a pre-med major herself, and she’s already putting up with enough shit because of you! So leave us the fuck alone just because you can’t find some girl willing to put up with your messed up ass!”

For a moment Andrew thought about Neil, about how he always teased Andrew, how he seemed to respect Andrew’s limits… and shoved that thought out of his head. “You don’t know a _nything_.”

“I know you’re an asshole,” Aaron shouted.

“An asshole who made sure you managed to get into a university,” Andrew reminded him, which made Nicky wince and Boyd glower. “So remember your fucking promise for once.”

“You….” Aaron appeared incredulous for a moment before he shoved Andrew aside. “How can I forget it when you chase everyone away from me? You’re an utter asshole who can’t get anyone to put up with you so you make _me_ miserable, too! _Fuck you_! Do anything to Katelyn again and I’ll… I’ll wring your fucking psychotic neck!” Aaron shouted as he stormed out of the locker room while Andrew laughed again.

“You can’t leave a practice like that,” Kevin called out while Gordon did a slow clap as if in appreciation. To which Aaron raised his right hand high in the air to give him the finger before the door slammed shut behind him.

Kevin, ever the Exy junkie, gaped at that before turning to Andrew. “Are you letting him get away with that?”

Andrew shrugged as he opened his locker to grab his gear with a wide grin on his face.

“Andrew!”

“Shut up,” Andrew warned as he held up his left hand, unwilling to discuss the matter any longer; Aaron was being ridiculous, as always, Kevin needed to accept that there was more things than Exy in the world and… he refused to think about that ‘and’ as he yanked his helmet free and punched the locker next to his, the meds singing through his blood as always.

For once Kevin seemed to realize that it was in his best interest to drop things, because he gave Andrew a sour look before getting ready for practice.

All Aaron had to do was focus on his studies and put a little effort into Exy in order to remain on the team, to ignore the people who would drag him down if he was a damn moron like he’d been in the past and everything would be fine. Andrew had taken care of Tilda, as promised, had kept Luther at bay (admittedly with Nicky’s help, good to know the pest was of some use) and the leeches who saw his brother as a nice, easy meal ticket because of the house and Aaron’s part of the insurance settlement and the future pre-med degree as far away from his brother as possible.

Was Aaron grateful for any of it? Of course not. Aaron had wanted him out here, had played a part in getting him out of California because he couldn’t handle life with Tilda alone anymore, yet couldn’t seem to accept _anything_ Andrew did to keep him safe and make his life better.

He kept whining and moaning about Tilda, who could be up for the worst mother of the year award for how she’d treated Aaron, let alone Andrew (if he bothered to acknowledge her as his mother in the first place), kept bitching about being a Fox when it had gained him a fucking scholarship for his precious medical degree, and certainly didn’t appreciate Andrew’s efforts to ensure he wasn’t distracted from his studies.

Didn’t appreciate Andrew at all, basically.

Andrew couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if he confessed to Neil about Tilda, and imagined that he’d just be quizzed on what method he’d used to do the job and how effective it had been with no sense of censure-if anything, the little birdy would judge him on how it had worked out in the end, tampering with the brake lines et all. Ironic, that a stranger would be more accepting of his actions than the twin he’d committed the ‘crime’ for in the first place.

Not that it mattered, did it?

Andrew shoved the padding onto his shoulders so he could finish getting ready and go out for another useless practice session with a bunch of people he could barely tolerate, all for a team he’d joined for a senseless reason such as to help out his pathetic, ungrateful family.

But he was used to hopeless things that wouldn’t benefit him at all by then, so it was just more of the same old, same old.

*******

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *******  
> Yes, that one Neil and Ichirou scene, you know who you are who are to blame for that. It's all on you... (I couldn't resist). Ichirou has it on the desk of his office (and may smile at it from time to time) - people see it and are 'wtf?'. But it is a thing to give souvenirs from places you visit, so....
> 
> I always feel SO BAD for Katelyn. Poor girl. Some twisting of what went on in the series, taking Andrew's 'you won' speech and turning it into 'stay TF away from my bro' instead (that and twisting the timeline of it all). More to play out. Yes, Bee has her hands full here. Or will.
> 
> Hmm... next chapter. Oh boy, the next chapter....
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!  
> *******


	11. Can't Go to Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm, so there's been a request for a recap? Let me see if I can manage this. What's gone on in the previous chapters:  
> Neil ran from Millport after turning down Kevin and Wymack, only to be caught by the Moriyamas because of Seth being oh so amused at anyone turning down Kevin Day and posting about it (anonymously) on an Exy forum. Riko was at first intrigued by Neil, but the more he looked into matters, the more he dug up and... yes, Neil ended up at Edgar Allan as the Ravens' newest striker, as Jean Moreau's newest partner and Riko began the breaking process. Neil eventually 'bent' because of Riko's threats against Jean, but suffered a lot for his attitude. He also takes two of the freshmen, Marley Patel and Megan Curtis, under his ‘protection’.  
> Meanwhile, Kevin and the Foxes recruited Kenny Yee as their new striker, and Andrew developed a small obsession with Neil Josten after he ‘disappeared’. An obsession that’s not helped when it’s announced at the start of the season that Neil is the Raven’s new #4 and that they’ve switched districts.  
> Riko brings Neil to the Kathy Fernandid show, which does not go well for Kevin between Riko and Neil tearing into him. Neil puts himself between Andrew while Riko has a private ‘chat’ with Kevin, and Andrew is left somewhat interested with the seemingly suicidal striker. They meet up again at the Fall banquet, where there’s more tearing into Kevin and more violence… and Andrew realizes that Neil may be putting up with abuse while at Evermore (he is).  
> Andrew uses Jean’s phone number to reach out to the backliner, which gets Jean in trouble with the Moriyamas, but it makes Neil use a burner phone he had Marley buy him in exchange for extra training sessions to reach out to Andrew (to tell him to leave Jean alone) and soon the two have set up weekly phone calls (so Andrew leaves Jean alone on Neil’s part, so Andrew can try to get some information out of Neil on his part). A truth game is proposed, and at first it’s mostly insults. At first. The Ravens show up to defeat the Foxes at PSU, but Andrew uses that opportunity to have Seth admit the truth to Neil that Andrew wasn’t the one to post about Neil on the forum (something which Riko had led Neil to believe and so hold against Andrew).  
> Neil and Jean get a bit of a break from the abuse at EA when they receive a marketing contract and go to NYC for the photo shoot, where Neil overhears Riko’s plan to do something to Andrew. He warns Andrew about the little he knows – to not go ‘home’ for the Thanksgiving holiday. While that is going on, Neil is also dealing with Ichirou Moriyama, who seems to find him… interesting. He also has been reunited with his uncle, Stuart Hatford, who is working with Ichirou and trying to gain revenge on Nathan Wesninski/work with the Moriyamas.  
> Andrew listens to Neil and stays at campus for Thanksgiving, but Riko’s plan to have his old foster brother, Drake, hurt him, catches up to him that night. Drake knocks out Kevin and manages to hurt Andrew, but before anything too bad can happen, Wymack finds them and beats the sh!t out of Drake. The cops are called and Drake ‘dies’ in custody of apparent suicide. Riko tries to get Kevin to leave the Foxes yet again at the Winter banquet, but Andrew interrupts (with Neil’s help) and punches Riko.  
> Andrew’s realizing more and more that he has ‘feelings’ for Neil, but tells himself that they’re not real, that they’re the drugs and he’ll be back to ‘normal’ in the summer when Bee takes him off the meds. Neil’s doing what he can to survive at the Nest, to keep Jean and Marley and Meg safe. The two boys continue with their calls and their truth games, though they spend more time talking to each other than asking their questions.  
> Stuart tells Neil about Kengo’s approaching death and warns him that it’s a matter of time before he takes out Nathan. Ichirou… is still ‘interested’. Andrew reminds Aaron of their ‘promise’ by scaring Katelyn away, which doesn’t go over well with Aaron.
> 
> And here we are now. *nervous laughter* Let me just say that... wait until the chapter is over before any judgements? And it is STILL an Andreil fic. That is the end goal. And a HEA. But the plot drives it and this is where the plot went, based on several things. More at the end, I promise.
> 
> That said, triggers. Ah... yes, dubious consent. I really tried to be careful when writing this to show reactions and fallout and, as always, not be too explicit, but it is what it is. If you've any questions, please reach out to me on tumblr at 'nekojitachan'.  
> And as always, much thanks to Fall-for-the-Game for the beta!
> 
> And I'll update the tags next chapter.
> 
> *******

*******

The week leading up to Neil’s return visit to New York City was… Neil wasn’t a very religious person, not with the life he led, not with his parents, but he was certainly beginning to wonder about Jean’s concept of ‘hell’ and how it applied to the Nest. He’d thought the years in Baltimore had been bad, thought his father a monster, and realized that it was all about degrees.

Riko still wasn’t on Nathan Wesninski’s level when it came to ruining lives and leaving death in his wake… but Neil supposed that the prick was working his way up to it and was still somewhat restrained by his uncle. _Somewhat_. He didn’t have an endless supply of Ravens to cripple and destroy, after all, and so had to make his ‘fun’ last, had to come up with more inventive ways to get his sadistic jollies.

Apparently, waterboarding was one of them. That it didn’t leave any physical marks (other than Neil struggling against being held down)? So much the better.

Neil thought Jackson Plank shoving his (Nathaniel’s) head under the brackish water in the small pond out in the backyard when he’d been a child had been awful, had left him with enough nightmares for years. Riko had delighted in his struggles, in his multilingual curses and kept pouring the water over his cloth-covered face as he’d choked and sputtered, as the liquid had filled his lungs and he couldn’t breathe…. And when that had been over with and he’d huddled on the floor, shivering from the cold and left weakened from the ordeal, he had to watch as a resigned Jean went through it, too.

He hated his father with an acid-like intensity, hated the Malcolms and DiMaccio and Plank for the way they’d abused him and his mother and then chased them down… and now he felt the same way for Riko. There was no sympathy at all for the sick bastard, for the child shunned by his own father and brother and raised by an abusive uncle – not when Riko took such delight in hurting other people. Riko Moriyama was a rabid dog who needed to be put down as soon as possible before he infected anyone else, just like he’d already done to Federov and Bautista and Johnson.

Meg’s excitement at playing in two games was dampened at seeing them so haggard and exhausted, at knowing about the bruises they hid beneath makeup before they went out on campus. Marley could barely hide her contempt for Riko and Tetsuji and received a lecture from Jean on not being stupid, on how she shouldn’t risk herself over what she couldn’t change. The only thing that gave Neil any hope at all was the Thursday before he left for New York, there was a message from his uncle on his phone – ‘flash yourself’.

Jean frowned as he read it. “ _Please tell me this does not involve… oh, what is it…_ streaking _? Because I will go to Tetsuji and demand a new partner, I will_.”

Neil smiled at the grumpy bastard as he lay down beside him with the phone still held up with its screen visible. “ _No, not quite_.” He shuddered at the idea of running around naked in front of the Ravens or even worse, out on campus, even though he’d gotten used to the lack of privacy in the locker room and showers. “ _It means he wants me to be noticed the next few days, to be seen, so I take it that something’s going to happen. A good thing we’ll be leaving for New York tomorrow, no_?” It meant that his uncle must be ready to move against his father at last, and wanted to make sure that no one could connect him to Nathan Wesninski’s ‘untimely’ death, just in case someone figured out that ‘Neil Josten’ and ‘Nathaniel Wesninski’ were the same person.

“ _It would be too easy to just say that, wouldn’t it_?” Jean shook his head before Neil could speak. “ _Yes, yes, I know, secret underworld stuff, how exciting_.”

“ _Well, I **am** a devil_ ,” Neil teased, and smiled when Jean shoved a hand in his face.

They left for New York after their classes for the day, with Marley being a brat and giving them a preposterous ‘shopping list’ and Meg taking several pictures before they returned to the Nest to grab their bags. Any amusement they felt over the girls’ antics melted away when they were stuck in the large SUV with Riko and Nakamura on the way to the airport, but Riko was too busy making plans for his time in the city to torment them so Neil and Jean huddled together in the backseat, as far away from a quiet Nakamura as possible.

They were back at the same hotel as before, which helped to put Riko in a good mood, and per his uncle’s instructions, Neil actually posted on his neglected Instagram account a couple of times during the journey; he took some pictures of him and Jean and made references to them having another photo shoot for Brine Racquets. By the time they’d reached the Lowell Hotel, there were already hundreds of replies to his posts, which was rather frightening, all in all.

Once again, he and Jean were in a suite together and it was apparent that Riko was intent on enjoying himself at a club or some party that evening so that meant they were left alone. Neil walked into the spacious rooms assigned to them and wasn’t surprised to find a fruit basket in the small kitchenette.

What did surprise him, however, were the two garment bags hanging in the ‘bedroom’, along with a note that someone would be by to collect him and Jean at 7pm.

Jean took one look at the note and the bags before he made a beeline for the cognac. “You need to be somewhat sober!” Neil shouted after his partner.

“ _Somewhat_!” Jean shouted back.

It was going to be such a wonderful weekend, Neil told himself as he went to make a cup of tea while he debated drowning himself in the tub.

Jean kicked him out after half an hour so he could enjoy the tub himself, a bit tipsy but not too much, so Neil made some coffee and offered up a few butter biscuits to his friend, and by 7pm they were both dressed in the expensive slacks, dress shirts and fitted sweaters included in the garment bags – black pants for both, but a blue shirt and cashmere sweater for Neil and silvery grey for Jean. Right on the hour, there was a knock on their door, which Neil opened slowly (with Jean right behind him prepared to shove it closed) to reveal one of the bodyguards he’d seen up in the East Tower during his ‘talks’ with Ichirou.

“Follow me,” the man told him in accented English.

It looked as if they had no choice but to do that.

They followed the man – dressed in a tailored suit which no doubt hid at least one gun – to the elevator and up to the top floor, which needed a key card for access. The area was converted into a very expensive penthouse, much more expansive than the suite where Neil and Jean were staying, a sure sign of an important guest.

It apparently was where Ichirou was staying while in town.

Neil had thought that the suite they were staying at was lavish, but Ichirou’s was so overdone that he was nervous to even sit down on the ornate furniture. Still, he was led to a table set with elaborate porcelain plates and chairs which had to be at least a hundred years old, and the look Ichirou directed to him clearly said ‘sit the hell down’. So he did, and Jean’s amused snort did nothing for his mood.

“You both look….” Ichirou’s dark gold eyes narrowed as he reached over to grasp Neil’s chin in his right hand as his thumb rubbed against the newly applied makeup along Neil’s jaw. “An odd place for such a thing, yes? Especially since you wear so much protective gear.”

Of course Ichirou would notice. Mindful of his ‘promise’ to not tell lies, Neil sighed as he struggled against resisting his ‘lord’s’ grip. “But not if someone is holding your jaw while they strap you to a table,” he admitted, while Jean went stiff in the antique chair next to him.

“And why would someone do that?” Ichirou asked in a deceptively quiet voice while one of his bodyguards went about pouring what looked to be glasses of red wine for all three of them.

“Because your- because Riko decided that waterboarding the both of us was an acceptable punishment he could get away with that wouldn’t leave too many marks before this weekend,” Neil said.

“ _You shouldn’t_ -“ Jean stopped as he eyed Ichirou with obvious reservations.

“What is your partner saying?” Ichirou asked, which left Neil torn between his loyalty to Jean and Ichirou’s power over them both. “ _What did he say_?” Ichirou repeated, that time in Japanese with a rare show of temper.

“ _He’s trying to look out for me_ ,” Neil admitted in the same language. “ _He ever tries to look out for me_ , _he’s my **partner**_ ,” he attempted to explain as he held Ichirou’s narrowed gaze.

Ichirou was quiet for several seconds as he let go of Neil then sipped the wine before he nodded in approval to the bodyguard. “Do _not_ prevent Nathaniel from telling me the truth,” he directed at Jean. “His duty is to do just that.”

Jean was quiet for a moment as he picked up his wineglass. “I’ve survived at the Nest by keeping my mouth shut,” he told Ichirou while swiping aside his bangs to reveal the scars near his hairline, which surprised Neil, that slight defiance. “Pardon me if this… openness is unusual for me.”

Ichirou seemed to regard him for a couple of seconds while he sipped his wine before he nodded. “Accepted. I am not one of the Moriyamas you are used to, however, so don’t behave the same when with me.”

Jean acknowledged that rebuke and bowed his head. “ _Understood_ ,” he said in Japanese.

That seemed to ease Ichirou’s temper since he gave a slight smile. “It’s good to know that Nathaniel has such loyalty at his side. Now that we’re upon common ground, let us enjoy our meal.” He nodded to the bodyguards standing off to the side, who were quick to serve them their dinner.

There were steamed clothes for them to clean their hands before they were served several small courses, each one more delicious than the previous (and Neil had learned during his time in Europe it was probably best not to know what he was eating, that way he could enjoy it without preconceptions ruining the meal for him, especially when dealing with what he expected were more… exotic seafood than he’d normally had over the years). Though considering all the sweetmeats and offal he’d eaten, fugu, sea urchin, and sea cucumbers were probably nothing in comparison, especially between bites of raw tuna, salmon and some of the best steak he’d ever eaten.

Not to mention it was somewhat amusing to watch Jean eat it all, torn as his friend was between his usual show of disdain for almost everything and what was masked delight at such fine food and wine, as well as a civil, adult conversation for once.

During their meal, Ichirou asked questions about what went on at the Nest, about Riko and Tetsuji and how the Ravens were doing, what Neil and Jean thought about their team’s chances for the season (good, as long as they didn’t lose any of their more talented players to Riko’s temper). It wasn’t until they were eating a sponge cake with layers of green tea flavored whipped cream (Neil found it delicious since it wasn’t too sweet) along with sips of a rather sweet dessert wine that Ichirou brought up Neil’s family. “The Hatfords should be overtaking Wesninski’s empire as we speak.” He gazed at Neil while he sipped his wine.

Neil faltered as he dug his fork into the cake, while Jean gave him a worried look. “I… I hope my uncle is all right,” he finally said as he abandoned the dessert, his appetite gone.

“Your uncle strikes me as a clever man, which runs in the bloodline.” Ichirou nodded toward Neil. “As soon as Wesninski and his associates are gone, there will be someone from the Hatford group assigned to the Nest.” He reached across the table to grasp Neil’s chin once again. “It seems _my_ uncle needs a closer watch.” His thumb rubbed along the healing bruise on Neil’s jaw light enough to make him shiver.

“Ah… thank you?” Neil didn’t know how he was supposed to respond to that and went with what seemed safest.

“You’re welcome,” Ichirou answered with a slight smile. “I’m sure your uncle will be happy to see you again, though not while you bear this.” His thumb tapped against the bruise once before letting go. “I understand that tomorrow will be a busy day at the studio, but I hope you can still find the time to pick up some more souvenirs for your friends.”

Jean made a choking sound as he nearly spit out the last of his wine, while Neil wondered if he might have had too much with dinner, even if he hadn’t even had a glass of each. “Uhm… yes.”

Thankfully they were able to leave soon after that, since Ichirou seemed to have business to attend to, with the same bodyguard returning them to their room. Jean once more was quick to pour himself a full glass of cognac when they were inside and alone. “ _You… are you trying to drive me insane_?” he asked once he tossed back half a glass of the liquor.

“No?” Neil sighed as he headed to the bathroom so he could brush his teeth before bed. “ _I’m not **doing** anything, honest_.”

Jean’s expression softened as he followed Neil into the bathroom. “ _Yes, I believe you, yet he’s being frighteningly insistent_.” He gazed at Neil as he brushed his teeth. “ _The fact that he doesn’t push beyond a certain point… I suppose that’s in your favor._ ”

Neil didn’t want to think about that right then, not when they were staying in a hotel room which Ichirou was probably paying for, one which he might have access to, so he shook his head. “Let’s just go to bed.”

“All right,” Jean agreed, and while his partner got ready, Neil made sure the door was securely locked and bolted then climbed into the large king bed once he changed out of the expensive clothes for the night.

Unsurprisingly, he had a nightmare because of everything, the hotel and what they’d talked about, but just feeling Jean against his back helped to assure him enough that he was safe so he could fall back to sleep. Come morning he had plenty of tea to help wake him up, along with some fresh fruit from the basket and a bowl of oatmeal after another long soak in the tub, and they once again waited down in the lobby for what looked like a hung-over Riko to meet up with them and a frowning Nakamura.

If the makeup assistants that the marketing people who worked for Brine Racquets (headed by Leah still) noticed the bruises on Neil’s face as they prepared him and Jean for their photo shoots, they didn’t say anything. It was another uncomfortable session, another round of outfit changes and ridiculous poses, and by evening they were exhausted and all too willing to return to the hotel while Riko agreed to go out with Leah and several others.

Neil and Jean spent some time in the gift shop again, that time purchasing a black cashmere scarf for Ichirou (there really wasn’t anything that screamed ‘NYC souvenir’ at the store, considering it was in a high end hotel, and somehow a plate setting seemed too much and an expensive robe… _no_ ).

“ _You truly are a devil_ ,” Jean said with a severe frown, “ _and are playing with fire_.”

“ _Well, I don’t see any stuffed animals here,”_ Neil commented _. “It’ll have to do_.” Marley ended up with a thick wrap and Meg some jeweled hair combs, and a few small trinkets for some of the other Ravens.

There was a paper delivered to their room on Sunday morning before they left, the New York Times with a small headline on the front page regarding Nathan ‘the Butcher of Baltimore’ Wesninski’s death the night before in Baltimore, Maryland. Neil skimmed it enough to ascertain that there had been some sort of violent break-in to his father’s house, that people hadn’t been aware that Nathan had been released from prison and that there weren’t any suspects in custody.

Jean had to steady him for a moment as he wavered on his feet. “He’s really dead,” he said, his voice little more than a whisper from what he thought might be a mix of happiness and relief. “Stuart did it, he’s dead.”

“So it seems.” Jean took the paper from him and gave his shoulders a gentle rub. “ _Do you… is there anything you need_?”

For a moment Neil almost said a chance to spit on his father’s corpse, to pay the bastard back for all the pain he’d caused Neil and his mother… but that might be a bit much for even Jean to understand. “No,” he said as he rubbed at his dry eyes. “ _All that matters in the end is that he’s dead, finally_.” That he couldn’t hurt Neil anymore – not that there wasn’t much more he _could_ do to Neil, after handing him over to the Moriyamas, right?

Knowing Nathan Wesninski, he probably could have come up with _something_.

Stuart didn’t show up until Wednesday at the Nest, during which time Riko was busy with his professional team when not in classes and Tetsuji was even more demanding than usual (which didn’t bode well for Dixon and Mills). The team was out on the court for afternoon practice when Stuart and two other people came out to stand near Tetsuji, waiting until the end of the session to talk to him. It was clear from his slight frown that he knew who they were, that and the way he gave them a curt nod.

When Stuart was finished talking, he nodded again and called out Neil’s last name. Surprised by that, Neil and Jean went over to their ‘Master’.

Mindful to play ‘dumb’, Neil continued to act surprised when he came to a halt a couple of feet from the small group. “Master,” he said to Tetsuji, along with a small bow. “Ah… Uncle Stuart?”

“It’s good to see you again, kiddo,” Stuart said with a smile. “Damn, did you grow big.” He was clearly playing along with Neil, pretending not to have seen him for some time.

“Josten, you seem to remember your uncle,” Tetsuji said without any inflection. “The Hatfords are working with us now on security and will have a presence here.” Something dark flashed in his eyes, a hint of unhappiness, before he turned aside and called for everyone to leave the court while he walked away.

Stuart seemed to have caught that as he smiled. “I’ll probably be busy reporting to the, uhm, _higher ups_ , but I want you to meet Bren Morgan and Janna Sial.” He motioned to the two people standing near him, a tall, broad shouldered young man with dark hair and a friendly smile despite his bulk and a petite young woman with a muscular build, close-cropped black hair and dark brown eyes who appeared South Asian. “They’re gonna help look after you.”

“ _Good luck with that_ ,” Jean muttered.

Stuart gave him a severe look for the remark before he shook his head. “Ichirou’s already told Tetsuji about it, so you just make sure one of these two and anyone else I assign is around when you’re at the Nest, you got it? That little shit’s gonna have to learn that you’re off limits.”

Yes, but what about Jean and the girls? Still, Neil smiled and thanked his uncle, which earned him a quick, unconformable hug before he and Jean had to go wash off.

Of course he had to explain things somewhat to Marley and Meg once the four of them were gathered in his and Jean’s room (with Bren looming outside), which meant admitting to his mother’s family being _somewhat_ involved in criminal activities (which Marley knew about a little, or at least already suspected), and now having people watch over him. Meg had figured out one or two things as well, considering everything the Moriyamas seemed to get away with and some of the Ravens being a little _too_ talkative, but at least had been warned to keep her mouth shut.

Riko… Riko wasn’t happy when he found out, which was to be expected. Neil made certain to keep Jean near him as much as possible (not too difficult since they were partners) and for the girls to be around other Ravens when not with them. At least with spring approaching, Riko was too busy with his professional team and classes _and_ the Ravens to do more than make a few threats while one of the Hatford people loomed nearby.

Well, that and kept making Neil and Jean play full games, and to target them during practices, which wasn’t anything new.  At least they got a break before and after the death match with the UIC Flames – Neil found himself looking forward to those breaks, and oddly enough his calls with Andrew when he could drop the mask he put on for everyone for ten or twenty minutes and speak as much of the truth as possible. He’d never imagined his life taking such a turn as the one which had landed him at Evermore, but there it was.

So of course he kept waiting for something to come along and ruin things.

*******

Bee handed Andrew a mug of hot chocolate and settled into her chair before she picked up her own mug. “So, you’ve made it to the next round, congratulations.” She raised her mug in the air as if some form of a salute.

“Oh Bee, you know how much I dislike talking about Exy,” Andrew complained after blowing on the thick topping of foam and melting marshmallows in his drink.

“Hmm, but it’s an important part of your life here at PSU,” she pointed out. “And I felt it quite the achievement, all things considered.” Then she laughed at his exaggerated grimace. “Really? You don’t want to talk about it at all?”

“Not when I have to put up with Coach and Kevin going on about this Friday’s game with Nevada, no,” he told her. “It’s bad enough, all the reporters being on campus and the stupid ‘team spirit’ shit as well.”

“Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me.” She blew on her drink as well for a couple of seconds as if to buy time to marshal her thoughts. “So how are things going with you and Aaron? Any signs of improvement?”

“You’re showing your fangs,” he warned her, but that topic was to be expected, all things considered. “No, for some reason he still holds a grudge against me for scaring away his little strumpet and refuses to talk to me,” he said as he faked a pout. “Only comes to Columbia so he can go to Eden’s and then spends most of his time up in his room, makes a big deal about studying because ‘all he’s allowed to do is play a stupid game for his scholarship which he has to keep his grades up for’ and blah, blah, blah.” Andrew sighed before he risked a sip of the hot chocolate, which was bearable at that point. What was a little pain to him, right?

Bee sighed as well as she set her drink aside untouched to jot something down on her notepad before she set it aside, too. “Andrew… I understand that you did what you felt was best for Aaron, but for a relationship to work, any relationship, there need to be boundaries. You still don’t believe that you crossed any with Aaron?”

“No.” He stared at her for several seconds after saying that; she knew his deal with his twin.

“All right.” Bee nodded once and left it at that. “It’s obvious that _Aaron_ believes otherwise, be that right or not. You may need to redefine things with him.” She held up her right hand to ask him to listen to her before tearing her argument to pieces. “I’m not choosing sides here, I’m just saying that Aaron may have a different opinion on what he agreed to or that things have changed in the last two years and a new agreement needs to be put into place. Things… are fluid, Andrew.” She looked at him and gave a slight shrug, her smile on the wan side. “Not everyone can accept things in black and white for so long, I’m afraid. You are very unique in that regard.”

“Why don’t I feel so lucky?” Andrew asked, and wasn’t surprised when Bee didn’t answer.

Wisely, Bee changed the topic and asked how he was doing with his classes, which were much the same as always. He was almost finished with his hot chocolate when she brought up Neil. “How are things with your new friend? Is he still struggling with the Ravens?”

Dammit, Andrew knew he shouldn’t have mentioned Neil to her, but he… Neil confused him and made him _feel_ too much when he wasn’t used to _feeling_. “Things seem to have evened out for him there, he’s been in a better mood the last couple of weeks but is still tired.”

Bee appeared a little worried about that. “I don’t know how the athletics department at Edgar Allan gets away with some of the things they do there… but most of what I know has been told to me in confidence so there’s not much I can do.” She shook her head, her lips pressed into a thin line and her brown eyes bright with anger. “There’s more important things than being a championship team.”

“Funny, Abby’s remarked much the same a time or two,” Andrew told her with a mocking grin. “You get together to drown your sorrows with some wine or what?”

Bee gave him a blank look for a moment then laughed, the sound tired and a little flat. “We need something a hell of a lot stronger than that after dealing with you kids for so long.”

Andrew gasped and clutched at his heart. “But you _adore_ us.”

Now Bee’s expression was almost sickeningly tender. “We have to, to keep doing this.”

Andrew clicked his tongue and got up to make more hot chocolate. “Whatever.”

“So Neil’s doing well and you’re still doing your little truth game? I find it interesting that you’re willing to continue such a… revealing endeavor with him, especially considering your suspicions over his background at the beginning.”

Because Neil respected those _boundaries_ that Aaron didn’t give a damn about, wasn’t that a joke? Andrew had asked his little birdy about Nathan Wesninski’s death the weekend it had happened and Neil had returned to Edgar Allan, only for the younger teen to go quiet for a few seconds and state that it was something he couldn’t answer _right then_ and for Andrew to ask again in a few more months. It was rare for there to be an outright ‘no’… except it hadn’t been a full ‘no’ and Andrew had realized that Neil expected them to keep playing their ‘game’ for some time to come.

He hated how that revelation had made him feel, as if he’d been given some sort of a present, something rare and valuable. When he’d been given so little (if anything) at all over the years.

Was that why when it had been Neil’s turn the next week and he’d been asked about his mother’s death, he’d told the truth about Tilda and the car accident? Had he been expecting Neil to be disgusted or dismayed upon learning that he’d killed his birth mother for abusing his brother? If so, that had backfired because Neil had been quiet for a couple of breaths before admitting that he wished that he could have played some part in his father’s death for all the pain that the bastard had caused _his_ mother and shown no judgment (no _negative_ judgment) toward Andrew.

Was Neil Josten even _real_? Oh, the _name_ , no, but the longer Andrew knew the other young man, the more improbable and impossible he seemed, the more he was this fantastical pipedream that Andrew _wanted_ so much.

The more he knew he’d never get him.

“Do you know he speaks several languages?” he told Bee. “French and German, a good bit of Japanese and Spanish, and bits of Russian, Italian and Flemish. He’ll add Chinese on to that before he graduates and goes on to play Exy.” Though Andrew could easily imagine how the Moriyamas could put to good use an ‘asset’’ who was a polyglot and traveled extensively.

Bee gave him an appraising look for a moment before she finished her drink, too. “It’s not often you take such an interest in someone.”

“He manages to _be_ interesting,” Andrew shot back. “As well as helpful when it comes me keeping my promise in regards to Kevin.”

“And the fact that he’s a very attractive young man as well as ‘interesting’, does that have anything to do with things?” When he gave her a blank look for that question, she smiled. “It’s difficult _not_ to see anything in regards to Ravens these days, especially when he’s been featured in that one racquet campaign. Those eyes of his are quite striking.”

“He’s _useful_ ,” Andrew stressed. “And a Raven.”

Bee was quiet and waited until he returned to his seat before she got up to make some hot chocolate for herself. “He’s attractive, helpful and interesting… and a Raven, which means he’s out of reach, isn’t he?” She turned in time to catch Andrew frozen at that last comment. “Oh Andrew… really?” She abandoned the hot chocolate mix to step into the center of the office, closer to him but still not close enough to touch. “Are you… do you wish he was ‘in reach’?”

Damn Bee, she knew he didn’t like to lie – she was just about the only person who _did_ take his words for the truth. “It doesn’t matter because he isn’t,” Andrew snapped as he fought the urge to throw his mug at her stupid glass figurines and slammed it down on the small end table instead. “He’s a fucking Raven and- he’s stuck at Edgar Allan and it’s all just the chemicals in my head which will go away this summer.” He’d come off the drugs and stop feeling these _stupid_ emotions, would stop _wanting_ Neil and thinking of _impossible_ things like a future in Exy and seeing a certain redhead out on the court.

He just needed to stop thinking of stupid things and get over Drake and go back to the store room at Eden’s with Roland, let out some frustration and… well, it would be like it was before, which was fine. Andrew was a fool to believe that he’d ever have anything more than that.

Bee crouched down as if to make herself less imposing. “Andrew… I’ll help you with the meds once the semester is over, but you need to consider the possibility that… that maybe it’s not the drugs, okay? That maybe you’ve progressed to the point where you’ve found someone you think you can trust and want in that way.”

Right, someone as broken and fucked up as him could actually be feeling something for another person, and it was for an equally fucked up soul like Neil? Andrew started laughing at that and didn’t stop until Bee sighed and returned to her seat with a new mug of hot chocolate. “Oh Bee, that’s so amusing it might actually keep me from killing those annoying teammates of mine at afternoon practice today. _Maybe._ ”

“Then I’ve done my good deed of the day,” she said, her tone a little sour.

They talked about general things after that, about what books Andrew was reading and Bee's plans for spring break, until the session was over. Such a shame that whatever bit of weak amusement he'd felt after spending time with Bee was ruined when he had to put up with Aaron's continuing antagonism and Kevin's fanaticism for a ridiculous game, with Yee acting like a hyper puppy eager to play and Wilds a stupid cheerleader who didn't know when to shut up.

He just wanted to sit on the bench and sleep, not run around and stop a damn ball, and got yelled at by Wymack when he pointed out that Renee was perfectly fine in the goal for practice - she _liked_ the exercise, the freak.

So of course there was another lecture from Kevin 'Exy junkie' Day on their way back to the dorms about how Andrew needed to care about something (no, he _didn't_ ) and how they needed to be on top of their game against the Tornadoes that Friday. "We're not going to win unless we give it our all."

"Imagine that, _Andrew_ caring about something other than fucking things up," Aaron sneered from his spot in the back seat.

"Jeez, Aaron, can't you give it a break for once?" Nicky pleaded.

"Not when he's always such an asshole."

Andrew slammed on the brakes and made his brother drop his precious phone, which meant it was another fun-filled night in the dorms for the 'monsters'.

Thursday they watched the Ravens defeat the University of Michigan’s Wolverines before Kevin and Andrew went out to the court so Kevin could get his late night practice in, and Friday... Friday Kevin was proven right about 'giving it their all' as the Tornadoes were impossible to beat. The Foxes lost by _one_ point in overtime, eight to seven, and only the fact that the current round of play-offs were decided by cumulative points meant that they were still in contention. Andrew expected to see his teammates slumped with defeat in the locker room, but Wilds, Reynolds and Boyd were defiant and going on about how they'd rally against Binghamton the following week, and even Kevin surprised him by agreeing with them.

The most shocking of all? Gordon punched a locker and vowed to take down the New York team. It had finally occurred to the asshole that no recruiters were coming around for the Foxes (for him), not when Wymack had argued with Kevin over four potential rookies for the upcoming season. Yet instead of being bitter about it and giving up, the hotheaded striker appeared determined to prove a point to everyone, especially the recruiters, and play the best he ever had in his collegiate career so far.

That Saturday, Andrew asked Neil what his favorite book was, and listened as a soft-voiced Neil admitted to him that it was ‘Le Petit Prince’ by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, that his mother had read to him the French version when he had been a child under the guise of teaching him the language since his father hadn’t believed in anything remotely resembling children’s stories or fairy tales. He’d long since memorized the book in both languages and often would recite it as a means of staying awake while he and his mother had driven across Europe and Canada.

Moreau spoke up at one point, something in French about sunsets and being sad, and Neil responded about flowers and thorns (or so Andrew thought). The clear affection in their voices made the coffee Andrew was sipping just then turn bitter in his mouth despite all the sugar he’d put in it, and he made a mental note to pick up the damn book for some reason.

Back at Palmetto it was more Exy and more annoying practice and more of Aaron thinking he could guilt-trip Andrew by giving him a cold shoulder (did someone not realize that Andrew didn’t _believe_ in guilt?). Nicky and Renee and even Wilds made some comments on how things would improve if the twins found some sort of common ground, which Andrew easily ignored, long used to meddlers who didn’t know better. When Wymack even tried to say a few words, Andrew gave him a wide grin and told him to worry about the rest of his little pity projects – if he wanted to hand out relationship advice, to talk to Yee who was going to be dumped at any moment now that his Raven girlfriend was getting more assists per game than he was.

Neil’s question that weekend was why Andrew had turned down Riko’s offer to join the Ravens.

Andrew scoffed at it after he blew out a couple of smoke rings. “Because I can spot a psycho from a mile away,” he informed his little birdy. “No way in hell was I going to play for him.” Even as high on the meds as he’d been, he’d recognized that gleam of possessiveness and eagerness to have a new toy to play with in Riko’s dark eyes, that particular way of looking at another person as if they were nothing more than an object to dissect and break at one’s leisure. Oh, all those years in the foster system and juvie had done _one_ thing right for Andrew.

“Takes one to know one?” Neil asked, but Andrew could tell from his teasing tone that he wasn’t serious – well, he was only partly serious about that jab.

“Pot calling the kettle much?” Andrew shot back, and felt that damn warmth in his chest at Neil’s slight chuckle even though he hadn’t inhaled again on his cigarette yet.

“Well, it’s a fine family tradition I have to uphold, after all,” Neil told him while Moreau made a groaning sound. “Such a shame so few other people pick up on that, no?” There wasn’t any amusement in his voice anymore. “Would save all of us a lot of grief if they did and had put the prick down already.”

“I wouldn’t be suffering Kevin if they had, would I?” Andrew said as he flicked ash off to the side.

“Better you than us,” Neil huffed, which led to a discussion on how much of a pain in Andrew’s ass the striker had been the last few days before Neil had to ‘leave’ for a study session.

‘Pain in the ass’ summed up Kevin rather well as the Foxes headed toward their game with Binghamton, determined to gain the necessary points that would lead them to the next step in the playoffs. The only break they took from practicing and memorizing statistics and watching old games was to meet up in the lounge at the stadium on Thursday to watch the odd teams play against each other, the Ravens against Maryland and Penn State against USC since it was the first time that the Big Three were pitted against each other so early in the championship season.

Andrew sat on the loveseat with Nicky and Kevin while he ate several slices of pizza (Kevin had been shot down on what the Foxes would have for dinner and had to make due with all those ‘useless’ carbs) as Edgar Allan made Maryland look like a low-ranked team with the way they all but shut them down, Moreau and the other backliners helping to guard the goal with a ferociousness that made even Boyd nod in approval while Riko and Neil worked together to score point after point. Andrew caught Kevin staring at the screen while the duo were on it and rubbing his hand with a bleak expression on his face, which only got a little better when it was Neil and Patel running around destroying the other team’s defense.

Kevin seemed to rally a little when it was his precious Trojans playing against Penn State, but by that point it was the rest of the Foxes who seemed at a loss for how they could possibly go against teams who played at such an advanced level without a natural disaster interceding on their behalf. Kevin, ever the cheerful soul, ranted about how they didn’t have any hope of ever beating the Big Three because they were simply terrible, which led to Wilds, Boyd and Reynolds booing at him until he had to leave.

It was a long, boring ride to New York the next day, during which Andrew either read or napped, only to arrive and discover that the Bearcats weren’t the friendliest of fellows, how sad. Their fans were loud and obnoxious and seemed determined that the Foxes would lose, and only became louder and angrier when Andrew’s team went out on court all fired up and ready to win back those points they’d lost.

It wasn’t that Andrew gave a damn about the game, but he thought about that stupid look on Kevin’s face during the Raven game and Neil’s cocky smile at Patel and Moreau when the camera had focused on him last night, and decided that he didn’t want to hear his little birdy mock him about getting to sleep in _just_ yet. So he might have put a _little_ more effort into shutting down the goal than usual, may have felt the tiniest bit of satisfaction in hearing the crowd roar in fury at how the Bearcats were turned away whenever they got past Nicky and Aaron and Boyd.

He hated having to exert himself, but dammit, at least it made the nausea and growing itch of withdrawal a bit more bearable than usual, as did the stunned expression on Wymack’s face at half-time.

Renee didn’t fail so much for the second half of the game and kept the score down, so the Foxes won, much to the Bearcats and their fans’ displeasure. They didn’t waste any time showering and getting the hell out of Binghamton, not when the stadium appeared a hair’s breadth away from breaking out into a riot at any moment, and bottles (if not more) were thrown at the Foxes’ bus as they pulled out of the parking lot.

Since they got back pre-dawn on Saturday morning, everyone slept in before they went their separate ways for spring break. Andrew had texted Neil to let him know they’d talk on Sunday for once, and looked forward to the call after a night spent at Eden’s.

He almost gave Roland the signal to meet him in the store room that night… but he was still a bit tired from the game and Aaron was being a righteous asshole, so he thought maybe waiting another week would be best to see if he could tolerate allowing someone that close again, in touching Roland and kissing him if not more. That and… and he kept picturing pale blue eyes and a dusting of freckles and bright auburn hair.

It was quiet in the house when he woke late Sunday morning, put on the coffee before he took a hot shower to help clear his head and wash away any remaining sweat from the night before, and went out onto the back porch with his usual cigarette and cup of sweet, milky coffee. He was halfway through both when his phone rang at the agreed upon time.

“Just so you know, Susan says you’re not too bad for a runt she could throw halfway across the court,” Neil said by way of ‘hello’.

Taking a moment to mentally ‘page’ through his notes on Ravens’ statistics, Andrew snorted at that since Susan Ivanova, their starting goalie, might actually be able to do that since she had about a foot on him and biceps to make Wilds envious. “I had better stats than her during our game with you.”

“But she has better stats overall because you’re a lazy go-“

“Kick your scrawny ass,” Andrew sang out as he flicked ash off to the side.

“Hmm, but since you’re not going to make it to the finals, _how_ are you going to do that?” Neil asked in a too-sweet tone of voice. “Gonna come up here to pay me a special visit?”

“Maybe,” Andrew drawled. “I’m sure they’ll let me in if they know it’s to teach _you_ some manners.”

Moreau muttered something along the lines of ‘maybe, he’s not wrong,’ in French, which made Neil groan and call him… a crusty bread? Andrew frowned at that and shook his head, uncertain that he’d heard it right.

“Don’t let me interrupt your conversation,” Andrew reminded the two birdies. “I’m just sitting here while you’re oh so rude.”

“Ha, as if you’ve been a poster child for politeness all your life.” For some reason, Neil sounded rather doubtful of Andrew’s stellar manners, which caused him to gasp as he flicked his cigarette into the weed-studded yard.

“I _never_ heard such slander,” Andrew insisted. “Well, outside of-“ He tensed as the back door leading from the kitchen was thrown open and a scowling Aaron stepped onto the porch.

“What the hell?” His brother was dressed in jeans and a lightweight PSU hoodie, so it didn’t appear as if he’d just rolled out of bed. “Who are you talking to? Is it a girl? Do you have a _girlfriend_?”

“I have to go,” Andrew told Neil, who’d gone silent on the other end of the line.

“Yeah,” Neil breathed out as if disappointed. “I gathered.”

Such a smart little birdie. Andrew hung up and set the phone aside as he gave his brother a mocking grin. “No, not quite. I can talk to the opposite sex without being made a fool of, such as Renee. So-“

“Don’t!” Aaron stepped forward and appeared to look for the phone as if to snatch it up to check it, but seemed to think better of it when he got closer to Andrew. “I _know_ you’re not talking to Renee! You’re out here almost every week on the phone at the same time!” As he shouted, Nicky came out as well, his expression worried as he glanced back and forth between the two of them. “I can hear your voice up in my bedroom, you asshole!”

Andrew had believed Aaron asleep enough to not pick up on the conversations, especially since he usually didn’t talk that loud. The sound must carry more than he’d thought, dammit. “So? All I’m doing is _talking_ ,” he said as he gathered his phone in one hand and mug in the other before he stood up.

Nicky gave a nervous laugh at that. “Yeah, but it’s _you_ , Andrew. You don’t talk to people! So who is it? Some cute girl?” He grinned when Andrew didn’t say anything. “A cute guy maybe? Come on, make me happy and say it’s a cute guy!”

That made Aaron gag and push their cousin aside as if to make him go away. “Why do you have to be so gross?”

“Aw, what’s wrong with Andrew sitting out here having phone sex with a cute guy?”

Fed up with them both, Andrew dumped the remains of his coffee on the floor near their feet to make them get out of his way. “It’s _not_ a girl and I’m not having phone sex. He’s a Raven and it’s how I find out when Riko’s about to fuck with Kevin,” he admitted to make the two morons shut up.

Of course Aaron followed him into the kitchen while Nicky wailed about getting coffee on his favorite socks (as if there was such a thing). “Wait, is this that guy you have that weird thing about, the redhead?” He continued to crowd Andrew until Andrew spun around, a wide grin on his face and his mug held up as if to shove it down his twin’s throat, which reminded Aaron of _boundaries_. “The striker, uhm….”

“Josten, the cutie’s named Josten,” Nicky said as he hopped around pulling off his socks.

“Yeah! _Josten_.” Aaron’s eyes narrowed as he folded his arms over his chest. “You’re talking to _Josten_ every week?”

“Because of Kevin,” Andrew gritted out; he debated more coffee before he threw the mug into the sink and decided that he’d run out to grab some food since it would get him out of the house before he did something that went against a certain promise he’d made if someone didn’t _shut up_ soon.

“Right,” Aaron drawled. “Because you talk to people, just like Nicky said. I think there’s something more to it,” for a moment he looked disgusted before he shook his head, “and you won’t admit it. Which means you’re breaking our agreement just as much as I am.”

Andrew could only laugh at that bit of… of insanity. “Oh, someone needs to schedule a session or two with Bee, you’ve got a _bad_ case of delusions right there.”

Aaron stared at him for a couple of seconds before scoffing. “Maybe.” Then he turned around and left, probably to go hide in his room for a few hours.

Meanwhile, Nicky continued to eye Andrew in a speculative manner for some reason. “Stare anymore and you’ll lose an eye,” Andrew warned as he went to grab his keys.

“Hey!” Nicky all of a sudden found the coffee maker to be of great interest. “Uhm, you know you can talk to me about… well, you can talk to me.”

Kevin was going to get a bucket of ice water dumped on his comatose ass if he’d drunk all of the alcohol in the house, Andrew decided as he stalked out of the kitchen.

*******

Neil wasn’t sure what was going on with Andrew after the abrupt end of their last phone call, but he was more than busy himself with the accelerated schedule of ‘spring break’ at the Nest. Once more on shortened days, he dealt with the near-constant practices while attempting to complete assignments for the approaching end of semester and _Riko_.

Not even the fact that Penn State had lost to USC the previous week and probably would be eliminated early in the championship season that year seemed to make the prick happy, not when his father had been admitted to the hospital again, not when Neil had his Hatford shadows in the Nest. Not when the Foxes had managed to defeat Binghamton and score enough points to keep them in the running (for another game or two), disproving Tetsuji’s statement that they wouldn’t make it past the initial round, disproving Riko’s claims that Day was washed up and not good for anything other than being an assistant coach.

There wasn’t much Neil could do about it, other than watch out of Jean and Marley and Meg the best he could, to focus on Exy and give the game his all. To not provide any openings for either Moriyama to tear into him, especially since there was so much attention on the Ravens as they moved to claim another division title, as it appeared that some people were eager to see Riko lose his crown without Day at his side.

Neil was all for Riko’s pride taking a hit, but the rest of the Ravens worked too damn hard and gave up too much for them to suffer because of the prick. Meg cried yet again at spending another break away from her family while Marley showed up to morning practice with a bruised cheek and a swollen lip after a game where she scored four goals (the only reason Neil didn’t step in was that Tollis had a black eye and seemed to nurse a sore abdomen), and they weren’t alone. Susan and Amy and Ben each had given up something as well, had fought to get their number, along with the other Ravens.

No one was taking that championship away from them, not without meeting them as equals, without _beating_ them on the court. Not without the Ravens making them pay for that win the same way that the Ravens had gotten it, with a lot of pain and effort and sweat, and a bit of blood as well.

He was a bit surprised when the ‘mid-day’ practice was finished and Akagi informed him that he and Marley would sit in on a small press conference along with Riko; Tetsuji hadn’t been present for the practice, but that wasn’t too uncommon since their head coach was still recruiting new players for the upcoming season. Neil nodded to Jean as he pulled on _his_ own Ravens sweatshirt for once and followed the assistant coach into the hallway, where an excited Marley was already waiting, her hair pulled back in a neat ponytail and dressed in a similar manner. His ‘shadow’ for the day, Bren, gave a slight nod and trailed after them, dressed in blue jeans, a black t-shirt and black blazer as if to pass himself off as part of the staff.

They went down the Red Hall to a large room set aside for the press, and found Riko already there and smiling as per his ‘social’ persona. Once Neil and Marley were seated, the three of them were asked questions about the Ravens and the upcoming games, with Riko answering the most of them. It was clear that Neil and Marley were there to make Riko look better, to make him appear to be an affable, generous person who picked two unknown rookies from the masses and gave them a chance to prove themselves on the best NCAA Class I team while under his ‘tutelage’.

It was a bunch of shit, but Neil and Marley smiled and went on about how much they owed everything to Riko and Tetsuji, as well as Jean and the rest of the Ravens for working with them and helping them train, well aware of what it would cost them (and Jean and Meg) if they didn’t play along, if they didn’t placate Riko and his ego. It was all a show to dispel any talk about how Riko was a jealous bastard who couldn’t stand any competition, who might do something like break his own partner’s (brother’s) hand to retain that precious ‘1’ on his cheek, his rank as ‘king’.

During a pause in the questions, Riko glanced at his phone and read something which made his face go blank before he excused himself, telling the reporters that they could direct the remaining questions to Neil and Marley. That was odd, but Neil supposed that he might have a message from one of his other teams – the Chargers or perhaps the US Court, and was distracted by a request for him and Marley to sit closer together for a few pictures. The rest of the questions were about how it felt to be a rookie and going into the semi-finals, things along those lines, and Neil was grateful for Marley’s confident presence since she handled everything much better than he did and took the brunt of questions.

They were stuck in there for another half an hour by the time the reporters had enough ‘sound bytes’ and photos to appease their various magazines or news sites, and Neil felt exhausted by the end of it. However, a jolt of adrenalin raced through him as soon as he stepped out into the hallway and saw the grim expression on Bren’s broad face.

“What is it?”

Bren herded him down the hall, out of earshot of any stragglers from the press, with Marley quick to hurry after them. “Stuart let me know that Kengo’s dead,” he said, his deep voice barely more than a whisper. “You’re to- Neil!”

 _Riko_. What were the chances that Riko had been notified during the press conference? Neil ran straight to his room, his thoughts focused on Jean, on getting to his partner, on making sure that _Jean_ was safe, while Bren yelled at him to _slow the fuck_ down.

He rounded the corner and barreled down to the hallway, barely stopping when he reached the room at last. Marley was right behind him when he threw open the door, and added her weight to his as he slammed into Federov.

Federov, Bautista and Johnson were there, helping to hold onto Jean as Riko stood there with a bloody knife in hand. Words flew from Neil’s mouth in a muddle of languages as he managed to pull himself away from a cursing Federov and left him to deal with an enraged Marley who overwhelmed the bastard with her smaller size by continuously lashing out with her fists at the large backliner. However, before Neil could throw himself at Riko, his hand sliding into his right pocket for his own knife, Bren was there to grab him by the arms and haul him out of reach.

“You fuckin’ chav let me go! _I’m gonna_ -“

“Get out of here,” Bren ordered as he wrapped his right arm around Neil’s upper body, more than big and strong enough to do it, and his left hand across Neil’s mouth to shut him up. “Leave the kid alone and get the fuck outta here, all of you!” He ignored Neil biting his hand and kicking at his legs. “ _Now_ , dammit!”

Riko backed away from a bleeding Jean to glare at him, Bautista and Johnson staring at Bren in shock and a bruised Federov finally managing to shove a swearing Marley aside. “You don’t tell me-“

“I report to Ichirou Moriyama, so _yes_ I fuckin’ do. Now go.”

Mention of his older brother made Riko’s dark eyes grow wide and he hesitated only a moment before sneering with what was obviously false bravado. “I was done anyway, he’s not fun anymore.”

Bren waited until all four of them left before he dropped Neil. “Fuck, but you’re a stubborn little shit,” he complained as he shook his bleeding left hand.

“Get Meg,” Neil ordered as he stumbled on his feet for a moment and then fell down next to a groaning Jean. “Get her before that bastard does!” he shouted while Marley scurried over to grab the med kit.

“All right, all right, you stay here and don’t go causing any trouble,” Bren ordered as he strode out of the room with his phone in his right hand; Neil didn’t pay him any attention as he looked over Jean, as he took in the darkening bruises around his partner’s eyes, the bleeding lips, the two twisted fingers on Jean’s left hand and the three cuts on his chest.

“ _How bad is it_?” Neil asked in a soft voice as he tucked back the hair falling onto Jean’s face.

“ _You shouldn’t have done that_ ,” Jean argued, his voice weak with pain as he opened his eyes. “ _He’ll be twice as angry next time_.”

Meaning the vicious little bastard would be intent on inflicting twice as much damage, maybe even allowing the others some ‘fun’. Neil’s hands clenched into fists as he stepped back when Marley returned with the med kit. “Help him,” he told her while he went to fetch his burner phone.

“Uhm, okay.” She gave him a curious look but didn’t ask any questions, just set the kit down by Jean before she went to the fridge for some icepacks. Wasn’t it ‘funny’ how she knew what to do to help patch them back together by then?

Oh yes, so damn funny.

While she murmured to Jean and pulled out some gauze to help staunch the bleeding cuts on his chest (Neil would have to stitch at least one of them closed), Neil forced himself to take a deep breath as he powered on the phone and ignored the text sent by his uncle as he pulled up the one number he hadn’t had a need to call yet. He expected it to go into voice mail considering everything, and blinked in surprise when it was answered.

“Yes?” Ichirou sounded a bit remote, which was to be expected, considering that his father had just died.

“ _Ah, I’m sorry_ ,” Neil said in Japanese, all of a sudden at a loss for words. “ _About your father_.”

“ _Thank you, but this is not the best time for condolences. If there’s nothing else, then_ -“

“ _There is_ ,” Neil said in a rush as he struggled to think of the right words to say. “ _I… I want a new deal with you_.”

There was a slight pause before Ichirou spoke. “What type of deal?” Now there was a hint of interest in his smooth voice.

“ _I want you to… to extend your protection to some people_ ,” Neil explained as he hoped that he picked the right things to say.

“What people?”

“Jean Moreau, Marley Patel, Meg Curtis.”

“I see.” There was another pause. “ _Do you understand what the price will entail? You don’t have much to give me, other than yourself._ ”

Neil closed his eyes and forced aside the panic he felt at the question, the sensation of hands on his body, Federov’s breath against his neck, of the walls closing in on him. “ _I do_ ,” he answered when he felt as if his voice was his own.

“ _Tell me what brought this on before I agree to anything_ ,” Ichirou demanded.

“ _Riko_ ,” Neil said, with all the loathing he felt for that person shading his voice. “ _He’s not taking news about Kengo very well, and if I don’t do something now then you’ll lose at least one Raven, maybe three since I stopped him from breaking Jean already_. _I don’t know if I can do it a second time, though_.”

“ _That probably has to do with why your uncle stepped out to answer a call_.” Ichirou was quiet for a few seconds again. “ _Gather your people together, you’ll be coming here so we can complete our negotiations. I’ll see you soon, Nathaniel_.” Then the line went dead.

Neil stared at his phone in confusion while Jean called out his name, which made him go over to help Marley with his friend. “ _What did you do_?” Jean asked in French, the words distorted somewhat because of his split lips.

“ _What I had to do. Now be still while I deal with these cuts_.” Neil avoided Jean’s gaze while he used a disinfectant wipe to clean his hands and had just started to stitch the worst of the cuts together when Bren finally returned with a panicked Meg.

“Oh my god, Riko is-“

Bren cut her off as he held up his phone and gave Neil a narrow look. “What the hell did you do, kid? I just got a call telling me to get the four of you to the airport without any naffing around, and your uncle is _not_ a happy man right now.”

“Airport?” Marley paused in wrapping some bandages around Jean’s splinted fingers to give Neil a speculative look. “Who the hell did you call?”

“ _Don’t tell me it was Ichirou_ ,” Jean groaned. “ ** _Please_**.”

“Be quiet,” Neil told him as he focused on finishing the stitches and aware of Jean’s intent gaze. “It gets us out of here, so everyone just shut up and then let’s go.”

“ _You called him_ ,” Jean accused in weary French.

“ _I had no choice, did you want to stay here and let Riko tear you into pieces_?” He finally looked up when the cut was sewed together. “ _The current deal only extends to me, there’s only so long Bren and the others can hold him back. So I’ll do what I have to if it keeps you and the girls safe_.”

Jean appeared even more pained right then. “ _You’re a devil, not our guardian angel, dammit_.”

Neil gave him a lopsided smile as he tucked back the bangs that didn’t seem to want to remain out of Jean’s beautiful grey eyes. “ _I’m whatever will keep you safe_.” He’d _do_ whatever would keep his friend safe, because he refused to lose someone else who mattered to him.

Marley helped him to tape and bandage the rest of Jean’s wounds and then get a couple of pain pills into the grouchy bastard before tugging on the loosest sweatshirt that Jean owned, then everyone grabbed some coats from the closet while Bren escorted them out of the Nest. There wasn’t any sign of Riko as they left, which was good, though they garnered some concerned looks from a few Ravens.

Bren took to swearing when he checked his phone near the airport, especially since it seemed that they were flying to New York City on a private plane. There was some more ‘what the hell did you do?’s and ‘Stuart is going to _kill_ me’s, but all Neil cared about was they got out of Charleston without attracting any attention or any delays.

Neil, Marley and Meg fussed over Jean and made him as comfortable as possible on the plane while Bren had a shot or two of what smelled to be bourbon once they were in the air. Then it seemed to sink in to Meg what was happening. “Oh my god, we left Edgar Allan! Are we still on the team?”

“Yes,” Neil assured her; whatever his deal with Ichirou cost him, he’d make sure that Tetsuji couldn’t touch any of them for what they’d done. “I’m just getting you three out of there until Tetsuji can rein Riko in.” He wondered if Tetsuji had left the Nest because of Kengo’s death.

“What the hell happened? What set off that little shit-turd this time?” Marley asked as she helped Jean sip some coffee that an attendant (who apparently came with the plane) had provided.

Neil supposed they deserved to know some of the truth since they were so caught up in it now. “Kengo Moriyama died today and Riko’s not taking it very well.” Jean snorted at that but didn’t say anything. “Maybe that’s where Tetsuji is right now.”

“It is,” Bren admitted as he came over with the bottle of bourbon, some of which he poured into Jean’s mug, which earned him a grateful nod from the backliner. “I’m going to rip Nakamura’s nuts off for not giving me a head’s up that the old fuck left this morning when things took a bad turn, I was just told something about some recruiting shit.” Neil nodded at that. “Davis is looking into who might have tipped off the old fuck, but long story short, Tetsuji’s welcome at the funeral but Riko’s not.”

“Good, who would want the little shit-turd around,” Marley spat with obvious hatred and for once, Meg didn’t try to chastise her or defend Riko.

“Yet we’re going?” Meg asked with obvious confusion.

“Uhm, not to the funeral,” Neil told her, at least rather certain that they wouldn’t be anywhere near the ceremony or any formal functions. “But I need to talk to Ichirou and I didn’t want to leave you at the Nest with Riko so….” He shrugged and ignored Jean’s pained look just then. “You get a day or two in the city?”

“I suppose, though we didn’t bring anything other than our phones and ID’s,” Meg said as she held up her phone with its EA Ravens’ case.

“I’m sure the boss will take care of everything,” Bren assured her, which made her smile. “Just… don’t mention anything about the Moriyamas in regards to this little jaunt, right?”

“Right!” Meg and Marley were quick to promise that, and allowed Bren to distract them with stories about London during the short flight to the East Coast.

There was a large SUV with tinted windows when they landed in LaGuardia, which took them back to the Lowell hotel. Neil wasn’t surprised to find Stuart waiting for them in the lobby along with another tall bodyguard, his expression bearing that awful tightness that had been on Neil’s mother’s face when she’d been furious at him for something.

Stuart hustled the five of them into an elevator and gave the girls two key cards as well as a business card. “Declan here will take you around wherever you go, so don’t leave the fucking room without him, you understand?” He waited until both Marley and Meg nodded in turn, while Declan, around the same age as Bren - mid to late 20’s and just as muscular - gave them a friendly grin. “Buy whatever the hell you want, within reason.” He seemed to think of something as he stared at Neil, who was helping to prop up Jean. “Fuck that, buy whatever the hell you want.”

Neil had a feeling that Ichirou would be paying for the girls’ shopping trip.

“Ah, okay.” Marley glanced back and forth between Stuart and Neil and jumped a little when the elevator came to a stop. “Are you going to be all right?” she asked Neil.

“I’m fine,” he assured her while both Stuart and Jean snorted in derision.

“Right.” Marley sighed and gave him a quick hug. “Watch over him, Crusty,” she told Jean as she got off the elevator with Meg and Declan.

“Take care,” Meg said as she waved ‘goodbye’, right before the doors closed.

“They’re cute, I hope they’re worth the mess you’re in now, kiddo,” Stuart said as he punched the floor right beneath the penthouse level. “What the _hell_ did I say about not doing something stupid?”

“ _Riko_ ,” Neil tried to explain as he hitched Jean up a little higher, heavy bastard that he was. “It’s because of Riko, okay?”

Stuart finally shut up and looked him over, looked _Jean_ over and sighed, mood no longer so churlish. “You’re Mary’s child, dammit,” he said as he rubbed at his face, suddenly appearing tired. “One of my people will be by to look him over, okay? Ichirou wants to talk to you later.”

“I know.” Neil refused to let any of the emotions he felt at that show and gave his uncle a slight smile. “It’ll be all right.”

“ _You’re a fool_ ,” Jean muttered even as he leaned some more against Neil.

“On that we agree,” Stuart said, but didn’t say anything else since they’d reached their floor.

Bren helped Neil get Jean into the suite and onto the king-sized bed, then Stuart gave Neil a lingering hug and an admonishment to not go anywhere without Bren before he left ‘to take care of business’.

The bodyguard/enforcer made himself comfortable in the living area while Neil tended to Jean, helping to settle him on the bed and fetching him some water, and about half an hour later an older man with a faint Caribbean accent arrived with a briefcase and a garment bag. He noticed Neil’s reluctance to approach him or allow him near Jean, but Bren vouched for the man (Robeisy) and despite him being around Nathan’s age, he had a calm demeanor and a steady gaze so Neil pushed down his unease as he perched on the nearby chaise lounge to watch as the man tended to Jean.

Robeisy praised Neil’s skill with stitches and made sure that Jean’s fingers were set properly, and declared that it didn’t seem likely that he had a concussion. After checking him for any other internal injuries and re-cleaning and bandaging the cuts, he left some pain meds and ice packs for Jean. “I think what you need the most is some rest,” he said, his deep, accented voice kind as he produced another small blister pack from his briefcase (Neil supposed that it was less noticeable than a satchel or some other type of bag). “These aren’t too strong and I’m only giving you a few, the same with the pain medication, but it’ll help for the next couple of days, yes? Take them and get some rest.”

At first Jean remained blank-faced, much as he’d been during the examination, but then he glanced at Neil who nodded. “I… thank you,” he said as relief flashed over his bruised face.

“You’re welcome.” The doctor (informal or otherwise, he seemed skilled and Neil trusted Stuart to provide them with someone good) smiled at Jean before he left. Neil went to fetch his friend a fresh bottle of water and came back to find Jean examining the various pills.

“ _Go ahead and take them, we’re safe for now_ ,” he assured his partner.

“ _But you still have to face Ichirou and-“_

Neil sat down on the edge of the bed and handed Jean the bottle. “ _Take them_ ,” he repeated, which made Jean frown as much as he could with his split lips. “ _You can’t do much about it except be here when I return, so take them now and get some rest, like the man said_.”

Jean was quiet for a moment before he fumbled a couple of pills free and washed them down with water, then grabbed Neil’s hand with his right one. “ _Don’t give too much of yourself away, dammit, we’re not worth it_.”

Neil could only smile at that and hold on to Jean’s hand until the pills kicked in and his friend fell asleep, because Jean _was_ worth it. Jean was worth so much and more, was worth everything Neil had to give if it meant never having to see him hurt like this again, to know that he hadn’t let him (or the girls) down like he had his mother.

He was never going to mourn someone like that again, to suffer through that pain and know it was his fault, that he hadn’t been strong enough or fast enough, that someone he cared about had paid too high a price for him.

Never again.

Once he was certain that Jean wasn’t going to wake up, he moved from the bed to check out the garment bag that Robeisy had brought along, and found a complete change of clothes – shoes, pants, a soft cashmere sweater and even a pair of socks and boxer-briefs. Blushing a little at how everything would fit, Neil almost missed the note that someone would be there to pick him up at 4pm.

Thrown off by the Ravens’ sixteen hour days, he fumbled his ‘official’ phone out of his pocket and realized that he had a little more than half an hour to go, and hurried into the extravagant bathroom to get ready. By the time he was done and dressed, there were a couple of messages from the girls gushing about their room and asking about Jean, as well as Neil’s plans for the evening.

He told them that Jean had been checked out and was mostly all right, and to go out with Declan to buy some clothes and have dinner since he would be ‘busy’. It wasn’t much longer after that when there was a knock on the door to the suite, which Bren jumped up to answer.

It was another one of Ichirou’s bodyguards, so Bren stepped out of the way. “I’ll be here to watch over your friend,” he assured Neil. “And, well, if you need anything, call me.”

Neil almost smiled at that, especially since Ichirou’s bodyguard didn’t seem amused by that comment. “I’ll be fine,” he assured his ‘shadow’. “Though Jean and I will need some clothes for tomorrow.”

“Got it,” Bren said as he pulled out his phone, his expression thoughtful as he took in Neil’s new outfit.

It didn’t take long for Neil to be escorted to the penthouse since it was one floor up. There were a couple of bodyguards in the main living area, but Neil was taken into the lavishly decorated master bedroom with a terrace complete with a small waterfall which overlooked the city’s impressive skyline.

Ichirou stood by a fireplace in the room, his attention seemingly focused on the flames until the bodyguard closed the door behind Neil. Then he went over to a piece of antique furniture set up as a bar, the cut glass bottles containing various liquors reflected in the gleaming dark wood, and poured two glasses of what Neil took to be whiskey.

He accepted the golden-hued alcohol and held the glass still long enough for Ichirou to clink them together before tossing it back with a fleeting gratitude, uncaring for the way it burned down his throat to settle with a slightly queasy heat in his stomach.

“So Marley Patel and Megan Curtis are currently on their way to Saks 5th Avenue and Jean Moreau should be able to play after some adequate rest, from what your uncle’s medic has reported,” Ichirou informed him in a casual tone of voice. “There was a note that if the abuse had continued much longer, he would have to sit out a few games if not the rest of the season.”

Talking about the others helped to settle Neil’s nerves a little. “Yes, fortunately I found out about Ken- ah, your father’s death in time to put a stop to him beating up Jean.” He could still recall the strong urge to take his knife and plunge it into Riko’s neck, to stab the prick until there was no chance for him to ever get back up and hurt anyone again.

“Yes, my father’s death.” Ichirou finished his own drink in a couple of swallows; he was dressed in black slacks and a dark grey shirt left unbuttoned at the neck and with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the most ‘informal’ that Neil had ever seen. His dark hair was slightly disheveled, too, and he appeared a bit tired as well – Neil supposed it might be grief, though he didn’t know anything about giving a damn about one’s father other _than_ to wish him dead. “I am now Lord Moriyama, and that makes Riko a nuisance. However, he’s a popular nuisance and serves a purpose, doesn’t he?”

Neil blinked in confusion as he held on to the empty glass tumbler to give his hands something to do. “My lord?”

“I’m rambling, ignore me.” Ichirou tugged the glass from Neil’s hands and set it aside, along with his own, his attention now focused on Neil. “Something for another time, but right now we have other matters to discuss. You reached out to me about a new deal, yes? I extend my protection to the three whom you’ve taken under your wing, as it were, and you give me what I want.”

Neil’s mouth went dry as he nodded. “Yes… yes my lord.” It just… did Ichirou really want him? Why?

“Once again, so encouraging.” The corners of Ichirou’s mouth twitched upward as he reached out to gently grasp Neil’s chin. “You said you did, but do you truly understand what that means? I’ve respected your reluctance until now, but this entails more than just kisses. I thought you didn’t like people touching you.”

“I….” Neil forced himself to take a slow breath as he remembered his promise to tell Ichirou the truth. “I don’t like pain. I don’t like being forced. I don’t… I don’t really know anything else, to be honest, but you don’t… you don’t frighten me for some reason. So ‘yes’.”

Ichirou continued to stare at him for several seconds before he sighed. “You are so terribly _honest_ , aren’t you?” He stroked his thumb along Neil’s lower lip. “I am married, which is not commonly known. Which is _not_ to be commonly known,” he said as his fingers dug into Neil’s jaw for a moment. “I am married and in a few months I’ll be a father, which is expected of me as the new Lord Moriyama, but also not to be commonly known.”

“Congratulations?” Neil breathed out, confused by the sudden turn of conversation, especially when considering what they were negotiating.

That made Ichirou’s smile strengthen. “Thank you, though as I said, it’s what is _expected_ of me.” His smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared. “As long as I meet those expectations, I’m allowed some simple pleasures.” Once again, his fingers tightened against Neil’s jaw. “ _You_ are an _indulgence,_ nothing more. Do not expect to make any demands of me outside of our agreement, do not expect any entanglements of the emotional kind, do not expect this to be anything but a transaction where you receive the protection you want and I… some amusement. If you try to twist things to your advantage or go public with this relationship then your family and friends will suffer, do you understand?”

“Yes,” Neil said as he managed a slight nod despite the hold on his chin.

Ichirou continued to grasp his chin and stare down at him before he let go. “That said… it’s not too late to change your mind. You and your friends can stay here for another day, which should allow Riko time to come to his senses and my uncle to speak to him.”

But it wouldn’t place Jean, Marley and Meg under Ichirou’s permanent protection, which is what they needed; even if Tetsuji ‘talked’ some sense into Riko, it would only be a temporary measure until the next thing set the psychotic bastard off. No, they needed something which would set them out of Riko’s damaging reach, and Neil understood that Ichirou required something to show for him extending his ‘influence’ like that. They didn’t live in a world where one did such things for free, where favors came without a cost.

Sons were bartered to pay off debts, lives were owed to save face, protection was given in return for promises. That’s the way it was and always would be, and Neil wouldn’t turn his back on the people he’d sworn to protect, even if just to save himself.

“No,” Neil said as he stepped a little closer to Ichirou. “I told you I knew what this meant.”

Ichirou sighed as if exasperated as he combed the fingers of his right hand through Neil’s damp hair. “You can take the night to think about it.”

“No,” Neil repeated, because that wouldn’t make anything better about it.

“So defiant.” Ichirou’s fingers tightened in Neil’s hair and gave a slight tug, which made him arch his neck. “So certain.” Something grew heated in the Moriyama heir’s- no, Moriyama _lord’s_ gaze. “Last chance, Nathaniel,” he said, his voice husky as he leaned in closer.

“ _I’m accepting your offer of protection for Jean Moreau, Marley Patel and Megan Curtis_ ,” Neil stated in Japanese as he fought not to shiver at Ichirou’s closeness; it wasn’t fear for once, but more… more from uncertainty at what was to come next. He hadn’t lied when he said he didn’t fear Ichirou, especially not when the man had offered him a chance to change his mind. He just didn’t know why Ichirou wanted him or why any of _this_ was worth three people’s lives.

“ _You make me sound almost kind_ ,” Ichirou murmured, his breath fanning against Neil’s lips. “ _There’s nothing kind about this_ ,” he declared before he closed the last bit of distance between them, his mouth insistent on Neil’s.

The fervent kiss surprised Neil, especially when it deepened and didn’t break off after a few seconds; he had little experience with such things, with more than a hasty press of the lips snuck on schoolyards or bus stops, but did his best when it became clear that Ichirou enjoyed it, fascinated with the process despite himself.

Then the man’s hands tugged at the hem of his soft blue sweater and slipped beneath it, which was something Neil was more ‘familiar’ with, which he’d been anticipating. Except those hands were gentle and didn’t tear at his clothes, weren’t forceful or harsh at all.

It was… it was confusing and a little frightening after all. Not because Ichirou hurt him, but because he _didn’t_. He didn’t force anything, didn’t shove Neil around, didn’t leave any bruises (well, other than a few marks on Neil’s neck and shoulders with his mouth that hadn’t hurt at the time), had taken his time and used his fingers to prepare Neil which had been embarrassing because of what it had made him _feel_ and how his body had reacted. He’d made Neil come that way before fucking him, Neil’s body still trembling and over-sensitive and his mind confused from what had just happened, before climaxing himself.

Afterwards, he placed a kiss on Neil’s forehead and then lips while Neil lay there still dazed; after discarding the condom, Ichirou pulled on a robe and refilled their glasses with a shot’s worth of whiskey. “I have a dinner I have to attend and then more meetings tonight, and will be busy the upcoming days as well. I’ll arrange for you and your friends to fly back in two days’ time.”

Neil stirred at that and sat up on the bed, only wincing a little; Ichirou noticed and handed over one of the glasses then ran his fingers through Neil’s hair as if in a soothing gesture. “Uhm, you don’t have to-“

“It’ll give me time to talk to Tetsuji and ensure that there aren’t any future misunderstandings with his nephew.” Ichirou’s dark gold eyes narrowed as his hand fell down to trace along a newly healed scar on Neil’s chest – a ‘souvenir’ from Riko.

“Yes, sir.” Neil started at an almost feather-light touch along his jaw, which made him look up as he sat there with the glass held tight in his hands while a feeling of numbness sank into his body.

“I told you that it’s unacceptable to take advantage of me or this situation, but it’s expected that I ensure you and the others are protected,” Ichirou told him in almost a chiding tone. “Never forget that, and never hesitate to call me if you need that protection, Nathaniel.”

Long used to wearing a mask, Neil managed what he felt was a realistic smile. “ _Yes, my lord_.”

“A shame that I truly must get going,” Ichirou sighed before leaning in for one last brief kiss. “Charge whatever you need to the room, Nathaniel. I’ll see you soon.”

Neil murmured something appropriate before he gulped down the whiskey, and as soon as Ichirou was in the bathroom, he stumbled off of the bed and pulled on his discarded clothes so he could leave. 

He ignored Bren once back in his own suite and paused for a moment to check on Jean (still sleeping) before shedding the clothes he’d just pulled on and taking another shower where he scrubbed himself clean. When there was no longer any traces from… from earlier that he could scrub off his skin, he filled the tub with water, as hot as he could stand it, and submerged himself until his lungs screamed for oxygen.

Jean found him there later that evening (night), after he’d drained and filled the tub several times, his hands and feet wrinkled but body and mind still numb. “ _Do you need help getting out_?” Jean asked as he held up a large towel.

For a moment Neil didn’t say anything or move, and then he slowly uncoiled and stepped out of the tub, almost falling as his body jerked about without any coordination but Jean caught him. Jean caught him and held on to him but not too tight, not too much after everything, but he was _there_ and he was _safe_ and Neil still couldn’t stop shivering.

Jean helped to dry him off and get him into a plush, warm robe and then into the huge bed before shuffling off to return with some tea for them both. “I… I don’t know why,” Neil tried to explain as he continued to shiver. “It won’t stop.”

Once the numerous pillows were arranged so Jean could sit propped up against them with Neil tucked against his side, he helped Neil drink the tea. “Did he… are you hurt?”

“No.” Neil stopped sipping the warm beverage to laugh, if one could call it that, and Jean had to take the cup away because he didn’t stop for over a minute. “No, no pain.” He hiccupped a couple of times and rubbed at his face, but his eyes were dry. “ _Why am I like this if there was no pain_?” Why did he feel so hollowed out yet raw at the same time?

“ _Because there’s only so much you can keep tearing yourself into pieces for the sake of others_ ,” Jean told him while he gave a gentle rub to Neil’s left arm. When Neil tried to shake his head in denial about that, Jean picked up his hands and wrapped them around the mug of tea. “ _No, you **are** doing that to yourself with these insane deals you make, the way you put us first. I… I’m not worth it, you know_.” He sounded so forlorn right then, so lost, yet he didn’t let go of Neil’s hands.

“ _You are to me_ ,” Neil insisted.

“ _Because you’re a foolish devil_.” Still, Jean sat there and made sure he drank his tea and helped to warm him up, then made him take one of his sleeping pills so he could rest through the night.

Neil still felt a bit numb the next morning, but no longer so exhausted (sleeping about fourteen hours for once might explain that). Bren ordered a large breakfast for him and Jean, displeased that both of them hadn’t eaten much the day before, and there was another fruit basket in the kitchen, along with a shopping bag full of clothes for them both. Neil had changed into a loose pair of black cotton pants and a blue cashmere sweater, Jean a similar outfit with a green sweater, when Marley and Meg came up to visit.

Both sported new outfits themselves, Marley black skinny jeans and a loose black sweater open in the back to reveal the red tank top she wore beneath it and red combat boots, Meg a light blue mini-dress with black thigh-high boots. Neil stared at them for several seconds, a bit confused at seeing them in something other than their usual Ravens’ outfits. “Ah, okay.”

“Impressive, I know.” Marley gave him a wide grin but looked him up and down as if to check him over, and pulled Meg back when her partner made as if to give him a hug; Neil sunk back in his chair, unwilling to deal with touching anyone other than Jean just then. “We took your uncle up on his offer to buy a lot which, you know, _that’s your_ _uncle_? Hello!”

“Yeah, I don’t know why I imagined some really old guy in a tweed cardigan and a pipe or something?” Meg asked with a slight pout as the two settled at the table and began to pick through the leftovers. “Your uncle is so much nicer than my uncles.”

Neil shrugged as he sat with his bare feet on the chair and knees in front of him, his mug of tea propped on top of them. “I’m willing to bet that your uncles aren’t part of a criminal organization, so keep letting him buy your compliance, all right?”

Marley seemed to think of that then nodded. “True. So, Declan told us the ‘official’ story is the four of us were rewarded with a little getaway since we’ve done so well this season, except Crusty over there came down with a cold and you’re being a good partner and taking care of him.” She stuck her tongue out at Jean, who was enjoying having unlimited access to the fancy coffee maker once again.

Jean considered that as Meg pounced on the chocolate croissants. “It’s plausible for most people, as the two of you have done very well as rookies and people are used to seeing us Ravens paired together.” He was slow in reaching over to give Neil a gentle prod in the left shoulder as if not to spook him. “Though I dread to think what this devil would do to me if left to tend to me for very long.”

“You French are too weak of constitution, you need some serious conditioning to toughen you up,” Neil teased, feeling a sense of normality return despite everything.

It wasn’t one of his best jabs, but it still earned him a sneer. “Certainly not from something as pathetic as a British fool who can’t make it through the day without his precious tea.”

Neil merely slurped his ‘precious tea’ by way of an answer.

The girls went off to do more damage to the card that Stuart had given them, while Jean took some more pills and went back to bed, determined to heal up as much as possible so he’d be able to play in their next game. Neil sat wrapped in a blanket on the chair right next to the fireplace in the living room and watched some Exy games on the one sports channel with Bren; he had to explain the game to the man, which worked well as a distraction, and got to learn more about his ‘minder’ during the day.

There was an excited call from Marley at one point, babbling on about how Thea Muldani was in town along with a couple of other women Exy players for a magazine shoot and that the Siren had invited Marley (and Meg) to join them upon finding out that Marley was there, too. Neil told her to go and have fun, and not to worry about meeting up with him and Jean for dinner in their room later.

Stuart showed up instead, looking tired and angry at first, enough that Neil stepped back out of reach of his uncle, all of a sudden made uncertain of the older man. Then Stuart’s expression softened and he called him ‘kiddo’, and if he noticed the marks on Neil’s neck, he didn’t mention them or stare at them for the rest of the night.

Jean was a little leery of Stuart at first, too, but as they sat down to their dinner of sea bass and risotto with black truffles (something soft enough for Jean to eat, though Neil was certain that Maureen wouldn’t approve of it at all), Stuart regaled them with stories of Neil’s mother as a young girl and the trouble she’d drag her ‘poor’ brother into time and time again. It was a bittersweet hour for Neil as he imagined Mary as such an independent, headstrong child, so carefree and irresponsible (so beloved and protected) – it was obvious that Stuart missed his sister dearly.

“You take after her,” Jean remarked to Neil as he had a little of the white wine which had come with the dinner.

“You do,” Stuart agreed, his voice rough all of a sudden. “Not just the way you act, but your motions, the way you talk… it’s just like her.”

That surprised Neil, who was so used to being told how much he resembled _Nathan_ , which he hated. He supposed there hadn’t been anything to prevent him from mirroring his mother with each identity, each new persona since they had always been together, had always played mother and child, so such things had lingered when he’d been Philippe and Jonas and Alex and the rest of his twenty-two identities.

He arched an eyebrow as he picked up his glass of water. “You do realize you’re agreeing with a _British_ person on something,” he told Jean.

“Please,” his partner said with an offending sniff. “A British person is agreeing with _me_.”

Stuart laughed at that and pointed out to Jean that he was outnumbered by ‘the British’, even if Neil barely counted as half a person (Neil didn’t think it was a crack about his American blood so much as about his height, which really, Stuart wasn’t _that_ much taller than him, the bastard). While Jean (also a bastard) nodded, Stuart reminded them about their flight around noon the next day and informed them with regrets that he had to get back to work.

Neil managed not to flinch when Stuart gave him a quick hug ‘goodbye’, and smiled, the expression genuine that time, when his uncle asked him to try to take better care of himself, dammit. He allowed Stuart a little privacy to talk to Bren (probably orders about how to ensure Neil was ‘taken care of’ in the future), and checked his messages to find that Marley and Meg were all right while Jean was busy in the bathroom.

He told Jean to keep the sleeping pills for himself that night, and if he had any bad dreams… well, he was used to them by that point. All that mattered was knowing that Jean was safe and right there, in knowing that someone whom Stuart trusted was guarding the door and that he… he’d be all right. Eventually.

They needed a few bags for all the stuff Marley and Meg had bought over the two days, for themselves and for Neil and Jean (as well as the items that Ichirou apparently had sent to their room). Neil didn’t know what he was supposed to do with the clothes when he already had enough Ravens’ outfits (his and what he’d swiped from Jean)- it wasn’t like he had any special occasions where he wasn’t on campus or in the Nest or in uniform, usually.

Meg had also bought some makeup for Neil and Jean, which she handed over with a slight blush, so Jean could hide the bruises on his face and Neil... well, he felt his face heat up a little when he accepted the bag.

Bren took them to the airport in another large SUV, where they flew in what must have been another of the Moriyama private jets back to Charleston, with Bren complaining about his 'vacation' being over and the girls talking about their evening with Thea. Meg was back in full 'bouncy' mode, which made Neil want to sneak one of Jean's sleeping pills into her hot chocolate (she was definitely taking advantage of being away from the Ravens' strict dieticians), while Marley was much more thoughtful.

"Thea definitely knew something was up," she told him and Jean. "Her and Sara." Sara Jenkins, another Raven who had gone on to sign with the Miami Waves, had been at the photo shoot as well. "They went along with everything, though."

"Of course, they're Ravens," Jean said as he nursed his espresso (Meg wasn't the only one enjoying the precious bit of freedom).

"Yeah." Marley's smile was a little sad as she gazed at him. "She asked a lot of questions about Kevin Day when we were alone, but I didn't have anything to tell her." She gave Jean a curious look. "Have something to say about that, Crusty?"

"Only that he's a fool. They both are, really." He went to shrug and ended up wincing, probably from his sore ribs and the cuts on his chest.

"I'm not imagining things, right?" Marley pressed. "Something's going on between them?"

Knowing that Marley wouldn't drop it until she got something for her (more like their) troubles, Jean sighed and held up his empty cup as a sign that he wanted some more caffeine by lieu of payment, which she eagerly snatched and went to refill, even though there was another quiet attendant hovering off to the side. "There is... something between those two, but as I said, Kevin is a fool and the last I knew, Thea was willing to wait for him to grow up.” He huffed a little at that. “Grow up or develop some common sense, one of the two." His tone made it clear he found both things doubtful.

Meg was curled up on one of the large chairs and held her huge cup of hot chocolate cradled in her hands as she stared at him with wide eyes. "Wow, okay. I mean, he's hot and all, but she can do _so_ much better. She's _Thea Muldani_."

"Now you sound like ma puce," Jean complained. "Where are my pills, I am in enough pain as it is." Still, Neil thought his friend was somewhat amused at how the 'great' Kevin Day was so easily dismissed right then.

Marley chided him that he loved her so much that he should be overjoyed that there were two of her, while Neil sat off to the side and watched everything and drank tea. He still felt cold, still felt a bit of numbness... but it was a little better when he could see Jean and Marley and Meg, the reasons he'd made that deal with Ichirou. When he knew they were safe and out of Riko's reach, especially when they were returning to Evermore.

There was another SUV waiting for them when they reached the airport, one bearing the distinctive Edgar Allan plates (ones similar to the cars which all of the Ravens had as a 'perk' of being recruited, even Neil and Jean supposedly, but of course rarely had the free time to drive), and Bren motioned for Neil to hold back a moment before climbing in without touching him. "I've orders to break the bastard's arm if he tries to touch you," Bren said, his voice low and menacing, his thick brows drawn in a scowl over his eyes. "Me and the others, so chin up, eh?"

Neil considered that as he met Jean's worried gaze as his partner held the door open for him. "From Stuart?"

"Yeah, but he's got backing on that from high up." Bren made as if to pat him on the shoulder but stopped in time when Neil tensed. "You're good, you and the others."

He was quiet as he let that implication sink in and then shook his head. "I wouldn't say 'good'," he told Bren with a teasing grin.

"Well, you are a Hatford," the burly man shot back and laughed as Neil crawled up into the huge vehicle while Jean mocked him for being so short in French.

Despite Bren's assurances, it was tense walking into the Nest and seeing the nervous glances of the other Ravens, all the while waiting to run into Riko again. Neil was on edge when the girls went off to their own room (with the new enforcer who'd driven the SUV, Quentin, tagging along after them), and dropped down on his bed once Bren made sure that the room was empty. Jean hesitated only a moment before joining him, moving slowly because of his injuries. "It's quiet."

"Yes, isn't it?" Neil frowned as he pulled out his phone and sent a message to Susan, who knocked on their door after a couple of minutes; there should still be a short break before afternoon practice resumed.

"You two look... ah, well, it's not as bad as the rumors are saying," she said after a moment's pause, an anxious smile on her face.

"And how bad are those rumors?" Neil asked as he sat up.

"Just that Riko did something to either one or both of you and got in trouble with the Master, but he's off with the Chargers so maybe it's not that bad?" She glanced at Jean and noticed how stiff his posture was before giving a nervous laugh. "Or maybe not."

At least it meant that the prick hadn't spent the last two days causing problems for everyone else at the Nest. “It... could have been worse," Neil admitted.

"That's good to know, I guess. Are you going to come to practice?"

Neil glanced over at Jean who gave a slight nod; his partner might not be up to scrimmaging, but Jean would want to be back in gear and doing drills after two days of rest. "Yes."

Susan's smile strengthened upon hearing that. "Good. I'll see you two out on court."

Neil sent a quick text to Stuart (he figured there was no sense in switching phones considering the last two days) to ask what was going on with Riko and Tetsuji, and was told that the older Moriyama would be back after the funeral and that the younger shouldn't until Tetsuji had returned to Evermore. Neil winced a little upon reading that, certain that Riko would be in a foul mood over his temporary exile.

Despite the fact that they'd be changing into their uniforms in a few minutes, Neil and Jean put on their 'Ravens' outfits before they left their room, with Bren their rather overlarge and obvious shadow. At Neil's question, he told them that Kengo's funeral was scheduled for the next day, with Tetsuji to return the following morning. "Stuart's gonna be pleased when it's over since it's keeping him on his toes, but it's cementing our place at Ichirou's side."

Neil had to wonder what it cost his mother's family, that 'place'... but it had been his uncles' decision to go after his father for her sake, he supposed. He just hoped it was worth more than revenge.

There were lingering looks and hushed whispers when he and Jean changed into their uniforms, and it felt odd to step out onto the court without Jean behind him helping to defend the goal. Tollis and Engle were only too happy to face off against him and Marley once the buzzer went off, but they weren't anywhere near as good as Riko, and Neil refused to let Federov pin him down, going so far as to jam the end of his racquet into the asshole's sternum to force him away at one point, a move which would have ended with him yellow carded at least in a real game. It seemed to drive the point across, though, as did Neil tripping and shoving anyone else who attempted to take him down into the wall, and he survived a typically brutal practice session.

He wasn’t going anywhere, was going to be a Raven and then whatever the Moriyamas (Ichirou) decided for him, would play Exy until his body gave out on him. Maybe Ichirou would have a use for his other skills by then, his ability to translate, but he was sold twice-over to the man now… once by his father and once by his own choice. There was no other place for him but wherever Ichirou told him to go, to stay.

He wouldn’t regret it.

Not when Marley laughed as she caught the ball he’d thrown to her and danced out of Bautista’s reach, only to shout out an insult on her way to the goal. Not when he could see Jean working with Meg on a set of drills while she waited for her turn to be called out on the court.

Not when they were safe because of him.

Not when Susan called him a clever little bastard in Russian when he caught the ball she’d deflected from the goal on the rebound from the wall and was already running in the opposite direction, or when Sophie smiled as he faked out Engle and passed the ball to her instead of a jeering Marley. His mother would have beaten him until his ears rang for hours for being so foolish, but these people were his team, were his fellow Ravens, united by their love of a game and refusal to let a demented tyrant beat it out of them.

They weren’t going to let anyone take their title away from them, and Neil wasn’t going to let Riko tear them apart anymore.

*******

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *******  
> Please don't hate me?
> 
> So, big changes here. No Renee swooping in to the Nest. Sorry. That wasn't going to happen. It COULDN'T happen. And no, no Andrew in her place. First? I never really understood how Ichirou allowed a valuable asset to just be taken away during a time of transition like that. There was no way he could allow someone who'd 'taken' one asset (Day) to walk away with another one let alone two (Jean and Neil) when he's just inherited from his father.
> 
> Not to mention that Neil had sworn to Ichirou.
> 
> I did say this is going to be a different Raven fic, right?
> 
> As for how this is going to play out... well, there's sort of clues there already. Hopefully you'll be happy about it when this particular plot thread is wrapped up, we'll see. 
> 
> Uhm... I think that's it? Hopefully I didn't lose too many of you....
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are appreciated (even if I think they'll be along the lines of 'nooo!').  
> *******


	12. Shoutout to All My Toasters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, recap of the last chapter - Neil and Jean do another photoshoot for the Brine campaign and go back to NY, where they have dinner with Ichirou, and Neil buys him a souvenir - a small plushie (the boy is polite, but clueless). Riko is still being an abusive ass to them, but is checked when Stuart finally manages to kill Nathan Wesninski and set up the Hatfords as the new 'muscle'/enforcers for the main branch. Stuart also assigns bodyguards to Neil in the Nest.
> 
> As for Andrew, Bee realizes that Andrew's falling hard for Neil but refuses to accept anything will come of it, and believes it'll end when he comes off the meds, these 'feelings'. She tries to tell him otherwise but doesn't push at first. She also brings up what's going on with Aaron. As for Aaron? He's been overhearing Andrew talking to someone on the weekends, and angry over Andrew's treatment of Katelyn, interrupts Andrew's call with Neil - if Aaron can't have Katelyn, why should Andrew have a friend? Nicky picks up that something more seems to be going on, especially that Andrew is talking to a GUY.
> 
> Back at the Nest, Riko finds out about Kengo's death and takes it out on Jean. Neil and Marley stop him before too much damage is inflicted, and Neil calls Ichirou asking for protection for Jean and the girls. Per Ichirou's 'request', they go to NYC so Ichirou and Neil can 'discuss' the deal. Long story short, Neil hands himself over to Ichirou and 'agrees' to be his lover - Ichirou insists that it's an arrangement for his indulgence only, that Neil should never try to twist things to his benefit, but Ichirou will ensure he, Jean and the girls are properly protected.
> 
> Neil... is a bit broken down afterwards, having gone a bit too far, and Jean looks after him. They spend a couple of days in NYC before going back to the Nest, Neil determined that he's not going to let Riko harm him or the Ravens anymore.
> 
> So, here we are? OH WOW, so much response to the last chapter? THANK YOU. I really thought I'd be getting 'you ruined things, thanks but bye' or along those lines. I appreciate everyone who's still sticking with the story and seeing where this leads.
> 
> Nothing new in triggers for this chapter? Not if you got through the last one? Obviously the Neil/Ichirou isn't going away anytime soon (sorry), but it's not going to be any more explicit than you've seen (at least as far as I'm planning now, I'll give a head's up if that changes).
> 
> BUT, I think there might be someone in this chapter who'll make some people happy.
> 
> Oh, and it's really long.
> 
> And much thanks to Fall-for-the-Game for the beta!  
> *******

*******

Andrew was not amused at the moment (as much as he ever was), between Aaron’s sarcastic comments about his ‘boyfriend’ whenever his brother deigned to come out of his room, Kevin’s mini-breakdown upon learning that Kengo Moriyama had died and no response from Neil – oh, then to discover that a certain little birdy just so happened to up and fly away to New York City for two days right when the yakuza lord died. No, that wasn’t suspicious at all, was it?

Nothing suspicious about the two girls Neil seemed to be protecting posting stuff on them out and about in the big city while he and Moreau were nowhere to be found, tucked inside of some hotel room. Nothing suspicious about Neil not answering his phone. Nothing suspicious about someone who seemed to live and breathe Exy taking a ‘break’ right before the semi-finals.

“What are the odds of that happening?” Andrew asked as he snatched the latest bottle of vodka away from Kevin and held it out of reach. “Just how many ‘fun getaways’ does Tetsuji send his Ravens on like that, hmm?”

Kevin gave him a bleary look after making a futile snatch at the bottle then shook his head. “He wouldn’t, not for two freshmen and two… Jean and Neil are property,” he murmured. “He wouldn’t. They shouldn’t even be out of the Nest.”

That was what Andrew thought, too. He drank the rest of the vodka and gave Kevin a thin-lipped smile. “No more happy juice for you, junkie. Wymack won’t shut up if I take you back with a busted liver.”

That provoked some bitching from the alcoholic, but Nicky soon distracted him with an Exy game, ever the pacifist. As for Aaron, he must have realized that he was counting a little too much on the agreement between them to keep him safe and sound when Andrew refused to go to Eden’s the weekend before they were due back on campus. If someone wanted to be a smart-mouthed little asshole, he could be a smart-mouthed little asshole at home, where there was a nice backyard for Andrew to bury the body.

Come Saturday morning, Andrew got up and went for a drive while everyone else seemed to be sleeping – Nicky and Aaron from all the beer they drank the night before – and after buying some coffee and donuts, sat in the GS while waiting for his phone to ring. Something tremulous lodged in his throat and made his hands shake as he set his coffee aside and reached for his phone when it rang at the usual time, something he refused to acknowledge as relief.

“Does it live?” he asked as he held the phone to his right ear.

“I suppose,” Neil said, his voice sounding… sounding a little ‘off’. Sounding tired, and from more than just the lack of sleep. “Send enough texts or what?”

Andrew clicked his tongue a couple of times. “I wanted to make sure that someone wasn’t having the fun of kicking your ass when I should be first in line. You can’t tell me that Riko was happy about his old man dying.”

“No, not quite,” Neil agreed, his voice quiet while Moreau murmured his name. “But I’m fine, no ass-kicking or anything.”

“Yes, that sounds so convincing.” Andrew paused to sip his coffee as he waited for some sort of joke or smart remark. “Riko handled it well and you got a nice trip out of it, why don’t I believe you?”

“You can believe whatever you want, Andrew. I suspect you do in the end.”

Something was wrong, was very wrong. “What happened in New York, Neil,” Andrew demanded to know. “Why did you-“

“It’s not your turn,” Neil said in a rush with the first real emotions in his voice during the call – anger and a hint of panic. “It’s not your turn and I’m not going to answer that question!”

Andrew considered that, considered that bit of panic, considered the way Moreau tried to soothe Neil in the background. “Not going to answer it now or ever?”

Neil’s silence spoke volumes, enough for Andrew to know that whatever happened in New York that it was _bad_. Something twisted inside of him at that realization, something made him roll down the window so he could throw the cup of coffee aside, so he could do _something_ … because all he _could_ do with Neil was ask stupid questions which only proved how useless he was in stopping another person from being hurt and abused as he sat there and did _nothing_. “I… I….”

“I hope you had a good break,” Neil said, his tone all of a sudden different as if he had forced himself to be brighter and more energetic. “That your family didn’t drive you crazy this time. And now you’ve made it to the next step! A few more weeks before you get to be all lazy.” His laugh right then wasn’t just right in that it cracked a little, at least at first. “You get to play Binghamton again, and from what I hear they-“

“Stop it,” Andrew ground it. “ _Stop it_! Why do you have to be such a fucking liar?” he demanded to know. “To pretend that nothing matters other than a stupid game? That your life isn’t some sort of nightmare because-“

“Go to hell, con!” Moreau shouted at him right before the line went dead, which made Andrew punch the GS’s steering wheel several times, startling a couple of people in the parking lot. Then he threw the phone aside as he started the car and slammed it into gear, the tires squealing as he pulled out onto the street and headed for the nearest exit onto the highway.

It took him about an hour of driving around (and munching on donuts) to calm down, to realize that he’d been an asshole (as always) and taken out his frustration and sense of futility on Neil. That he shouldn’t have snapped like that… but on one hand he was dealing with Aaron, who all but spat on the deal they had, and on the other hand there was someone whom Andrew was slowly realizing he _wanted_ to protect and couldn’t.

He was fucked.

Yet another call came through on his phone, another call he was about to ignore, until he saw the name flashing across the screen. He accepted it and put it on speaker phone, a bit surprised that Neil was calling him back unless it was to yell at him.

It wasn’t _Neil_ calling to yell at him.

“Ever treat him like that again and I’ll see to it that your calls end,” Moreau threatened, anger thickening his French accent.

Andrew debated hanging up on the Frenchie… but Moreau was rather protective of Neil and just might try to go through with that threat. “Neil might have something to say about it.”

“Neil still has to answer to certain people.”

Andrew gave a faint mock gasp as his hands clenched around the steering wheel. “You’d rat out your partner like that? How Raven-like, Valjean.”

“He won’t get into trouble since this person knows about the arrangement between the two of you,” Moreau admitted. “What _would_ displease that person is knowing how you berate Neil and upset him, though, when Neil is doing you a favor.”

Huh, that was… interesting, and also raised quite a few questions. Questions Andrew was certain that Moreau wouldn’t answer, the bastard. “And where is Neil now, hmm? I assume he’s off studying or something?”

“Yes, he has a couple of classes with Marley, who isn’t very pleased with you, either.”

Somehow Andrew would find the will to live on, though he had to admit, he was somewhat curious to find out what the poetic Patel would call him the next time they ran into each other. “So you decided to have a heart to heart chat with me, how nice.”

“Yes, it’s always so lovely to talk with someone I loathe.” Was it Andrew or was Moreau growing more sarcastic lately? Someone was taking lessons from their sharp-tongued partner, perhaps. “Someone who needs to keep his mouth shut about New York and not harass my partner if he insists on these ridiculous calls, especially since it seems to me that Neil is doing you a favor, gargouille laide.”

Ah, they’d moved onto pet names – Moreau obviously adored him. It was also obvious that Andrew was right about New York.

“I always cherish these little chats of ours,” Andrew remarked as he swerved around some dumb fuck barely doing the speed limit. “You thinking you can tell me what to do, the amusing insults, me sitting here imagining how much I want to shove that phone down your throat.”

“Did you not hear what I-“

“How is he?” Andrew asked as he shook out a cigarette. “Neil. You want me to drop things and play nice? Tell me the truth since he won’t. How is he?”

“You….” There was muttering for a moment before Moreau sighed, and when he resumed talking in English, he sounded worn down – coincidence? Somehow, Andrew doubted that, knowing how much Fate loved to fuck things over. “Not… not good. The girls and I are doing what we can, and practice helps. For some reason he was looking forward to talking to _you_ until you proved yourself to be un trou du cul, which is the only reason I’m bothering with this conversation. So behave from now on before I pass your name on to some people who’ll only be too willing to ensure you don’t upset him anymore.” That time, there was nothing but harsh conviction in his accented voice.

However, Andrew didn’t give a damn about the threat, not when he was too busy being disgusted with himself for feeling… for feeling _something_ upon hearing that Neil had looked forward to their call. Something that eased the rigid tension which had been inside of him for the past hour, that had twisted him up to the point that his neck was stiff and head ached and fingers could barely unclench from the steering wheel, yet made him feel a different type of giddiness that the artificial high of the damn meds.

It was so utterly ridiculous that for a moment, Andrew was half-tempted to steer his car into the concrete divider on his left to make it stop.

“I won’t push,” was all Andrew said as he refused to dwell on the rest of what Moreau had just revealed to him.

“We’ll see,” Moreau muttered. “I need to join him, so remember to _behave_ for once.” He didn’t bother with any pleasantries before hanging up.

Spared from commenting that his memory was just fine, Andrew made sure his phone had hung up as well and took the first exit which would return him home, where an anxious Kevin, a relieved Nicky and a sullen Aaron were waiting for him in or around the kitchen. He didn’t offer them any explanation, just let them know they would be returning to campus early the next day. Kevin smiled at that, since he’d been complaining about the lack of decent Exy courts, having to make due with local ones since Andrew refused to drive back and forth to campus every day.

Andrew spent most of the day up in his room, barring the occasional forage for food and caffeine, as he imagined what must have happened in New York to upset Neil so much – something to do with Tetsuji? Had he been beaten? Had his spot on the team threatened? Been forced to sign some insane contract?

It was a quiet drive back to campus, with Nicky giving up on any attempts on conversation after a tense few minutes. Andrew went up to the roof to wait for Renee’s return, and went through half a pack of cigarettes before she sent him a message to meet her down in the basement.

Once there, it was a brutal session, was him unleashing all of his frustration and confusion and anger at an oh so convenient target, at a person who could take it and lash back at him, who struck him with equal force and held a knife at his throat and stared into his eyes with a darkness he felt mired into his entire being.

“Enough, Andrew,” Renee told him as the blade pricked at his skin, her voice hoarse and lower lip bleeding. “ _Stop_.”

His own knife lying on the floor a few feet away, he debated going for another one before her fingers dug into his left wrist hard enough to make his fingers spasm and a small grunt of pain escape from his own lips (not split, but definitely swollen) before he nodded once. “What has the Christian girl all twisted up?” he asked when she finally backed off.

Renee gave him a cool look as she dabbed at her lip with the back of her left hand (split lip, black eye, bruised cheek, oh yes, it had been one of their better matches). “I was about to ask you the same thing.” When he gave her a grin in return, she sighed and went over to grab the waiting bottles of water and her bag. “Upstairs?”

He nodded again, since he could smoke as they did a mini-version of swapping truths, it appeared. They headed up there, movements a little stiff because of the abuse they’d just dealt onto each other, but after a few minutes, Andrew was in his usual spot with a lit cigarette between his fingers and an opened bottle of water by his knees, the breeze from being up so high cooling the sweat on his skin while Renee sat a few feet away.

“Seth called Allison a couple of nights ago,” she said without much preamble after a few sips of water; she’d gone on spring break with Reynolds to some resort to ‘recharge’ before the end of the semester. “I guess he’d had a bit too much to… drink and tried to talk her into getting back together.”

“Rather difficult to do when she’s with you, right?” He gave a wide grin at her blank look. “Come now, they say confession is good for the soul. Out with it, Christian girl, or aren’t you ready to face being a dirty homosexual, too?”

“I told you, I have no problem reconciling my faith and my sexuality,” she told him with a disapproving frown. “True Christianity is about accepting people with an open heart and without judgment, despite what some others might believe.”

 _Some_ people being Luther Hemmick and the likes, who seemed to forget the whole ‘hate the sin and not the sinner’ line, and pretty much everything his precious ‘Jesus’ had ever taught. Yet Andrew didn’t give a shit about religion so he shrugged. “So nice for you, then. And how did Reynolds react, hmm? She go running back to the loser yet again?”

Renee was quiet for a moment as she stared out over the campus then sighed as she tucked back a strand of bleached hair tipped in pale yellow. “As always, your compassion overwhelms me.” She ignored the middle finger directed her way as she shook her head, a hint of a smile hovering on her abused lips for a moment. “No, but it was a very stressful night when we’d been having a wonderful vacation, and she feels guilty. She knows that she made the right decision in breaking things off between them, that it never was going to work as long as he keeps using and drinking so much, even if it’s just the pot and cracker dust. Even with him playing better, he still refuses to take responsibility about some important things, and….” Her voice trailed off as she gave Andrew a weak smile. “And you don’t really care about any of this, I know.”

No, he didn’t, but he would have let her go on a little longer since she put up with his rants about Kevin and Nicky and the few other topics on the rare occasions when _he_ felt like talking. “Not really, but you do, obviously.”

She smiled at that, the expression genuine that time. “Yes, and I appreciate that you let me ramble without threatening to push me off the ledge. This time, at least.” She ducked her head for a moment as if gathering her thoughts. “So yes, it was a mostly good break until Seth ruined it, and now I’m worried that he’s going to try to pressure Allison.”

Andrew made a rude noise as he flicked his cigarette butt into the air. “Reynolds is a bitch.” When Renee glared at him, he shook his head. “Meaning she can hold her own. Maybe she needs to get him out of her system once and for all.” He may not like the dealer – the feeling was mutual – but Reynolds was more than capable of standing up for herself. She’d been doing it for the last few years, after all, had walked away from her billionaire parents without any visible regret and took down anyone who stood in her way. She was a Fox for a reason despite the wealth and privileged background.

Renee’s head was cocked to the side as she thought about that for several seconds. “Maybe.” She paused for some more water before she set the bottle aside. “Now what about you? Is Aaron still upset about Katelyn or did something else happen?”

He didn’t think it was worth talking about his brother so he tapped the fingers of his right hand against his thigh a couple of times. “Something happened with Neil and it seems I’m not supposed to ask any questions about it – at least to him,” he admitted.

“Ah.” Renee frowned as she once again tucked aside a stray lock of hair. “Does this have anything to do with him and the girls going to New York City?” When Andrew gave her a thin sliver of a smile, she shook her head even as she fetched her phone from her bag. “Meg posted some pictures about those days, but nothing with Neil or Jean in them, and all she said was that Neil was looking after Jean while he recovered from a cold. It was much the same with Marley, and you know if I ask, they won’t give me anything.”

“No, that’s not it,” Andrew told her; he’d already gone through those two’s accounts and it was just as Renee had said, nothing about Neil that gave him a clue as to what had happened, except maybe that Moreau was involved somehow. “I want you to pass on a message from me to Patel.” When Renee nodded in acceptance, he continued. “Tell the girl that… that the stunted monkey fucker is sorry and that the little bird can ask questions the next two times.” Hopefully Neil would accept that as an apology and Andrew’s way of saying that the matter was dropped, just like Neil wanted.

Renee stared at him for a couple of seconds before her gaze fell onto her phone, well aware that Andrew didn’t do ‘sorry’ very often (if at all). “All right.” She typed away for about a minute. “It’s done.” Then she gave him a curious look as she held on to her phone. “Is there something you want to tell me, Andrew?”

Since she’d asked…. “You have terrible taste in women.”

“We’ll disagree on that,” she sighed in exasperation as she stood up. “Especially since I think you’re a bit biased. “

“I don’t have to want to fuck her to know that Reynolds is terrible,” he told her with mock affront.

“Then I’ll choose to interpret that as unnecessary concern for me, in which case ‘thank you’.” She smiled at him before she walked away.

He really should have shoved her off of the ledge when he had a chance.

Kevin was back on the court that evening, determined to be prepared for their game on Friday against Binghamton. If they won, then they would face Kevin’s fanboy team of USC in two weeks, which probably made him internally squeal with delight whenever he thought about it.

Andrew wondered if he could get _Kevin_ up on the roof, then was reminded of the damn promise between them.

Monday was back to classes and practice, and Andrew spent some time checking for pictures of Neil. Patel and Curtis didn’t disappoint, and Andrew noticed how Neil wasn’t smiling in any of them, how his eyes were shadowed and how Moreau hovered near him in each one; he couldn’t tell if the backliner was being protective or possessive, which bothered him (if he had reason to be protective, of course).

There were more pictures throughout the week since the Ravens were playing Penn State again on Thursday, and Moreau was right next to Neil in each one, even had his arm outstretched as if to block someone from approaching his smaller partner. Meanwhile there was an awful blankness in Neil’s eyes which Andrew recognized, a glassiness that made Andrew want to break things, even when the idiot managed to smile up at Patel or someone off camera.

When Bee tried to bring up Neil during their session that week, Andrew gave her a flat look for several seconds and told her to move on. She was quiet for almost a minute as if to give him time to change his mind and then asked him if he’d heard of the new bakery which had opened downtown.

No one was surprised when the Ravens beat Penn State, the Lions not even making it to the semi-final rounds for the first time in years. The stadium was in an uproar as a good bit of Penn State fans had traveled to Edgar Allan for the match, yet the Ravens stood defiant out on the Exy court amidst all the noise and upheaval.

Andrew noticed that Moreau once again was all but glued to Neil’s side, that Patel and Curtis were close to him, too, along with Ivanova and Lau and several others… and Riko appeared to be keeping his distance. That it almost appeared as if the team was split into two groups - those clustered around Neil and those around Riko.

Wasn't that a bit interesting?

Friday came, along with the rematch against Binghamton. The Bearcats brought plenty of their rambunctious fans along, how nice of them, as well as their pleasant tactics of foul play and intimidation. They did everything they could to take out the Foxes, to encourage yellow and red cards while out on the court, even to the point of sacrificing their own players. The Foxes, much to Andrew's growing bemusement, somehow managed to hold on to their tempers and focus on the game, on the goal of surpassing another round - on proving everyone wrong (if there was one thing that could unify a bunch of losers, it was that). Even Gordon behaved himself... for the most part. When he was yellow carded for getting into a fight with a Bearcat backliner who took him down in a clear foul, Wymack wisely pulled him for the rest of the game before he ended up with a red card.

Even with him gone, the Foxes went on to win. It wasn't their best game, but they won. Andrew was spared all of the boring platitudes about how proud Wymack was of them as he threw up and sweated out the last of his withdrawals in the showers, and rounded up the rest of the monsters once everyone was showered and dressed – there was supposed to be a party at Abby’s for the team, but he wasn’t interested in staying on campus that weekend. Not after what happened the last time he’d spent some time at Abby’s.

Roland seemed resigned to being 'turned down' at that point, on a night when Andrew felt too big in his own skin, felt an energy thrumming through him which for once wasn’t because of the damn meds. He sat at the small table while Nicky and Aaron danced and did shot after shot of dust-laced whiskey while Kevin rambled on about how the Foxes were going to be defeated by the Trojans until he leaned forward to get into the coward's face and told him to shut up about Exy.

There were pictures posted after the Ravens' game with Penn State, of a tired and sweaty Neil standing in front of Moreau with his partner’s arms draped over his shoulders (which had racked up an unholy amount of reposts), of him standing between Patel and Curtis with what looked to be a genuine smile on his face and a bit of life in his eyes for once, the caption beneath reading 'the unholy trio' in French, of him standing a little bit away from the other Ravens with a pensive look on his face and a fierce-looking Moreau nearby as if to keep anyone from bothering him (from getting too close to his partner). Pictures which Andrew found himself staring at as questions whirred around in his mind, as he tried to tell himself that he was imagining things, projecting his own past onto the present.

He was back at the donut shop the next morning, out of sorts after a night plagued by old terrors, by memories which could never be buried for long. Andrew rubbed at his dry and aching eyes as he sipped his double mocha latte and waited for Neil to call, half expecting the phone to remain silent. When the call did come through, he stared at it for a couple of seconds before he reached to accept it and put it on speakerphone.

"It's really gonna suck to fly aaalll the way out to California only to lose, isn't it? Then we get to kick your asses again."

Despite himself, Andrew felt his lips twitch at the smart ass' 'hello'. "Fuck off," he drawled, not even going to bother arguing about how the Foxes would win against the Ravens when they both knew it wouldn’t happen that year. "Another month and no more early morning practices, no more long drives to stupid games, no more sitting around in late night practices. What about you, little birdy?" he sang out.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll have some nebulous division title to make me happy, something like that. Who needs more than a handful of hours of sleep?" Neil sounded a little better than the previous week, sounded as if he had a bit more energy even if he was back to classes and everything else required of being a Raven.

"Hmm, and Riko will be happy, too, I imagine," Andrew dared to push.

Neil was quiet for a moment before he gave a faint chuckle. "Yeah, there's that, too. As much as he ever is, these days." He was quiet again save for what sounded to be him sipping something. "Go on, you want to ask, do it."

Andrew thought he meant about New York until he realized that 'go on' had to do with Riko. "How did he handle his father's death?"

There was another chuckle, that time a little louder and a lot bittier. "Let's say... not good, especially when he found out that he wasn't wanted anywhere near the funeral. How did Day handle it?"

Taking that to be an end to inquiry, at least on Neil's side, Andrew sighed before he had some more coffee. "A minor breakdown, which didn't make much sense. It's not like he knew Kengo, right?"

Moreau murmured something too quiet to be understood while Andrew speculated on _Neil_ being in New York while Riko had gone to play with his professional team - but speculation was all he could do just then. "No, Kengo never bothered with Day, apparently," Neil answered after a minute or so. "Not important enough. But Day knows how much Riko wanted his daddy's attention."

Ah, Neil finally sounded like his old self right then, full of spit and vinegar. "And Kevin knows that Riko's never going to get anything from that side of the family."

"No, he isn't." Hmm, someone sounded rather certain right then. "So, how is the family drama on your end?" Neil asked after a slight pause.

Andrew clicked his tongue as he shook out a cigarette. "Is that your question?"

"Oh, sure, be that way _now_ ," Neil scoffed while Moreau complained about assholes in the background. "Yes, it's my question. Your brother seemed rather upset when he interrupted our one call."

"He was," Andrew said before he lit the cigarette.

"I see. Any particular reason why?"

Andrew gave a slight shrug which Neil couldn't see. "Something about him thinking it rather unfair that I had a buddy to talk to while I chased away his latest slut." He dropped his voice as if about to confide an important secret. "He has this problem with falling for these little harlots, you see."

Neil was quiet for a moment and then let out a slow breath. "Wow, and I thought my mom was bad about some things. So what, you scare away all his girlfriends to protect him and he throws a fit about it?" He sounded more curious than anything, as if trying to work out a puzzle.

"Hmm, yeah, pretty much!"  Andrew clapped his hands together a couple of times. “You win a prize.”

Neil was quiet again while it sounded as if Moreau mumbled on about 'crazy gargoyles' in French. "All right, I'm even happier now to be an only child." He sounded more confused than anything by what Andrew had just said.

"It does seem to simplify one's life," Andrew admitted, even as he sat there aching to ask Neil about what his mother was 'bad about', to ask what Neil thought about girls (or boys). But he'd agreed to not take a turn that week or the next, to not push... and he had a feeling that it might not be a good topic to bring up, for the time being. "But if you change your mind, I can spare a cousin."

"How generous of you." Neil seemed anything but pleased at the offer. "I have a few of those, though, so I'm good."

Was that a new development? "The offer still stands."

"Again, so generous." Yet Neil seemed almost normal at the moment, sounded relaxed and had that teasing bite back in his voice. “I think I’ll pass.” The last word was distorted by a yawn.

“At least you get a bit of a break, yes?” Andrew asked as he flicked ash out the slight opening in his driver’s side window. “At least until you play the Trojans in a few weeks.”

Neil laughed at that, the sound only slightly tinged with bitterness. “It’s the semi-finals, you think Tetsuji is going to give us a break? Especially when it’s Riko’s mission to crush your team? If you thought we were hard on you last fall, it’ll be nothing like this time. You never should have made it this far.”

“Yet we did,” Andrew reminded his little bird while Moreau called Neil a foolish devil.

“Yeah, you did.” Neil seemed impressed despite himself. “But you’re not making it any further, Andrew.”

“Because of Riko?”

“No, because you’re not good enough. We’re going to stop you,” Neil said, his tone serious and even a bit cold. “If you don’t want to embarrass yourself, go practice for once.”

“Another Exy junkie, how boring,” Andrew taunted even as he smiled. “I told you that you wouldn’t be able to use your tricks against me this time.”

“I don’t need tricks, I’ve spent the past season busting my ass out on the court. Go practice, Andrew, maybe then you won’t fail so much against the Trojans,” Neil told him before hanging up.

Now that was annoying – if Andrew wanted to talk about Exy so much, he would have stayed at home and woken up Kevin.

Still, the sour ending note aside, at least Neil had called him and appeared to be doing better, something that showed in the pictures that Patel and Curtis posted. Moreau was still a possessive shadow around his partner, but Neil smiled a little more, his eyes not as hollow as before, and Patel had a hand on his shoulder in one of the photos.

With the not so good came the downright aggravating, such as Nicky hovering around Andrew and making those big eyes of his as he dropped ‘hints’ about being a good listener (no, he was terrible at listening since he didn’t seem to hear Andrew’s ‘go the fuck away’s) and Kevin playing old Trojan games non-stop on his laptop. The worst? Andrew walked into Bee’s office on Wednesday to find _Aaron_ in one of the chairs.

He glanced at his brother sitting there with an anxious expression and hands latched onto the arms of the chair and then over at Bee, who stood near her desk with a too-blank expression and grinned. “Oh Bee, I thought you were a psychiatrist! Not an illusionist. Do another trick for me, yes? Make him disappear before I saw him in half.”

Bee sighed and rubbed at her forehead above the rims of her glasses. “Andrew, would you just listen to what he has to suggest for a couple of minutes?”

It was Andrew’s smile which vanished as he folded his arms over his chest to place his fingers on top of his armbands where he could feel the reassurance of his knives. “Either he disappears or I do.”

Aaron scoffed as he leaned forward in the chair. “Just _listen_ , dammit! You’re always going on about how _I_ never listen to _you_ , so I’m here, all right?”

“Because you want something, _right_?” Andrew leaned against the wall near the door as he glanced between Bee and his brother. “What’s he getting out of it, hmm? It’s about the cheerleader whore, isn’t it?”

“She’s not a whore!” Aaron declared as he jumped onto his feet. “Why can’t you understand that? What about that Raven, huh? Is _he_ some kind of slut since he’s talking to a prick like you?”

Andrew shoved away from the wall and only came to a halt when Bee hurried to place herself in the center of the room with her hands held up. “Leave Neil out of this.”

“ _Neil_ , huh?” Aaron sneered. “So that’s-“

“Let’s stop with the insults,” Bee demanded, her voice raised to be heard over them. “That’s not the point of this meeting!”

“There _is_ no _point_ ,” Andrew said as he went back to the wall. “I refuse to say anything else while _he’s_ here.” He folded his arms over his chest again and made a show of grinning with his lips pressed tightly together.

“Andrew,” Bee sighed while Aaron gave him the finger. “Aaron, it’s probably best if you left for today.”

“Today,” Aaron argued as he went back to the chair to grab the backpack leaning next to it. “But I’ll be here next week, and the week after that, you asshole!” he spat at Andrew. “You wanna mess with my life? Then I get to know _why_!” He made another rude gesture as he stomped past on his way out.

It was quiet while Bee went to make them their usual hot chocolates. “That went… about as well as I’d expected,” she remarked after a couple of minutes.

“Explain to me why you’re not a traitor,” Andrew said as he sat in his usual chair, and judging from the way that Bee’s shoulders tightened, she knew not to take his seemingly friendly tone at face value.

“Because when Aaron approached me about sitting in today, I gave it some serious thought and concluded that it would be in both of your best interests to confront each other,” she admitted when she turned around and handed him his drink. “Andrew… from what I can tell, the two of you have been in this type of limbo ever since Tilda’s death. You watch over Aaron and he stays near you per your agreement, but there’s no… there’s no real connection,” she said with conviction as she sat down, her expression earnest as she watched him as if to catch any emotion on his part. “You’re like two orbiting planets caught in each other’s gravity, constantly circling but always a static distance apart. Isn’t it time to do something to change that?”

“And if we smash into each other to our mutual annihilation?” he asked as he held the mug between his hands, its heat soaking into his calloused palms and fingers.

Bee had the grace to wince a little but she didn’t look aside. “I think there’s too much built up between you to get away without at least a little collision, but I’m hoping for much less destruction in the end and… oh, I suppose a tighter orbit or something?” Her expression turned a bit rueful as she tapped her fingers against her mug. “I could have gone for a better analogy, no?”

“It’s clear why you went into psychiatry and not creative writing,” he chided before having a sip of hot chocolate. “You’d never sell a single book.”

“Yes, well, it’s good to know one’s strengths and weaknesses. So, you mentioned that you were going to read ‘The Little Prince’? Did you start yet?”

Andrew allowed her the not so clever segue onto a new topic since it got them off of the one with Aaron, unwilling to talk about his brother any longer. Aaron was a bit surlier than usual at practice later that day, but between Wymack, Wilds and Kevin getting on everyone to ‘put in some effort’ in light of their approaching match with the Trojans, he was soon distracted from his little snit and back to normal.

They remained on campus that weekend so Kevin could get in some extra practice, along with Yee; Andrew took his call with Neil while sprawled out on the one bench outside of court. “Well, I’m _almost_ practicing,” he told his little bird. “I’m near court at least.”

“I’m going to laugh when you get your ass kicked on Friday, do you know that? We’re going to be watching the game, all of us, and I’m going to laugh not only when the Trojans kick your ass but when Knox tries to come up with some nice way of saying that you Foxes weren’t some pathetic mess who shouldn’t have made it to the semi-finals in the first place,” Neil mused as if speaking aloud.

Moreau said something about ‘good’ and ‘learning’ in French, Andrew thought.

“Is someone a grumpy birdy today? Not enough worms? Or too much of a certain prick?”

“Sadly, I wouldn’t be surprised by anything they put in the damn shakes they feed us,” Neil complained while Moreau chuckled in the background. “And… well, Riko’s always a prick,” he added, for once sounding more resigned than anything. “It is what it is.”

Andrew frowned at that statement. “I’m sure Kevin would have something to say about that.”

“ _Kevin_ ran after-“ Neil let out a sharp breath as he seemed to catch himself. “Let’s just say that I’ve reached an understanding with Riko and he’s not too bad right now,” Neil said while Moreau murmured his name as if in warning. Before Andrew could speak, he continued. “And no, not your week for a question, not that I’ll answer _that_ one, either.”

“You’re getting awfully selective all of a sudden,” Andrew pointed out as he tapped the heel of his right foot onto the bench.

“You come spend some time in the Nest and I’ll become more talkative. As is, you know an awful lot for an outsider,” Neil argued. “Now, it’s my turn again,” he reminded Andrew.

“Fine, fine, ask away. It’s not like I’ve anything better to do than listen to Kevin rant about a stupid stickball game.” Such as notice how little a certain birdy laughed lately, if it was genuine or not, a bit too sad or not. That one was a little better than it had been, but still a little wistful (ah, the perks of a near perfect memory).

“Okay.” Neil paused as if he had to think about his question. “Ah, does Yee seem serious about Meg? I mean… she really likes him, is it the same? With him, I mean?”

How pitiful – a question that almost made Andrew wish they were still talking about Exy. “You can ask me almost anything and you’re asking _that_?” Andrew clicked his tongue in disgust. “What are you, twelve?”

“You don’t have to listen to her go on about him or worse, put up with Marley complaining about how Meg’s always talking about him. Since you guys got into the semi-finals, she’s all excited about our rematch just so she can see Yee again.” Now Neil sounded a bit disgusted himself.

“What, weren’t you like that when you had your first crush?” Andrew asked, seeing an opportunity and taking it.

“Eh? Me?” Now Neil seemed confused. “No, I’ve never liked anyone like that.”

“Not a girl?” Andrew waited a second before trying again and hated that he sounded like Nicky. “Or a boy?”

“Neither,” Neil admitted without any hesitation. “I don’t… I don’t swing.”

For some reason that answer made Andrew want to grab the nearest racquet and bring it down on something hard enough to smash it to pieces. “That-“

“Just answer his questions, petite gargouille,” Moreau snapped, as always lurking in the background like some type of bothersome chaperone. “What about Yee?”

“Yee’s an obnoxious Exy junkie, too, but he won’t shut up about Curtis so they’re perfect for each other," Andrew told them as he slipped a knife free from his right armband and began to flip it a little in the air. "Why do you care?"

"Why do _you_ care?" Moreau shot back.

"Enough, I'm too tired to listen to you guys get into this today," Neil complained before Andrew could curtail Frenchie’s irritating line of questioning. "And I already told you, Meg really seems to like him."

"Just seems an odd thing to waste a question on," Andrew argued as he ran his thumb over the sharp edge of the knife. "You could ask anything."

Neil was quiet while Moreau took to murmuring again, too faint to be understood. "I don't... it's what I chose to ask, all right? Something that was... I'd rather talk about _Meg_ , okay?" he said, his voice hitching a little as if he was indeed tired.

Tired, or worn out. No, _worn thin_ , worn thin and down and just trying desperately to hold things together, trying to keep everything in and himself moving forward. Andrew didn't know anything about that, didn't know about pressing down on emotions and memories and pain in a desperate attempt to keep them all from overwhelming him, from rendering him unable to do anything but curl into himself in an effort to hide away from a cruel world determined to break him.

Not at all.

So Neil probably was trying to avoid any topics which might pick away at that carefully devised wall he'd built, which Moreau seemed determined to protect as well. There was another sharp jab at that thought, another irrational flare of anger, yet all Andrew did was run his thumb over the knife until he felt a thin sliver of _physical_ pain instead, which was better. "Want me to beat up Yee for you?"

That startled a choked off laugh from Neil. "What? I mean... I thought you said he seems to like Meg. And he's your teammate."

"I'm getting annoyed with him going on about the girl, and him being a teammate means nothing," Andrew scoffed as he forced himself to set aside the knife. "I'll smack Nicky instead, if you want."

That time Neil's laugh was more certain, more light, and Andrew cursed the drugs for that damn tingling in his chest, for the way that his mood could go from awful to something... something so _different_ so quickly. "That's okay, I think Marley's looking forward to taking him down on the court again in a few weeks. She says he has the funniest expression on his face when she does that."

Wonderful, just wait until Nicky found out that he was being targeted by a girl on purpose. "Fine, spoil my fun."

"Somehow I think you'll manage to find some other poor soul to beat up." Neil sounded back to normal again, or as 'back' to normal as he'd been before, which Andrew supposed was as good as it was going to get anymore.

"I'll take that as an action item today."

"Anything to get out of practice, you lazy goth," Neil chided him. "Remember, don't get caught."

"I'm not an amateur," Andrew proclaimed before he hung up and was left to suffer through the rest of Kevin's and Yee's wretched Exy bonding adventure.

Aaron showed up again on Wednesday, so Andrew decided to regale Bee with stories about all the little harlots he'd chased away in the last several years, all the girls who'd figured that Aaron could score them drugs or who would be 'fun' because he had a house with no parents around or an older cousin who could buy alcohol or rode around in a nice car. The girls who saw a pre-med student on a sports scholarship and thought they could take advantage of a 'Fox', could smile and bat their eyes and show a little affection to someone so 'messed up'.

Hmm, funny how someone so determined to 'listen' and 'talk' stormed out of the office after half an hour.

"You do find new ways to prove difficult," Bee remarked as she made herself another cup of hot chocolate, her fingers twitching in a manner which signaled that she'd much rather have a cigarette but that she was substituting one vice for the other.

"What can I say? I'm an overachiever," he told her with a wide grin.

Bee didn't seem impressed for some reason.

It was a long flight to California, a state that Andrew had been only too happy to leave behind, with an anxious team and an oddly excited Kevin to play the USC Trojans on Friday. The Foxes vacillated between defiance and doom in the locker room as they prepped for the game against what was arguably the second best team in the Class I division, while Kevin was like a happy puppy when they finally went out on court to warm up. Andrew wanted to punch him on principle alone, he was so sickening to watch when Jeremy Knox, the Trojan's captain and starting striker, came over to talk to him, all bright white smiles and firm pats on the shoulder.

Andrew stood back and let the two junkies babble on about their stupid stickball sport, attention divided between them and the crowd in the stadium seats in case Riko had decided to pull another 'surprise' visit during one of the Foxes’ games. He looked over when Knox held out a piece of paper to Kevin, who shook his head and led him over to Wymack instead of reading it himself.

"Our line-up," Knox said with an odd grin on his face, as if pleased about something. "It's late to be getting it to you, I know, but we were trying to avoid as much of a backlash as possible."

Andrew's attention narrowed on the Trojan as that wasn't suspicious at all, oh no.

"Backlash?" Wilds asked, clearly suspicious about that statement as well.

Wymack finished reading the sheet, his brows furrowed and expression a little too flat as if he refused to give anything away as he stared at Knox while handing the sheet to Wilds, whose face paled when she read the line-up. "Your pity's a little misplaced," he growled out. "Tell Coach Rhemann we don't want any handouts."

Oh, was someone being foolish? Andrew crossed his arms across his chest and waited for things to play out, expecting to be mildly less bored for a couple of seconds at least - Foxes did indignant so well, after all.

"This isn't pity," Knox insisted while several of the Foxes pressed around him as if scenting blood. "We're doing this for us, not you. Your success this year has us rethinking everything about how we play. Are we second because we're talented or because we have twenty-eight people on our line-up? Are we good enough as individuals to stand against you? We have to know."

Ah, someone was being idealistic - Andrew was wrong, things were boring after all.

Kevin grabbed the paper from Wilds' hands to read it himself while the Foxes took to murmuring amongst themselves. Boyd put his disgusting height to use to read the line-up over Kevin's shoulders and shook his head. "You’re joking, right?" When Knox continued to smile at him, he gaped in surprise. "You're not?" When Reynolds, apparently tired of being left out of what was on the paper, yanked on his sleeve and gave him a dirty look to indicate that it was time to let the rest of the team in on the secret, he shook his head again. "There's only ten names there."

Ten names on the line-up, just like there were only ten Foxes. Andrew clicked his tongue in revulsion and wondered how soon the game would be over so he could have something to drink, already feeling the start of withdrawal and in no mood to put up with idealistic idiots.

"Two goalies, three backliners, three strikers and two dealers," Knox explained. "You made it this far with those numbers. It's time to see how we'd fare in that situation. I'm excited!"

Andrew tuned out the rest of the hyper moron's little speech, done with everything and just wanting to get the game over with and go home.

Knox left after dropping his little 'surprise', and Wymack lectured them about not taking the 'gift' for granted - the Foxes had a chance to win, but it wasn't a given, not against a team as good as the Trojans. Not when they would have fresh goalies for each half and could rotate through some of the best strikers and backliners in the division.

Their hope in winning was to wear the Trojans down and not let them gain too much of a point lead in the first half – the Foxes were used to playing a full game with fewer people… but Kevin, Andrew and Boyd were their best players, and the Trojans would be coming after them with _ten_ of their best. Ten players who couldn’t even beat the Ravens, granted, though they were the team who came closest.

Wilds talked about winning and Wymack gave another one of his wretched speeches, and then it was out on the court for the start of the game. The Trojans’ fans were a hell of a lot better behaved than the Bearcats’ had been… at least until they heard about the line-up change. Even then, they didn’t take it out on the Foxes, instead saving their disappointment for their own team.

For all the booing and yelling they’d done when the announcement had been made that the Trojans were only sending ten players out on the field… it didn’t seem like they had much cause to be upset once the game started. Andrew was out in the goal for the first half with instructions to keep the score as low as possible, but it was almost as bad as the game with the Ravens. The Trojans offense, while nowhere near as rough or dirty as the Ravens or other teams that the Foxes had dealt with in the past, were too good for the defense to hold back for very long, while their own defensive team blocked Kevin, Gordon and Yee time and time again. Andrew was drenched in sweat by the end of the first quarter and the Trojans had still managed two goals while the Foxes scored none, and it was in the second quarter that Gordon finally snapped and took a swing at Knox when the Trojan striker had swiped the ball from him.

The first half ended with the Trojans leading, four to two… and Renee was set to take the goal. Considering that Andrew felt as if he’d just played an entire game, he knew that it was beyond foolish to think that she wouldn’t be giving up more points, especially since the Trojans had used the opportunity of Gordon’s yellow card to pull Knox from the game and give him a chance to catch his breath.

The second half started with Kevin and Gordon back out on court but no Knox, and for a while the Foxes were doing all right, were pushing against Trojan strikers and backliners clearly unused to playing for so long. However, there was a new Trojan goalie out on the court, and while she was hampered somewhat by the weakened defense, she managed to block a good bit of Foxes’ attempts on the goal – enough to frustrate Gordon when he got past defense to fire off a shot, only for the goalie to catch it right at the edge of the goal and then lob it halfway down the court in a move that, Andrew had to admit, wasn’t that bad.

Clearly Gordon didn’t appreciate it since he shoved one of the backliners out of his way in an unnecessary move with enough force to send the young woman tumbling to the wooden floor… which earned him a red card. Wymack started swearing up a storm as the upperclassman argued with a referee about the call and being thrown off the court, while Andrew just watched on with a growing lethargy – that and an urge to throw up, both out of repugnance and from the worsening case of withdrawal.

He’d put in an amount of actual effort for _this_? For Gordon to lose his fucking temper yet again? Oh, Renee would probably make an excuse about how the fuck-up had tried so hard and hated to see the Foxes fail after coming that far, but the fact was that Gordon couldn’t hold on to his shit when it mattered the most. So the Trojans put Knox and Carroll back out on court while Kevin had to play the rest of the second half with Yee… and that was it for the Foxes.

Oh, it was a ‘better’ game than most people would have suspected, pitting the one-time joke of the NCAA Class I division up against the second best, but the Foxes still lost eleven-seven to the Trojans. The crowd roared in delight over their team winning after all, and the rest of the Trojans ran out to swarm Knox and the other players on court, who were groaning from exertion but grinning in happiness.

Knox managed to hobble over to Kevin to give him a one-arm hug. “That was an incredible game,” he said, a wide grin still plastered on his face. “You guys taught us a lot tonight and given us a lot to think about. I can’t wait to play you again next year!”

Kevin, despite having just lost a game, smiled back. “Yeah, it was.” His expression hardened a little as he glanced at his quiet team. “We’ll do better next year. Now they know how a proper team plays and can start training themselves to be one.”

Knox gave him an incredulous look for a moment before he laughed. “You definitely never change, do you? I look forward to it!” He gave Kevin another quick hug before he hobbled back over to his team.

“Come on,” Boyd groaned to Andrew as he glared at Kevin. “One hit, I’m just asking for you to let me get in _one damn_ hit.”

Andrew gave the backliner a flat look before heading to the locker room to throw up in peace and take his medicine.

He still had a flight to suffer through, and in another two weeks there would be the game with the Ravens. A game which he doubted anyone expected them to win, especially since Gordon had just gotten himself red-carded tonight and the Foxes had lost to the Trojans. No, the Foxes’ Exy season was finally coming to an end, for which Andrew felt a glimmer of gratitude since it had dragged on too damn long as it was. But Kevin had taken the team farther than anyone had thought possible, had gotten them to the semi-finals and proved that they weren’t the laughingstocks of their division any longer.

So another meeting with the Ravens in the near future, another run-in with a displeased Riko. Kevin should be on firmer ground this time, though, should be stronger since he’d kept his word of dragging the Foxes along far enough to meet the Ravens for a rematch, to prove his former ‘Master’ and partner wrong. And while Kevin finally put some ghosts to rest, perhaps Andrew could track down a certain little birdy and get an answer or two out of him.

*******

There was a definite tension in the Nest which only increased after Tetsuji’s return; the Ravens knew something had happened related to Kengo Moriyama’s death, to first Tetsuji and then Riko leaving, to Jean, Neil, Marley and Meg going off to New York City and then returning without getting in any trouble _and_ a bodyguard for the girls. The other Ravens paid attention to how Akagi and Nakamura didn’t penalize the four of them for their little ‘break’, didn’t prevent Bren or Janna or Quentin from following them onto the court – didn’t stop Jean from shoving Bautista face first into the outer wall of the court when he tried to grab Neil one day during practice, only for Janna to nearly dislocate the bastard’s arm when he pulled away and tried to swing at Jean for the ‘interference’.

It was clear that the Ravens were expecting Tetsuji to do _something_ – to punish Neil and Jean at least – but all their ‘Master’ did was turn a blind eye in regards to the bodyguards, to pretend that they didn’t exist. Neil knew that his uncle’s people couldn’t do whatever they wanted, that there were some sort of limits… but that Ichirou had probably ‘told’ his uncle that when it came to Neil’s and the other three’s safety, the Hatford people were to do whatever was necessary.

Considering the price that Neil had paid for that ‘security’? Tetsuji better damn well accept whatever his nephew had told him.

That left everyone waiting for Riko to return and find out about the change in ‘status’ at the Nest, the fact that two ‘assets’ now had some sort of value and weren’t to be considered his personal punching bags anymore. Neil did his best to throw himself into training, to think only of practice and Exy and the upcoming game with Penn State rather than anything Moriyama related, which mostly worked during the day.

He wasn’t sleeping well at night. As soon as he closed his eyes, all the thoughts he’d push aside during the day would fill his head, until he lay paralyzed on the bed as if waiting for some unknown monster to come and for the pain to start, for the small bit of safety he’d sacrificed everything for to be torn away, for Jean to be beaten and cut up and-

“Shh, _it’s all right. Go back to sleep_ ,” Jean would encourage him, deep voice thick with sleep and large, calloused hand spread out across Neil’s chest, over his heart beating thunderously against his ribcage as if it could burst free and escape.

Neil was exhausted and he felt as if his nerves had been scraped raw, he hated the feeling of everyone’s gazes and attention focused on him, hated how he kept glancing around for Riko’s arrival just so it would be _over_. When Saturday came and it was time to talk to Andrew, he thought that _something_ would be normal at last, that for a short time it would be their usual back and forth, the almost-bickering and jabs that for some reason he looked forward to each week.

Instead he got questions that he didn’t want, questions he couldn’t answer – not then, _not then_. He was called a liar (oh, if only Andrew knew the truth), and before he could react to the latest attack, Jean grabbed the phone from him to curse out Andrew then hung up.

“ _That filthy, ugly gargoyle_ ,” Jean ranted. “ _Unwanted spawn of dogs, who does he think he is_?” He threw the phone aside before he slowly reached out to cup the left side of Neil’s face to tilt it up until Neil looked at him. “Hey.”

Neil blinked at that, at the obvious concern in his partner’s voice. “Hey, you.” A shaky smile more or less curled his lips as he met Jean’s worried gaze. “ _You sound like Marley right now – ‘spawn of dogs’_.”

“ _You clearly are not functioning well right now, not enough of your precious tea or something_ ,” Jean said with a sniff as he gave Neil’s cheek a gentle rub.

“ _Or something_ ,” Neil agreed as he closed his eyes. He remained still while Jean fussed over him, as a blanket was draped over his shoulders and Jean slowly tugged him closer to rest against his partner’s side while Jean did something on his phone. The last couple of days, Jean had been… he’d been oddly attentive of Neil, had fussed more than usual and stepped in more with Federov and Bautista and the others despite his own injuries. As tired (and a bit numb) as he was, Neil didn’t have it in him to mind.

When was the last time someone had done such things for him?

He opened his eyes when there was a knock on the door, which ended up being Marley arriving with cups of tea and coffee. “Meg’s on the phone,” she said while rolling her eyes. “Kenny’s back at school so they’re catching up, what joy.”

“Ah.” Neil slipped a hand from beneath the blanket to accept the mug of tea from Marley, who then went to sit on the other bed, and the three of them talked for a little while – Marley complaining a little about Meg and Kenny before filling them in on various Ravens gossip, then Jean on some past games with Penn State (Neil really didn’t talk much).

After a while, Neil forced himself to move. “We need to finish that assignment for Statistics,” he reminded Marley.

“Yeah. Let’s go get my notes and then we can work in one of the study rooms, okay?” She gave him a slight frown as she took in his appearance. “You need to eat something, Shorty. You barely ate any lunch today.”

“I….” Neil thought about sitting in the large room full of all the other Ravens while they stared at him and sighed. “Okay, we’ll grab something while we study.” There should be some fruit and granola bars in the one break room, and he could have some herbal tea to drink as well.

That seemed to make both Jean and Marley happy, and Janna checked that Jean would be staying in the room as well as letting Quentin know before she went off with Neil and Marley. It wasn't quite the same as being with Jean, but Marley was good about giving him some space and staring down the couple of Ravens (Loiseau and Dixon) who paid more attention to them than their own homework, and after about an hour or two Sophie and Amy came over to chat about the upcoming game for a little bit. When their homework was done, they went to collect Jean and Meg so they could eat dinner with a few others (Sophie, Amy, Susan and Ben), where there was a lot of teasing about Meg 'dating' a Fox ('is it a pity thing? or just bad taste?') before the others moved on to Sophie and Ben (Neil hadn't realized that the two were 'together').

Riko returned on Sunday.

Neil knew as soon as he stepped out of his room to find Bren standing guard, solemn and wide awake at such an early hour (Ravens’ hours), and sighed. "He's back." Jean pressed against him, not too close but more of a reassuring presence than anything.

"Yeah, got in from Detroit late last night. Supposedly his uncle's not happy with him right now, so you two don't go anywhere without me, got it?" Bren waited until they nodded. "I'll chase that damn ball around if I have to," he added with a slight grin.

Jean appeared offended as he stepped around to Neil's left side. "No, not _another_ British oaf out on court."

"Too much of a good thing for your poor French heart to take?" Neil asked as he summoned up a slim smile; he knew Riko was coming back sooner or later, knew it had to be today since classes were resuming. It wasn't that he was afraid of the bastard... it was just that he wanted this over with, wanted whatever drama Riko would cause dealt with so he could see the damage, assess it and move on. In a way it was good, because he was tired, so tired of the tension and the wait and the uncertainty.

Let Riko know that things had changed, that his power had been diminished, his kingdom challenged. The reaction was certain to be unpleasant, but once it blew over, Neil could finally act instead of react.

Stuart had said that he was his mother's child, that he took after Mary. Well, it was time to prove that to everyone.

" _There is that look again_ ," Jean complained. " _The one that always fills me with dread_."

That time Neil's smile was more certain.

Bren grimaced in distaste while he watched the two of them drink their morning smoothies, muttering all the while about the lack of some decent bangers and mash (which made Jean grimace in return and have a few more things to say about the horribleness of British cuisine), then followed them into the locker room where they changed into their uniforms. Neil joked a little with Bren about finding one that would fit him and how he'd make a good backliner, while Jean sneered that they didn't have a number low enough for the enforcer.

Marley and Meg were already out on the court, with Declan as their 'shadow' for the day... and a glowering Riko stood beside his uncle, his dark eyes intent on Neil and Jean. Neil met his gaze as he went to stand beside Marley, and smiled at the hatred he recognized in it.

He wasn't surprised when Tetsuji called a scrimmage with him and Marley on the opposite team of Riko and Engle, with Jean and Loiseau paired off against Federov and Bautista. Neil shared a look with Marley, the two of them aware that what was about to come wouldn’t be pleasant.

"It's gonna be rough," he warned Bren as he pulled on his helmet. "Try to stay out of it as much as you can."

"I have my orders," Bren reminded him, all traces of good humor gone.

"Yeah, but we have to practice. Just don't break things up unless it really gets out of hand," Neil argued before he ran onto court.

As soon as the buzzer sounded, it was clear that Riko was intent on proving that he was still the 'king', that he still had some power over Neil and Jean. It wasn't so much about scoring points as causing pain, in slamming Neil and Jean and Marley around as much as possible.

Except Neil had already given as much of himself away as he could, had handed himself over to Ichirou and wasn't going to let a nobody like Riko (and in the end, Riko _really_ was nothing, which was what this was all about) take away the tiny bits which remained. He wasn't going to let Riko harm the people he'd paid so dearly to protect. Which meant he refused to go down beneath all those hits and slams and rushes, and he gave back as good as he got if not better. Even Jean fought back, his teeth bared in a mockery of a smile, while Marley laughed and taunted and reminded them that she'd been dealing with assholes bigger than her trying to take her down for years.

At one point Riko did manage to get Neil pinned against the wall - after Neil stole the ball away from him and threw it to Sophie - his racquet clearly pressed against Neil's chest in an illegal hold. "So you're a _whore_ now?" Riko all but spat in Neil's face, his own twisted with rage. "You liked it so much that you went and crawled into my brother's bed?"

Neil smirked at the bastard despite the way his skin became clammy from Riko's closeness, the way his stomach twisted and his muscles twitched with the need to run. "There was no 'crawling' involved, he was happy to have me there. What hurts the most, hmm? That Ichirou called out _my_ name that night more than he ever even said yours in his entire life or that you'd willingly trade-" Neil brought his right knee up with all of his strength when Riko's face contorted even more with fury, as the shaft of the racquet shifted higher up to his neck and laughed when the prick flinched aside. "Not yours to play with anymore," he sang out as he slid free, even as Tetsuji called out Riko's name with Bren yelling beside him, arms wind-milling through the air.

" _Someone's not happy_ ," Marley said in her not quite perfect French as she ran aside him for a few steps.

" _Isn't it wonderful_?" Neil shared a wide grin with her before he had to duck out of the way of Federov.

Riko tried again to take Neil down, but that time Jean was nearby and gave him a hard shove into the wall. The look of utter shock on the bastard's face was almost priceless as it was clear that he never expected _Jean_ to stand up to him, to dare to lash out after all the years of abuse. Neil was quick to pass the ball to Marley, who scored a goal for them, and as Riko gathered himself to do something, Tetsuji called an end to the 'game'.

Bren threw open the door to the court and stalked onto it while Neil positioned himself at his partner's side, his attention on Riko and the way their 'captain' clutched his racquet in his hands.

" _You don't **dare** to touch me, to think you can interfere_ ," he started yelling at Jean in Japanese as he raised the racquet in the air. " _You are nothing! You're less than nothing, you're_ -"

Bren caught the stick before it could be brought down and yanked it from Riko's hands as if the striker was a small child. "Just how fucking dense are you, eh? You _don't_ touch them. Use your hands, I break 'em. Use that fancy stick, I break _you_ with it. Use someone else to do it for you, I break _them_ and then _you_." He gave a pointed look to Federov and Bautista before he resumed glaring at an utterly gobsmacked Riko. "Do I need to use smaller words?" he asked as he brought the racquet down across his raised knee and broke it in half as he held Riko's gaze, several of the Ravens gasping in shock as pieces of black and red painted wood flew across the court. "Or do I shove these up that spoiled arse of yours, eh?"

"Morgan," Tetsuji called out, speaking up at last. "That's enough."

"Long as he's learned something," Bren said as he held up the broken racquet for a moment before he threw the pieces aside and left the court.

Tetsuji directed a blank look at his nephew for several seconds while Riko seemed to visibly struggle with himself before ordering Mills, Dixon and Lincoln to clean the court.

There was another scrimmage afterwards, but Riko remained by his uncle's side while Neil, Marley, Jean and Meg were out on court. Tetsuji worked them hard for about an hour before he sent them off to do drills and allowed Riko back onto the court.

Bren and Declan chatted with each other while Neil, Jean and the girls practiced, and Bren placed a call, probably to Stuart or someone who reported up to him, and all the while kept an eye on Riko. As soon as Tetsuji put an end to the first practice session of the day, Declan trailed after the girls while Bren was quick to fall in step behind Neil and Jean.

The enforcer made sure to put himself between them and Riko while they rid themselves of their sweat-soaked uniforms, which left Neil wondering if Bren was going to follow them into the showers. He'd just pulled off his protective gear when Riko stepped closer (but not within Bren's reach) with a sneer on his face. " _You really think it's wise to go against me_?" he asked in Japanese. " _I **am** the Ravens. I am the face of Exy and-_ "

" _You're what Tetsuji allows you to be_ ," Neil told him with all of the scorn he felt evident in his voice and his expression. " _And Tetsuji does whatever Ichirou tells him_."

Once again a look of mad fury twisted Riko's features, and when he made to take a step forward, Bren gave him a hard shove backward, one which sent Riko stumbling for balance. "What did I say about breaking you, huh? Leave the kid alone."

Several of the Ravens stared in open disbelief at Riko being denied something, at being manhandled. At someone daring to stand up to their 'king'. Riko righted himself after a moment and Neil could tell that he wanted to lash out, to unleash the hatred and rage inside of him onto Neil and Jean and Bren... but he couldn't. For once the king found his power openly checked, his empire worthless.

And Riko _knew_ that, which sent him storming out of the locker room. Neil realized that he would find someone to vent that terrible temper on later, that he'd target Dixon or Mills or one of the other lower ranked Ravens since they were too close to the finals. Still, he would say something to Bren, and maybe something to Ichirou as well.

Bren hovered at the entrance of the showers as if to ensure that Riko didn't come back, and went with them to the one cafeteria where he complained about the egg white omelet and bowl of oatmeal with fruit he ate, along with several slices of wholegrain toast. "I'm losing weight here, I am. How am I supposed to put these chavs in their place if I'm nothing but skin and bones?"

"I hear kale is go- _ow_." Neil glared at Jean, who'd just elbowed him in the ribs. " _What_?"

" _Don't even try, you devil_ ," he was told while Meg stifled a laugh.

"You have to give him something for trying," Marley remarked as she ate her own spinach and egg white omelet.

"No, I don't," Jean insisted, while Neil rolled his eyes and ate his spinach and kale-free oatmeal.

They spent some time back in their room before the afternoon workout and practice session, where Neil talked to Stuart for a few minutes (to be lectured on listening to Bren and the others). It was much like he'd expected when Mills didn't show up that afternoon and Dixon was covered in bruises, which Bren definitely noticed. Neil told himself that there wasn't much that he could do, that he had to start small and work his way up to things... and wasn't surprised when Jean wanted answers that night as they got ready for bed.

" _You're planning something_."

Neil gave a slight shrug as he sat down on their bed. " _Perhaps_."

Jean's thick black brows drew together as he sank down next to Neil. " _There is no 'perhaps', you scheming devil. Tell me what disaster you're dragging us both into so I can prepare for the worst_." He backed it up by giving a slight poke to Neil's left shoulder.

" _Fine_." Neil huffed as he held up the blankets so Jean could take his spot against the wall then joined him, eager for a bit of warmth at last. " _Ichirou made a comment about Riko being a 'nuisance' but serving a purpose. What if he becomes too much of a problem, hmm? If the trouble he causes outweighs his value?_ " If the same threat that was always held over his and Jean's heads applied to the prick?

Jean regarded him for a few seconds before letting out a weary sigh and resting his head on one of the pillows. " _So what? You're going to drive him mad_?" He seemed to think about that. “ _Madder_?”

" _Something like that_ ," Neil agreed. " _We know very well that he has a short temper_." A _very_ short temper, Neil thought as he rubbed along the new scars littering his chest. " _And he won't handle well losing the small bit of power he has, or the fact that Ichirou gives us any sort of recognition and not him. So we just... we goad him into acting out even more than he already does_."

He waited while Jean thought about that and frowned when he was given a tap on the forehead. " _As always, you're playing with fire_."

" _What else is a devil supposed to do?"_

" _Be quiet and go to sleep, so poor souls like me can get some rest at last_."

"You're getting old and stale, ma baguette," Neil remarked, and smiled when Jean pulled the blankets over his head.

Bren didn't quite follow them to their classes the next day, which would have been a little too obvious, but he ordered them to stick together as much as possible, to keep their phones on them - charged and powered on - and to call if there were any problems. Neil couldn't go anywhere without Marley and Jean right next to him, Jean especially, which made dealing with people who weren't his friends or fellow Ravens bearable. It had been somewhat all right in the Nest, in the bubble world of Exy and people who dealt with much of the same things he did.

Now he was out where people thought nothing of bumping into him, of squeezing past to get into the classroom or coming up close to wish him 'good luck' - at least until they were confronted by a glowering Jean or blocked by Marley running interference. Neil's nerves felt raw by the end of the first day, and he was even more grateful for Jean when his friend kept Federov away when the bastard lingered a little too close in the locker room as if sensing Neil's unease.

The backliner tried something on Wednesday, no doubt put up to it by Riko; he knocked Neil onto the floor and then ‘fell’ onto him to pin him down, his hot breath on Neil’s neck and hips rolling down hard. Neil felt the panic build in him as he scrambled for his dropped racquet, as he heard Jean yell his name and he waited for the pain to start, for the hands-

Federov yelled as he was yanked up and off of Neil, several Ravens calling out in surprise at Bren’s sudden appearance and even Tetsuji raising his voice for once. The backliner tried to say something but he was punched in the stomach before Bren grabbed his right hand and did something that made Federov scream in pain.

“Morgan! _Stop it_ ,” Tetsuji demanded while Jean bent down to help Neil stand up while Marley hovered beside him.

“I told the fucker what would happen, didn’t I?” Bren declared as he shoved a sobbing Federov onto the hard floor of the court; the backliner held his right hand cradled to his chest in such a way that it was clear that Bren had damaged it despite the protective glove. Considering that the bastard wasn’t wearing goalie gear… he probably had some broken fingers. At least.

Tetsuji must have come to the same conclusion since he glared at Bren. “He’s a valuable player and we’ve a game tomorrow.”

The enforcer didn’t appear to care. “You’ve got a shitload of other players who seemed to have paid better attention when I said ‘don’t touch’. That and Jean over there’s sporting busted fingers and I haven’t heard _him_ complain,” Bren pointed out.

Tetsuji continued the little stare-off between them for a few more seconds before he motioned for Akagi to remove Federov from the court. “Moreau has always shown admirable devotion to the game,” the bastard lied, which made Jean’s hands on Neil’s shoulders clench in anger for a moment. “Restrain yourself from my players.”

“Teach your players to listen better and it won’t be a problem,” Bren shot back. “I have _orders_ to follow, remember?” When Tetsuji didn’t say anything else, Bren scoffed. “Next time I’m snapping his damn hand off at the wrist and shoving it down his throat!” That made a couple of Ravens, such as Bautista and Johnson, shuffle their feet about nervously while Riko looked ready to break his own racquet.

“Anyone who is _not_ a Raven is to be off the court in ten seconds,” Tetsuji called out as he stalked toward the door, the most affected that Neil had ever seen the man.

Bren gave Neil a quick glance and only left after Neil nodded. He patted Jean’s hand in quick assurance since it was clear that the game was about to restart, and did his best to push aside the awful memories stirred up by Federov’s little ‘trick’. It helped that no one on Riko’s ‘team’ did more than give him a half-hearted shove for the rest of the match, clearly unwilling to risk Bren’s ire.

Declan watched over them on Thursday (Janna had been reassigned to Marley and Meg, since she could at least enter the girl’s locker room); Neil was still getting used to the ‘new’ bodyguard, even if he seemed as friendly as Bren and did his best to put Neil and Jean at ease. He spent breakfast telling them stories about how Stuart’s ‘second’, some guy named Davis whom Neil remembered being mentioned a couple times before, seemed to have a lot of fun playing jokes on his uncle.

It was when they’d come back from class that Declan hesitated a moment before giving Neil a nervous smile. “Ah, I just found out that Ichirou’s on his way here and wants to see you.”

Neil went still at that before he nodded. “Okay, when?” They were expected at practice soon, after they grabbed a light lunch.

“Probably best I take you up there after you get something to eat.” Declan appeared apologetic for some reason.

“It’s fine, let me just get something from my room first and then we’ll grab lunch.”

Jean waited to say something until they were in their room. “ _Are you sure? You can call your uncle or_ -“

“No.” Neil set the bag he’d just fetched down on the bed and looked at his friend. “ _We have a deal, Ichirou and me. He’s honoring his end, so I honor mine_.” He’d expected it, Ichirou showing up soon – either today or before their next game. The new lord had to make his presence known at Castle Evermore, after all.

“Neil.” Jean came over and ran a light touch over Neil’s hair. “ _This… you shouldn’t_ ….”

Neil forced a smile as he caught Jean’s falling hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “ _I’ll be fine_ ,” he insisted. “ _It may work to our advantage, when Riko sees you at practice and finds out where I am, so be careful, all right?_ ”

“ _You are ever the fool_ ,” Jean told him, his voice hoarse for some reason. “ _I’d tell you to take care of yourself, but it’s a wasted effort_.” To Neil’s surprise, he leaned down and placed a light kiss on Neil’s forehead. “ _Don’t do too much damage to yourself for once, please?_ ”

Why did Neil feel an odd prickly sensation in the back of his throat? “ _I… I’ll try_ ,” he promised. “ _I have to play tonight, after all.”_

Jean left the room muttering about British martyrs and foolish devils sent to plague him, with Neil trailing after him unwilling to say anything lest a proper tirade was unleashed his way, and Declan eyed them both as if they were insane.

Meg’s excitement for the upcoming game was dampened somewhat when she realized that Neil had to go up to the East Tower again, since not so good things usually happened afterward, and Marley became thoughtful; Neil knew that they weren’t aware of everything going on with Ichirou and him, but they weren’t stupid, either. So they talked about the game and the line-up, how Neil and Jean would be stuck playing most of it again and Meg had more time out on court, and just a few more weeks until ‘old Crusty’ wasn’t going to be the only ‘NCAA Class I Division champion’ so SUCK IT.

“No, really, so glad to be an only child,” Neil remarked as he watched Jean fling a grape right at the middle of Marley’s forehead.

“Why do you think I took an assignment across the Atlantic Ocean?” Janna remarked as she scooted her chair back a few more inches and ran a hand down the front what looked to be a very nice black fitted blazer. “No family over here.”

“Uhm… time for practice yet?” Declan asked as he held up his hands in a placating manner while Marley threw the grape back at Jean.

“Yes, time for ma puce to show everyone how pathetic she is,” Jean sneered.

“You’re so on, Crusty!”

“They are an awful lot like siblings, aren’t they?” Meg agreed as she stood up. “I miss Jason so much.”

Neil thought they were an awful lot like a pair of idiots, but the fighting helped to distract Jean as he left with Declan to go to the East Tower – though Riko seemed to notice that he was leaving in an opposite direction than the others and stood to his feet in a rush, but by that point Neil was already out in the hallway.

It was a quiet walk to the East Tower, with Declan seeming to pick up on Neil’s anxiousness. When they reached the large room with its view of the stadium below, there already were two of Ichirou’s men waiting for his arrival. Neil nodded to them and turned to his bodyguard. “I have my phone, I’ll call you when… well, when I’m ready to return to practice.”

Declan glanced at the men and then back at him. “I’m supposed to stay with you.”

“You’re supposed to stay with Jean, too. I’ll be fine,” Neil assured him; he’d rather Jean have the extra protection since there was no way for Riko to come up there.

“But-“

“We’ll watch over him,” one of Ichirou’s bodyguards – Neil thought he’d been at the hotel last time – called out. “Our lord’s orders.”

Declan didn’t seem too happy about it, but Neil was right in that he was supposed to watch Jean, too. “Don’t leave this room until I get here for you, okay?”

Neil promised that he’d call when it was time for him to leave, and went over to the windows to watch his team practice while he waited for Ichirou to arrive – another ten minutes or so.

“Nathaniel, you’re here.” Ichirou smiled and gave him a slight nod before talking to one of his guards about the guests arriving for the game that night; Neil stood by the windows and did his best not to eavesdrop, his attention focused below once again, until he heard the faint shuffle of footsteps in plush carpet and looked up to see Ichirou approaching.

“Watching your teammates?”

“Yes, everyone’s getting ready for the game tonight,” Neil said as he matched Ichirou’s faint smile and accepted the glass of whiskey being held out to him.

“And are you confident that they’ll win?” Ichirou leaned against the glass pane, his attention focused on Neil.

“Yeah – we beat Penn State once this season already and we’re prepared to do it again. Their offense is good but not good enough to get past our defense, and we’ve the best offense out there.” Once that was said, Neil drank the whiskey in a couple of sips.

“Such confidence.” Ichirou’s smile strengthened as he sipped his own drink. “So you’ve no doubts that the Ravens will take the championship title again this year?”

Neil licked at a drop of whiskey on his lips before he nodded. “I’m certain we’ll face the Trojans and they’ll be a challenge, but again, we have the best offensive and defensive players out there so we’ll win.” Then he gave a slight shrug. “That is, as long as they’re able to play.” When Ichirou raised an elegantly arched eyebrow at that, Neil inclined his head down to the court. “Jean is still recovering from what Riko did to him but is able to play. Bren….”

“Bren Morgan,” Ichirou supplied. “One of your uncle’s men assigned to watch over you.”

“Yes, he stepped in to protect me the other day,” Neil admitted as he held the empty glass cradled against his chest and wished that it contained some more alcohol. Ichirou noticed that, of course, and tugged the glass away.

“So I heard, from someone who overstepped his bounds during practice.” The smile slipped from Ichirou’s handsome face and something dark lurked in his eyes, something that reminded Neil of his father, yet his touch was light against Neil’s left cheek. “Morgan has done some… oh, ‘digging’, you would call it, and his reports indicate that this person isn’t a friend of yours. Is that correct?”

Neil shuddered as he thought about Federov. “No. He… he’s one of Riko’s.”

“I see. And you don’t like him… touching you, do you?” Ichirou’s fingers slipped down to beneath Neil’s chin and made him look up. “This Lev Federov.”

“No,” Neil admitted. “ _No_.”

“Then Morgan was correct to break his hand,” Ichirou said, the darkness no longer just a hint in his eyes.

“Yes, he was,” Neil agreed. “I don’t… I don’t think he’ll do it again, not now, but that’s one player down. Mills can barely play, either, and-“

“Has Mills touched you, too?” Ichirou asked with a bit of heat in his voice.

“No, he- not at all. It’s just… Riko needs to hurt _someone_. For right now it’s the lower ranked players, but he’s always been a bit unpredictable.”

“Ah.” The darkness began to fade and be replaced by thoughtfulness. “I suppose that is a cause for concern.” Ichirou seemed to consider something and then motioned to the bag held in Neil’s left hand. “What is that?”

Recognizing the change of subject for what it was, Neil managed a smile and held up the bag; he’d conveyed his concern over Riko’s temper and destructive habits, and it was best to not push too much on the topic. “Something for you.”

“Ah.” Ichirou led them over to the desk where he could set the glasses aside and accept the bag, and grinned when he unfolded the black cashmere scarf. “No stuffed animals this time?”

“I lodged a complaint with the hotel’s gift store,” Neil told him, his demeanor solemn. “It’s very unacceptable.”

That surprised a laugh out of the Moriyama lord as he shook his head. “I’m sure they’ll reconsider their wares from now on.” He held up the scarf and smiled. “Is it black for any reason?”

“You seem to favor it?” Neil dared to reach out to give a slight tug to the left lapel of Ichirou’s black suit jacket – he’d always seen Ichirou dressed in dark colors. “I’d debated between it and bright pink, but I didn’t want you to confuse people.” He didn’t know why he was talking like this to Ichirou (maybe. Maybe because talking meant they weren’t doing other things), but Ichirou was smiling and didn’t seem to care about his attitude and smart mouth (unlike his father and Riko and DiMaccio and so many others).

“No, we can’t have that.” Ichirou held on to the scarf for a moment longer before setting it down on the desk as well. “Come.” There was a roughness to his voice when he spoke that time.

Ichirou led him into the small office off to the side of the large room… and through another door, which led to what was a small bedroom with a wall of windows mostly taken up by a large bed, decorated in the same black and red plush fabrics and antique Japanese wall prints as Neil had seen in the other room.

“The whole tower is comprised of various rooms so my father – now I – can hold meetings and events here, especially during the Court games,” Ichirou explained upon noticing Neil’s stunned expression. “Sometimes it’s not in our best interest to have some guests be seen coming and going during those times.”

“Ah.” Neil refused to rub his hands up and down his arms as a sudden chill ran through him.

“’Ah’,” Ichirou repeated as he leaned back against the end of the bed, his expression now cool. “Suddenly less loquacious, Nathaniel. Is there a reason for that?”

“I….” Neil had promised him the truth, but that didn’t mean it had to be the _right_ truth. “This is new to me.” He gestured between the two of them even as he stepped forward to lessen the space between them. “I’m still not quite sure what it is that you want. With me, I mean.”

Ichirou’s sudden reserve vanished as he reached out to cup the back of Neil’s head and pull him in. “How odd, I thought that had been made perfectly clear,” he said before he kissed Neil.

It was the same as last time – was Ichirou insistent but never forceful, was the kissing until Neil felt dizzy and breathless, was the slow removal of his clothes and quiet questions about the new bruises he’d picked up from practice. Then it was lying down on the bed while Ichirou gently took him apart once again, while Neil struggled with something that felt so overwhelming and good yet….

He held on to Ichirou when the other man came, held him close and stroked along his tattooed back since that seemed to soothe him and provoke a pleased little moan. They remained together on the bed for a minute or two before Ichirou made a low groan and nuzzled Neil’s neck before pulling away.

“Your next game would be an away one, yes?”

Neil grimaced a little as he sat up and ran his hand through his hair. “Hmm, yes, most likely.” Odds were more than good that the final game would come down to them and another team, so the ERC was preparing for the game to take place at Evermore, which meant that the Ravens would go to the competing teams in the semi-finals to make it ‘fair’ and give everyone a chance to host a play-off game. “I’m willing to bet California.” He summoned a smile for Ichirou. “I’ll bring you back a sea lion or something.”

Ichirou leaned forward to give him a lingering kiss. “Promises, Nathaniel.” He kissed Neil again. “For good luck.”

“ _And to you, my lord_ ,” Neil told him in Japanese with a slight bow of his head before he scooted off of the bed so he could find his phone (and pants) to let Declan know to come get him. “Give ‘em hell.”

“That’s never in doubt.” Ichirou hummed as he exited through yet _another_ door, which Neil assumed led to a bathroom, while Neil spied his discarded clothes.

He sent the text and then got dressed, and only had to wait out in the main room with Ichirou’s guards who seemed to be politely ignoring him for the few minutes before Declan finally arrived.

It was another quiet walk, that time down to the locker room where Neil took a quick shower (and a couple of minutes to push down deep everything that had happened up in that small room in the East Tower) before changing into his gear so he could join the others out on court. He deliberately ignored Riko as he took his usual spot at Jean’s side, well aware of the darkening bruises on his neck, of the way Riko’s eyes grew wide and then narrowed in anger, of how the prick took a couple of steps forward before Tetsuji called out his name.

Riko wasn’t allowed to participate in any of the scrimmages after that, and Tetsuji made sure to keep his rabid nephew by his side as they went over the stats and line-up once more before the game. Neil was given a pointed look from the elder Moriyama and told to make himself ‘presentable’ for the game before the Ravens were released to have a quick meal and a short break, and all of them were intent on getting out of Riko’s reach as quickly as possible.

All except Mills and Dixon, Neil noticed as he cast a quick glance up at the East Tower.

Meg blushed a little as she ate her steamed fish and kept glancing at Neil’s now hickey ‘free’ neck (thanks to the bottle of makeup in his locker). “Uhm, so you and Ichirou?” she asked.

“Don’t say that name so casually,” Jean corrected her with a rare harshness, as it was the four of them, along with Janna and Declan at the table.

“Yes,” Neil answered, because what else could he say? Especially when there would be more trips up to the East Tower, and anywhere else Ichirou wanted him. “Not that it’s to be talked about, uhm, okay?” He glanced at Declan who nodded.

“Okay,” Meg agreed with a smile. “As long as you’re happy.” She missed the look which Marley gave her just then, a mix of incredulousness and pity, which made him think that Marley suspected that it wasn’t a simple case of Neil finding a nice guy who liked him back.

Then again, Marley knew a bit more about the Moriyamas and probably found it suspicious that Neil was suddenly ‘dating’ someone, especially after some of the things that Riko had done.

“So, front row seats for some posh game, yeah?” Declan asked with a too bright smile. “You guys better not lose tonight since I bet a fortune on ya.”

Neil realized that the enforcer was trying to distract them right then… and was grateful to the man. Janna started berating Declan for being tactless while Jean sneered at him that he’d probably be bored since a soccer ball wasn’t involved (which wasn’t a really valid argument considering he was French), and Marley argued that she should receive a portion of Declan’s winnings since she earned it for him, dammit.

The game against Penn State went about as well as Neil had expected; the Lions put up one hell of a fight, but the Ravens were on their home court and refused to give up their crown. Riko calmed down enough to deal with Neil and Jean while out on court and in front of the cameras, but there wasn’t as much teamwork as usual which meant that Neil had to work twice as hard for each of his goals and to keep up the illusion that Riko wasn’t really a huge fucking prick. Between that and playing against one of the division’s better teams for most of the game, he was exhausted by the end of it and wanted to do nothing more than to crawl in his own bed where it was (should be) safe so he could end a too-long day, could forget about everything Moriyama related for a few hours.

The Ravens had won and were headed to the semi-finals.

Friday was classes on a campus full of excited students and an unstable Riko back to Detroit, which helped to make things bearable, and that evening the Foxes won their game against the Binghamton Bearcats. Since Marley had passed on a message from Andrew that he was sorry for the way their last call had gone (which had surprised Neil, both that his friend had gone through her and had actually apologized), Neil pushed aside the nervousness he felt over another confrontation with Andrew and called the goalie, only to slowly relax as Andrew kept his word (mostly, there had been the question about Riko, after all, but he’d allowed it in the first place).

Something inside of Neil had eased after that call, in knowing that Andrew wasn’t upset with him (at least, not anymore), in knowing that he still had that one thing in his life when so much had changed in the past couple of weeks. What might have started as an obligation and an annoyance had become something he’d looked forward to after all, a challenge and… and an amusement, he supposed, because of the way it made him feel good when he talked to Andrew. Jean was the only other person he could be so honest with, after all, that it was nice to have Andrew in his life as well.

Even if the other young man frustrated the hell out of him at times. After another week spent maneuvering around Riko and Tetsuji, of Susan and Sophie and several other Ravens spending as much time as possible near him, Jean and the girls since it assured them some protection from Riko’s increasingly frequent ‘tantrums’, of him responding to the occasional text from Ichirou (he thought the man might be checking up on him, but to his surprise the wryly worded complaints about what were most likely various crime lords were amusing)… he wasn’t in the mood to put up with Andrew’s apathy toward Exy the following Saturday. The goalie was playing with one of the best strikers alive (as much as Neil despised Day for abandoning Jean, the bastard still was talented as hell) and had played a part on getting the Foxes to the semi-finals that season. Yet Neil hadn’t lied when he told Andrew that the team was going to crash and burn against the Trojans if the lazy (goth) bastard didn’t put in some real effort for once.

Actually, they were going to crash and burn regardless, but still, it bothered him how Andrew had so much talent, could be one of the best goalies in Exy if not _the_ best, and didn’t seem to care.

That Friday night the Ravens gathered in one of the larger social rooms, dressed in their EA sweats and general mood relaxed for once since they didn’t have a game that week. There were sports drinks and bottles of flavored water, stacks of energy and granola bars and bowls of fruit, and most of them showed up with smoothies in their hands (‘approved’ snacks for the closest thing to a party in the Nest). Neil knew that some of the upperclassmen had alcohol stashed in their rooms, but with Akagi watching the game in the back to take notes on the Trojans, nobody would risk Tetsuji’s wrath to sneak it into their drinks that night.

Neil, Jean and the girls took a couch for themselves with Neil tucked against Jean’s side and Marley next to him, while Susan, Haley, Naomi and Amy grabbed some pillows to sit in front of them. Bren and Janna were over in a corner (Neil suspected that _they_ had smuggled in a couple of beers), Sophie and Ben had a large recliner to themselves, and Leif and Toby were nearby as well.

There were some ‘boos’ when Day came on screen along with various wrappers thrown at the large television, and in general mocking comments made about the Foxes as the sports commentators went over their stats and profiles. There were even some jokes about the Trojans along the lines of ‘goody-two shoes’ and ‘aw, how sweet’ followed by retching noises – mostly from Federov, Bautista and Tollis. Neil found it interesting how whenever Knox was on the screen, Jean would still and pay attention to the Trojan’s captain.

The Ravens burst out into laughter when they heard about the Trojans’ line-up for the night, followed by more mocking about ‘go for that stupid Day award, you losers’ and so forth, again mostly from the Riko’s little ‘clique’. Neil could tell that Meg was growing uncomfortable from it, and was grateful when Akagi told everyone to be quiet and concentrate on the game.

As for himself, Neil was impressed that the Trojans were dedicated enough to the sport to risk an important game to meet their opponents on such an equal footing, even if he thought that they were a bit foolish to almost throw their chance at the championship away like that. Still, he supposed that was why the Trojans did win the Kayleigh Day Spirit Award every time… and the Ravens didn’t.

Even with nearly cutting their team down to a third to match the Foxes’ line-up, the Trojans won, as Neil had predicted. Perhaps if Andrew had managed to remain in the goal for the entire game or if Gordon hadn’t been red carded the Foxes would have stood a better chance, or if Yee had another year or two of experience and so could offer more of a challenge to the Trojan’s impressive defense.

Unfortunately, none of those things were true, so the Foxes went home with a loss during the semi-finals, and there was no way that anyone could believe that they would defeat the Ravens when they’d just lost to the Trojans like that, when they would be down a player when the two teams faced off next. Even if Andrew played both halves and studied Neil and Marley’s tactics for the next two weeks… no, it wasn’t going to happen, because Neil and Marley knew Andrew that much better now, too, and had spent all these weeks playing together, in improving their own game.

Neil may have gone into the season as the unknown, untried rookie, but he’d had no choice but to give the game his all, to spend _hours_ almost each and every day for nearly a year training with the best players in the NCAA Class I division. Looking back at his senior year in Millport, he couldn’t remember how he’d fumbled his way onto the court as a newbie striker, not when compared to now. As much as he loathed Tetsuji and Riko, they had indeed pulled whatever talent he had to the fore, just like they’d sworn to do last spring.

It was a bit of a late call that Saturday since Andrew had traveled back from California the night before, one Neil opened with a mocking “I told you so.”

“Clever little birdies should be quiet,” Andrew said, his deep voice thickened with exhaustion.

“Ah, I think it’s _my_ turn to say ‘you sound tired’,” Neil remarked as he leaned against Jean’s knees and sipped his tea. “We can skip this-“

“No, it’s finally my turn again,” Andrew insisted, which made Neil tense up to hear – he hadn’t thought about how it was his friend’s turn to ask questions again. “Just give me a minute, Nicky’s coffee always sucks, it’s like water.”

“Oh, okay.” Neil forced himself to relax, helped a little by a worried Jean rubbing the nape of his neck. “Are you on campus?”

“Yeah, too tired to drive home this weekend. That and _someone’s_ frothing at the mouth about practicing for our next game.” Andrew sounded just a little bitter at the moment.

“Do I have to say it again?”

“Do and I’ll have yet another reason to kick your scrawny ass,” Andrew drawled, his tone a bit sour that time.

“Too much effort for a lazy goth like you,” Neil taunted.

“Yet. Another. Reason,” Andrew said, but Neil could pick up the hint of amusement in his voice.

“Hmm.” Neil sipped his tea, and it sounded like Andrew was drinking as well.

“All right.” Andrew cleared his throat while Neil braced himself for a question he’d have to turn down or deflect. “Cats or dogs?”

Neil choked on the last sip of tea he’d just taken, causing Jean to snatch the mug from his hand while also pounding him on the back. “Whu-what?” he asked when he finished coughing and could speak again.

“Someone have a problem doing two things at a time there, little birdy? No wonder you’re on a sports scholarship,” Andrew sneered. “I asked you ‘cats or dogs’? Which do you prefer?”

“Ah….” Yes, he _had_ heard that correctly, it seemed. Neil chewed on his bottom lip as he wondered if Andrew’s meds had gotten messed up somehow before he sighed and laughed a little. “I don’t… I never had a pet,” he admitted as he leaned back against Jean again, assuming that’s what Andrew had meant by the question. “I couldn’t… well, obviously it wasn’t a good idea to have one even if it was allowed, back in Baltimore.” He shuddered a little to think about what would have happened to the poor thing in his father’s house, what Lola had made him do to those dead pigs. Jean gave him a worried look when his breath hitched at the memory. “And, uhm, then we were on the run and there was no way to keep a pet, not when we never stayed anyplace very long, when we might have to leave in the middle of the night.”

Andrew was quiet for a moment, which made Neil wonder if he was thinking of his own past and all those foster homes. “And if you could have one now? A cat or a dog?” he asked, his voice stripped of all the false cheer or mocking humor it sometimes contained.

Neil gave it some genuine thought before he settled on an answer. “A cat,” he decided. “They don’t need as much attention, right? And I… I always liked cats. They’re smart and independent, yet still seem friendly.” He’d run into a lot over the years, strays and pets allowed outside, beautiful and ragged creatures he could pet and give a few minutes attention and affection (and the rare bit of food he might have on him now and then) when his mother had been busy with something else. A few minutes when he could pretend that he had a home, had a place where something as frivolous as a kitten was possible, where he could keep something as fragile as a small animal safe when his own future was so dubious.

Dogs? They were noisy and suspicious and to be avoided, especially when one was sneaking around and trying not to attract attention. Neil had been chased by them often enough, had dealt with sleek, large beasts with sharp teeth and loud barks and fast gaits to really feel comfortable around them.

“Cats,” he repeated.

“ _Of course, you’re the devil_ ,” Jean remarked with a smile while he tugged on a strand of Neil’s bangs. “ _A witch’s familiar for you_.”

“What was that?” Andrew asked, even though he sounded bored and ready to fall asleep.

“I think someone needs a new sense of humor,” Neil declared as he poked at Jean’s chest. “But he’s French, so it probably won’t help any.”

Jean gave him the finger.

“How cute,” Andrew drawled.

“So, which do you prefer?” Neil asked. “Dogs or cats?”

It was quiet for a moment before Andrew answered. “Not your turn this week,” he replied with evident smugness.

“Oh _fuck you_ ,” Neil said while laughing. “Get some sleep, you asshole.”

“Kick some Trojan asses for me,” Andrew told him. “Too damn nice, it gave me the creeps.”

“Just for you,” Neil promised before he hung up.

The Foxes’ loss put Riko in a good mood – he at last was vindicated, was proven right about Kevin Day not having what it took to produce a winning team. Never mind that Day had managed to take a team of ten players who had only once before made it to the playoff season and managed to reach the semi-final round that time, had managed to prove all the naysayers wrong and made the Palmetto State Foxes a team to consider moving forward. _No one_ had expected them to make it to the finals, and more than a few people seemed to be cheering them on against the Ravens despite knowing that they’d lose.

Still, Riko spent about half the time in his interviews leading up to the game against the Trojans going on about the Foxes’ loss, remarking about what a ‘shame’ it was that Kevin had fallen so far and couldn’t acknowledge that his best days were behind him. He didn’t seem to realize that people were questioning if Riko had seen the same game that they had watched, had witnessed how close the Foxes had come to winning, had steadily watched how Kevin had regained his former ability during the past season and how there was talk that he might be back to his old form in another year or so.

Riko didn’t seem to realize that there were rumblings online about possible jealousy and the inability to accept the fact that Kevin had moved on from the Ravens, had moved on from _Riko_.

Neil knew it was only a matter of time before those posts reached his ‘captain’, and it would add to the growing instability, would be another strike against Riko’s damaged ego. The last time Riko had learned of such things, he’d taken it out on his partner. However, Kevin Day wasn’t around for him to break anymore, nor was Neil or Jean.

Cal Dixon was the unlucky soul that time, right before they flew out to California. “The old man’s trying to keep it quiet,” Bren informed Neil and Jean as they prepared for their flight. “Akagi found the poor kid late last night.”

Jean murmured what sounded to be a mix between a curse and a prayer while Neil paused in packing his overnight bag. “Will he be able to play again?”

Bren shook his head. “I don’t know. Quentin helped out and said there were a lot of nasty breaks involved.” At Neil’s questioning look at him and then down at the phone he was about to pack, he gave a curt nod. “Yeah, from what I hear, Stuart made sure Ichirou knew what happened. He’s not chancing that the little prick gets out of hand and makes a go for you.”

“Good.” Dixon rarely spent any time on court, but the Ravens didn’t have a plethora of dealers and his absence would be noticed. If anything happened to Sophie and Haley, he was expected to be their back-up, and it wasn’t unheard of for teams to go through players this late in the season when the stakes were high. The Ravens’ saving grace were that they were playing the Trojans, who refused to resort to dirty tactics, and the Foxes, who tended to avoid such things as well.

Word must have gotten out about Dixon because the mood was quiet going to the airport, and Riko never left his uncle’s side, not even when there were requests for autographs. Neil somehow found it in himself to smile and bear with the attention, to not flinch from the people pressing near him and wanting to take their picture with him, though as always the girls and Jean did their best to act as a buffer between him and the fans.

There was a message from Ichirou wishing him ‘good luck’ when he landed in California. Upon walking through LAX and spying some of the items in the gift shops, Neil texted him back to ask what his thoughts were on bears.

Jean, who happened to be looking over his shoulder at the time, took to cursing for some reason. “What?” Neil asked in confusion.

“ _You are driving me to drink_!” Jean proclaimed while he rubbed his temples as if in pain.

“ _I just want to know which stuffed animal to get him_ ,” Neil said with a frown. “ _Stop being so dramatic_.”

“ _Stop being a devil from hell sent to plague me_!”

“They always like this before a game?” Bren asked a smirking Marley while Meg filmed the whole thing.

“Yep.”

Neil grew even more confused when, right before they reached USC, Ichirou responded back with ‘I hope that was in regards to our talk about souvenirs. If so, only then are they fine’.

“Uhm, what else would I be talking about?” Neil asked as he showed Jean the message.

There was a lot more muttering about ‘ _devils_ ’ and _‘sent to plague me, why I don’t know_ ’ and _‘I need a fucking drink_ ’, followed by ‘ _oh hell, look what you’ve done, I sound like **Kevin** , are you happy now?_’.

Neil shoved his phone into his pocket and glared at nothing in particular. “Go to hell, I was just asking about _bears_.”

“Wait, what?” Marley twisted in the seat in front of them to gape at him for some reason. “ _Bear_ bears?”

“What other types are there?” Neil asked while Bren took to coughing as if he was choking on something.

Even Meg started laughing while Marley continued to look at him as if he was crazy. “You mean you really don’t know that it also means-“

“ _Don’t_ ,” Jean told her in that tone of his which meant he’d had it and there was to be no more discussion. “We’re done with this topic.”

Marley looked as if she wanted to argue before she shook her head. “Okay, Crusty, go ahead and let our beloved child grow up in ignorance,” she said before sinking back down while Meg laughed even harder.

“I hate you all so very, very much,” Neil wanted them to know that without any doubt.

“Good, I’m so pleased that I’m not suffering alone,” Jean shot back with obvious delight.

“You guys got issues. I mean, I’m used to it, working with Hatfords and all, but… yeah, _issues_ ,” Bren declared from where he was leaning against the emergency exit.

If there was such a thing as karmic justice (doubtful, very doubtful), Neil got some of his own back after they arrived at USC, had changed into their uniforms and were out on the court so they could warm up (with Bren remaining off to the side so he didn’t attract too much attention). For some reason, Jeremy Knox decided to come over to ‘greet’ the Ravens, only to be brushed off by Riko who seemed determined to ignore everyone but his uncle. Undaunted by the cold reception, Knox glanced around as if looking for someone – and grinned like a fool when he spotted Jean.

“Jean! Hey, how are you!” the striker called out as he ran over, layered blond hair flopping around his face while Jean went stiff next to Neil and Marley paused in doing her leg stretches to stand up.

“Uhm, wow, white teeth,” Meg murmured while she continued to stretch her arms.

“Surfer dude,” Marley drawled beneath her breath, which earned her a dirty look from Jean right before Knox all but barreled into them, all bright smile and golden blond hair and sun-tanned skin. He had a few inches on Neil with a much more solid build, but was still almost half a foot shorter than Jean’s lean 6’2”.  That and he was wearing the Trojan’s eye-catching (eye-searing) red and gold uniform.

“Jean! It’s been a while, yes? You look… you look really good!” Was it Neil’s imagination or had Knox’s blue eyes taken a moment to look his partner up and down, and was there a hint of red to those golden-hued cheeks? Considering that Marley had just given him a slight nudge in the side, he’d say ‘no’.

“It’s been about a year since we defeated you at the previous final game,” Jean replied with a little _too_ much stiffness, which made Neil arch an eyebrow. “How can they make someone with such an atrocious memory a captain?”

Instead of being insulted, Knox laughed with what looked to be genuine amusement. “Ah, you’re still the same! Always so quick with a comeback, I wish I was clever like you.” He grinned at Jean as he rubbed the back of his head, which made his hair even more tousled. “So are you staying after the game or flying right back to West Virginia? I was trying to talk to Riko about maybe there being some sort of mixer for our teams since we rarely get a chance to do anything together, being in different districts and all, but-“

“You need to talk to the- to our coach,” Jean informed him with the same amount of stiffness as before. “But I doubt such a thing will be allowed, _we’re_ still in training.” He sniffed a little as he glanced aside. “Perhaps if you socialized less you’d have a chance of winning for once.”

There was a flash of something on Knox’s face, perhaps disappointment, and then he grinned as if unbothered by the rebuke. “Yeah, I’ll try again to talk to him, or have Coach do it. Hopefully I’ll be able to see you later, okay?” He nodded at Neil. “It’s really good to meet you in person – Neil, right? I’m looking forward to playing against you after hearing about you all season.” He held out his hand, which Neil forced himself to accept and give a quick shake.

Knox gave a similar greeting to Marley and Meg, and managed to sound genuine each time. After the quick introductions, he smiled once more at Jean before he ran back to his team’s ‘side’ of the court while Jean continued to ignore him. “So… that was Knox, eh?” Neil said to his partner.

“A ridiculous excuse of a captain.”

Someone was rather harsh there, weren’t they? Marley seemed to pick up on that as she grinned at Jean. “I don’t know, he’s too nice to be trusted but he seemed easy on the eyes, no?”

Meg was quick to agree. “Oh yes, definitely good looking. I won’t mind knocking _him_ around tonight, no no no.”

Jean gave her a slight sneer. “I’ll be sure to let your boyfriend know that next week.”

Meg rolled her eyes and stuck her tongue out at Jean. “Please, Kenny knows I’m out here knocking cute guys down all the time. It doesn’t matter as long as my heart is true to him.”

“I… why is this my life? _Why_?” Jean asked in a rather broken voice as he looked heavenward.

“Because you’re French,” Neil told him without any hesitation, and laughed when he was grabbed to have his hair tousled while his partner ranted about insolent British devils.

“French and have a surfer boy crushing on you,” Marley added when Jean finally let Neil go. “You’re so _clever_ , dude,” she said in an exaggerated Californian accent.

Meg wasn’t to be left out of the teasing. “Oh, _Jean_ , can we spend a little time together? It’s just a social mixer, I _swear_ – curse our districts being so far apart!”

Jean gave both of them a cold look for several seconds. “They will _never_ find your bodies,” he stated before stalking away.

Neil trailed after him while the girls loudly proclaimed their love for their ‘favorite crusty baguette’, smiling despite himself. “I think they might have a point, and you know how bad _I’m_ at picking up on these things.”

Jean seemed to ignore him in favor of checking their racquets before sighing. “Jeremy… it’s just the way he is,” he said before looking at Neil. “He’s like that with everyone – you should see him with Kevin.” He sounded rather wistful admitting that.

“Right, which was why he seemed so happy to see _you_ , and why he was upset when you turned him down.” Neil held up his hands when Jean shook his head. “Not that it matters, I guess, when we’re going to kick his ass soon enough and head back to Charleston.”

“Yes, exactly.” Still, Jean seemed a little pensive while they went over the racquets, at least until Marley and Meg joined them, and then he was back to his normal disdainful self.

After that they joined the rest of the Ravens in doing laps and drills, and didn’t have any more time to focus on Knox and possible crushes. It didn’t surprise anyone that the Trojans had the entire team on their line-up that night against them, no special ‘changes’ up their sleeve that time; Neil and Riko faced off against Knox and Garcia, with Alvarez and Price on defense against Jean and Bautista.

The Trojans were even better than the Lions, were a more cohesive team used to relying on skill rather than tricks to get them the points… but they were also the team that the Ravens had heard about all year long that was the one most likely to take their ‘crown’ away from them, the team most likely to beat them now that Kevin Day was gone.

As if one person was all that kept the Ravens from being the best, from being champions. As if one person was the reason that they’d won over the years and not the blood and sweat and devotion they poured into the game, the hours on their court, the sacrifices they made. People should have known better when the Trojans had failed to win the division title last year, and the Ravens weren’t about to let the Trojans walk away with it that year, either.

Especially not after listening to all those doubts for so long, and not after putting up with _Riko_ since Day had fled the Nest. _They_ had stayed, _they_ wore the black and red colors, and _they_ would see the team through to another championship title, another banner hanging in their home.

The Trojans might have their sportsmanship and camaraderie, but the Ravens had their devotion and their will and their drive. Neil might not trust Bautista anywhere else, but once the game buzzer rang out on that court, he knew the backliner would have his back for those four quarters, would have an eye out for the ball to pass it on to him and Riko, would keep the Trojan players out of his way (as would Jean). It was the same with the rest of the Ravens – whatever their differences anytime and anywhere else, all that mattered on that court was the game, was winning.

Even Riko had to put aside some of his ego and hatred for the time being. Oh, if he could make the goal instead of anyone else, he would, but he wouldn’t risk the Trojans gaining the ball for the sake of his own statistics. All eyes were on the court right then, after all.

Still, Neil couldn’t help but notice that Riko was rougher than he needed to be, his checks harder than they should, his moves a little sloppy, to the point that he was actually yellow carded early in the second quarter and pulled so Toby could come out in his place. The bastard was lucky he wasn’t handed a red card, actually, and it wasn’t a surprise that he wasn’t put back in the game until the fourth quarter. Toby, Engle, Tollis and Marley certainly didn’t complain about all the game time they got to see that night.

The game ended twelve – eight in the Ravens’ favor, with Neil feeling as if his legs would give out at any moment when the final buzzer rang. Since Marley was already off of the court, Meg came to give him a quick hug and lend him a shoulder until they met Jean at the center point, where his partner took over as his support and shield despite the fact that Jean wasn’t in much better shape.

There were times when Neil questioned everything that had happened to him in his life – his father, all those years on the run, his mother’s death and ending up in the Nest… but he could honestly say that Jean was the _one_ good thing out of it all. When Marley and Meg closed in to keep everyone else at bay as the court grew crowded with people joining the Ravens celebrating their win or helping the Trojans commiserate their loss (and cheer them on that they would do better in the finals since they’d outscored the Foxes even with their loss and so were certain to have clinched the spot against the Ravens), he knew that he still didn’t regret his decision to step in to ‘claim’ them.

So two (three) good things out of everything, even with being Moriyama property and the mark on his cheek, the deal with Ichirou and Nakamura approaching to say that Tetsuji wanted him and Jean to sit in on an interview with Riko (no doubt in hopes of more damage control).

Bren had assured Neil earlier that there was a suite waiting for them at the hotel which the four of them would share with him, where they could rest under the enforcer’s protection before catching a plane with the team back to Charleston. Neil would get Ichirou the damn sea lion stuffed animal or maybe the cat (cougar? mountain lion?), since no one would tell him what the deal was about bears, and next week they’d be back at Palmetto State.

Next week he’d see Andrew again, which made him happy for some reason. Probably because he knew and (sort of) trusted so few people (especially those who weren’t Ravens or tied to the Hatfords in some manner), so Andrew was someone special, was different. It would be interesting to see if they could manage talking to each other without knives or walls or something violent involved… but that just made it interesting, Neil supposed.

Jean nudged him in the side as they followed Nakamura to where the reporters were waiting for them. “ _That’s a new smile. I’m not sure I like it since it still looks like trouble_.”

“ _Why is everything with me trouble somehow_?” Neil asked as he pulled off the sweat-soaked black bandana holding back his hair.

Jean’s expression grew weary as he sighed. “ _Because that’s what you are, a troublesome devil_.”

“ _I adore you, too, my crusty baguette_ ,” Neil told him – and the reporters were treated to an image of Jean with his left arm wrapped around Neil’s upper chest as he seemed to be attempting to smother a laughing Neil with his own bandana.

(It might have received more hits/likes/reposts than any of Riko’s that weekend.)

*******

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *******  
> WTF it's over 200k and we're just getting to the end of the first year *sobs*.
> 
> I don't know why, I really liked a few lines in this chapter.
> 
> Jeremy! Yes, I promised you Andreil, and I think you can figure out another (eventual) pairing.... Jean deserves the world.
> 
> Hmm, I hope the next chapter isn't too short, there's going to be two important games in it, I know that much.
> 
> There's probably more I wanted to say, but this needs to get posted now.
> 
> As always, thank you so much for any comments and kudos!  
> *******


	13. We Fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, summary of the last chapter? Andrew presses Neil about what happened in New York City/after Kengo's death and is shot down, much to his displeasure. Jean calls him and tells him to back off (which also makes him unhappy), but lets it slip that Neil had been really looking forward to their call, so Andrew decides that he'll let the topic lie for the time being and the boys return to their weekly calls, with Andrew owing two answers by way of a rare apology. Renee tells Andrew about her relationship with Allison and how Seth is trying to get back with Allison, and they have a nice (for them) talk.
> 
> Aaron shows up for Andrew's weekly sessions with Bee, seemingly intent on something (Katelyn is Andrew's guess). Andrew is a little put out with Bee on his presence, but Bee explains that she feels it's time that SOMETHING happens to improve the brother's relationship. Meanwhile, the Foxes play against the Trojans and despite the Trojans proving themselves to be the most fair team in the league, the Foxes lose (though not by much).
> 
> Back in the Nest, the team is adjusting to Neil, Jean and the girls being under Tetsuji's protection... especially Riko. Bren steps in to make sure that everyone (RIKO) understands that they're not to be touched, putting on a couple of very graphic displays (breaking Riko's racquet, breaking Federov's hand) to prove his point. The team seems to be slowly splitting into two - those siding with Riko and those siding with Neil and Jean as they look for protection from an increasingly unstable Riko. 
> 
> Meanwhile, Neil does his best to adjust to his deal with Ichirou, spending 'time' with him before the game against the Trojans, which the Ravens win (though Neil and the girls are interested to notice that a certain Trojan captain is somewhat fascinated with their favorite backliner). At the end, Neil is looking forward to playing the Foxes again before the final game, is looking forward seeing his friend Andrew.  
> ********
> 
> Okay, first off? Thank you SO MUCH for the comments on the last chapter, which I'm SO BEHIND ON in responding - I started on them and then things got busy and I realized how much I still had to write this week and... yeah. I'm hoping maybe tonight/tomorrow. But this chapter turned into a MONSTER (I think it's longer than the last one?) and I have an owed gift fic so... yeah. 
> 
> But! LONG CHAPTER!!! We really get a lot done here and start moving on to new territory! YAY! I hope you like it. *frets* And it doesn't seem too rushed or unclear or all that at the end. That the changes make sense. More on that at the end.
> 
> Uhm... no new warnings? 
> 
> And thanks to Fall-for-the-Game for the beta!  
> *******

*******

With two weeks until the last game of the season for the Foxes, when they played against the Ravens, Kevin didn’t want to go back to Columbia. No, he _wanted_ to spend as much time as he could practicing for his rematch against Riko, for when he proved to the prick how far he’d come since last October.

Oh, and maybe, just _maybe_ , Riko’s recent comments to the press had a little something to do with it, all the lovely remarks about how Kevin was a failure and washed up and would never amount to anything anymore, per the Foxes’ recent loss to the Trojans.

Andrew was surprised that Kevin wasn’t breaking down under the assault, wasn’t spending his evenings drunk and watching old Ravens’ games when he’d been out on the court with his former partner, but instead planning strategies with Wymack and working out on the court. It probably helped that the online support was mostly for him, the comments on the forums and articles along the lines of ‘wtf is going on with Riko?’ and ‘Kevin Day is actually doing a hell of a lot better than I ever expected’.

The Foxes (minus Gordon) gathered together in the lounge at the stadium to watch the game between the Trojans and the Ravens on Friday, Wymack joining them that night and splurging on pizzas once again since he was done recruiting for the season. He ignored the beers being passed around, other than to make sure that Renee was driving the upperclassmen (plus Yee) back to the dorms and to get a nod out of Andrew that he’d see the ‘monsters’ back safely as well, then settled down in a chair once the game began.

It went about as well as everyone had expected, with the Ravens taking the lead early and refusing to give it up. Neil and Riko were the starting strikers, and Neil (as well as Moreau) didn’t leave the court at all, other than at half-time.

Kevin let out a low moan as if in pain when Riko was yellow carded and removed from the court by a blank-faced Tetsuji. “Wow, is someone a little grumpy tonight or what?” Nicky asked as he opened a new can of beer. “They get an extra dose of asshole-ness before the game?”

“That’s not going to look good, considering he’s playing the nicest team in the league,” Reynolds remarked, her left arm draped over a frowning Renee’s shoulders in the most open display of affection Andrew had seen between them as of yet – he’d say that Renee didn’t have anything to worry about Reynolds going back to Gordon. “Doing a blatant foul like that.”

“No, it’s not,” Kevin agreed as he rubbed at his left hand. “He should know better.”

Meaning that Riko should know to hide his fangs better when on national television and in front of the crowds, which probably explained why Tetsuji kept him off of the court for the rest of the game. It meant that Neil worked hard and scored the majority of points himself, though he did help assist the other Ravens and wasn’t a glory whore like Riko.

Yee cheered and acted like an idiot when Curtis was out on the court in the last quarter, going on about ‘his’ girl, and for some reason Neil and her shared a grin when she managed to knock Knox around to get the ball so Saunders could score a goal. It wasn’t long after that when the clock ran out, and Curtis helped a clearly exhausted Neil join the rest of the Ravens to celebrate, with Moreau taking over his usual position of Neil’s guard dog.

Wilds got up to turn off the television, the rest of the Foxes quiet all of a sudden. “They keep getting better, but so do we.” She folded her arms over her chest as she gazed around the room. “I know we’re down a player and no one expects us to win, but that doesn’t mean we can’t go out there on Friday and give ‘em our best, to show them that we’re not a team to be taken lightly ever again.”

Boyd, Renee, Reynolds, Yee and even Nicky cheered at that while Kevin nodded, and Wymack stood up and clapped as he went to stand beside Wilds. “Exactly,” he said while nodding. “No one expected you to make it this far except the people in this room, and I’ve never been prouder of you lot. No matter what happens next week, I know you’ve given this season your all, each and every one of you.” He paused to look at all of them and nodded again. “That said, let’s end it by proving those arrogant bastards wrong, yeah? They’re not coming here for an easy win, not this time.”

“They’re going to have to work for once,” Boyd agreed as he punched his left fist into his right hand. “The spoiled assholes will have to work up a sweat and all.”

“Meg’s not an asshole,” Yee muttered. “But yeah, they’re not gonna walk all over us this time!”

While Nicky cheered at that, Kevin rose to his feet and glared at everyone. “Do you really think it’s going to be that simple? After watching that last game?” He gestured to the large screen behind Wymack and Wilds. “They have some of the best players in the division and they’ve beaten teams better than us because their mindset is to never give up, to keep striving for perfection. You don’t put in _half_ the amount of time in practice that they do!”

“We’ve heard this before,” Reynolds complained while most of the Foxes took to glaring at Kevin. “So what, just give up? Not happening.”

“No, but you could try harder, dammit,” Kevin snapped. “The Ravens won’t be wasting any time between now and next Friday on parties or movie nights or shopping or mooning over their girlfriends,” Yee grew flushed at that, “they’ll be out on court practicing.” Kevin looked around the room and scowled when Aaron gave him the finger. “If you want to prove that we got to the semi-finals as more than a fluke, you’ll join me out there tomorrow.”

When nobody said anything, Wymack clapped his hands together again. “All right, be careful driving back to the dorms, and I better see you bright and early on Monday. We got a busy week ahead of us.”

Kevin scowled at everyone a little more as they left, and Andrew didn’t expect to see the rest of the Foxes, other than Renee on Sunday, until Monday. So he was surprised when Nicky and Yee tagged along Saturday morning with him and Kevin to the stadium, and when Wilds and Boyd showed up an hour or so later.

Andrew expected Kevin to revert back to his domineering asshole coaching personality from over a year ago, but he merely gave them a knowing grin (not that much of an improvement) and spent a short amount of time showing the Foxes the first Ravens’ drill (or in Yee’s case, another one), so they could work on that while Kevin practiced off by himself. Andrew watched the five of them for a short while to ensure that Kevin didn’t antagonize anyone (especially Boyd) to the point where a racquet or a ball came flying at his head before he resumed checking things on his phone while he waited for Neil’s call.

A certain little birdy had taken part in the post-game interview last night, and social media was afire with pictures of him and Moreau ‘goofing’ around; some photographers had caught Neil laughing while Moreau seemed to be pushing a black cloth against his face.

The Ravens fans were going crazy over the pictures, along with a good bit of other Exy fans – it wasn’t often that such ‘high ranked’ Ravens were caught off-guard like that, even on their Instagram accounts, and for it to be two popular ones like Neil and Moreau? For it to be a shot which showed what appeared to be a close bond between the two, what with Neil laughing like that, his eyes bright with humor and pretty face lit up with the emotion, and even a rare smile on Moreau’s usually dour face?

It was a stark contrast to the almost always composed Riko and often critical Kevin, who over the years had provided a unified front but never such a genuine display like that. A display which was backed by how Neil and Moreau smiled and looked at each other during the interview, sometimes finishing each other’s sentences or slipping into French for a few words as they carried on a mini-conversation, how they gave each other credit (along with Riko and the rest of the Ravens) one moment and then would bicker the next.

After listening to Riko’s by then familiar rant against Kevin and the Foxes, the reporters appeared more interested in asking questions to Neil and Moreau, especially considering their antics. They appeared a bit surprised by the attention, while Riko sat at the other end of the table with a fixed grin on his face that Andrew bet would have Kevin flinching as soon as he saw it.

Over all, people’s impressions of the interview were that Riko was turning into a jealous asshole, and it was no wonder that Kevin was sticking with the Foxes. It was clear that Neil and Jean had a much better partnership, that they didn’t let their egos get in the way and blah blah blah.

All Andrew cared about was that Riko was taking a beating online, that people seemed to be realizing that something wasn’t ‘all there’ with the prick. His only concern was that Neil didn’t get hurt as a result since the last time Riko thought someone was about to overshadow him, he took a racquet to their hand.

Yet Neil had said something about there being an ‘understanding’ between the two of them, and he didn’t seemed concerned about Riko’s uncomfortable silence during the interview.

Andrew had set his phone aside so it would still have a charge for the phone call and was watching Kevin practice, his attention drawn to how the striker had just taken a few swings with his racquet held in his _left_ hand, when Neil finally called. “Nice to see you’re not too famous to talk to the little people,” Andrew said as he continued to watch Kevin.

“I made an exception for a short bastard like you,” Neil said, which earned a slight huff from Andrew. “I can’t believe how much of a fuss people are making over that damn picture,” he went on to complain.

“It looks like someone’s trying to muzzle a smart-mouthed little shit like you, who wouldn’t love it?”

“See, I was going to _try_ to work up a bit of sympathy for when we embarrass you in your own garish stadium, but now I’m not even going to bother,” Neil declared.

“Yes, I find that oh so believable,” Andrew drawled. He paused to light a cigarette while Neil complained in French to Moreau about how he was being treated ‘so unkindly’ and let out a slow breath after holding the smoke in his lungs for a second or two. “So, what’s your question this week, hmm? Wanna ask if Kevin’s faithful to his racquet?”

“Ew,” Neil complained, to which Andrew had to agree. “Uhm… hey! I know, tell me about bears.”

Moreau started shouting ‘ _no!_ ’ in the background while Andrew frowned at that weird request and reaction. “They’re mammals, large furry fucks who live in the woods, mostly. Which leads one to wonder ‘what the hell’ and what’s Valjean’s problem?”

“Not _those_ bears, and stop it, Jean.” Neil sounded annoyed and there was some muffled grunting as if the two Ravens got into a shoving match. “Jean and Marley won’t tell me about another kind of bears and I can’t use this phone for searching, that doesn’t work down here in the Nest and they keep track of our internet use so I have to be careful what I look up.”

“Dear god, _don’t_ ,” Moreau warned. “Don’t ever try,” he told Neil.

Oh, _those_ kinds of bears, Andrew realized as the pieces slowly came together. “Seriously? You don’t know that a ‘bear’ refers to a hairy, normally stocky or muscular gay guy?” He still was a little confused over why Neil wanted to know… confused and somewhat angry.

It was quiet for a second or two (save for Moreau’s muttering) before Neil groaned. “What? _Really_? You mean….” He took to cursing in what sounded to be a few different languages, switching back and forth too quickly for Andrew to understand anything.

“How could you not know?” Andrew asked, since Neil seemed to know a wide variety of things and by no means had led a sheltered life from what he’d picked up in their little truth game.

“I just… I didn’t.” Neil seemed rather flustered at the moment. “I told you, I don’t swing! I never learned much about sex – I mean, I knew the basics and everything, they taught me that in a couple of schools,” he started babbling while Moreau took to murmuring his name as if to calm him down. “But that was the _basics_ , it wasn’t things about _bears_ or weird names or more than kissing and I didn’t _want_ or _need_ to know this stuff until-“

Neil’s voice, which had taken on a bit of a panicked edge, cut off abruptly as if he’d realized what he was saying, what he was _about_ to say. Andrew could hear his breathing, a little too fast and too shallow, while Moreau told him it was all right, that he was okay in French.

Except Neil wasn’t, was he? Because Andrew realized what Neil _hadn’t_ said – that he hadn’t wanted or needed to know anything about sex until _Edgar Allan_. Until those bruises around his wrists and on his neck, until someone had _hurt_ him and _made_ him know those things. Until someone had smothered the light from those arresting eyes of his, had made Moreau and Patel so protective of a little, pretty birdy (trapped in a cage and unable to fly away).

Andrew’s hand clenched around the phone as the words caught in his throat, a jumble of ‘who’ and ‘their fucking names, dammit’ and ‘where are they?’. But he knew all Neil would say was ‘no’ and ‘not your turn’ and ‘never’, not when he was locked in that gilded cage with those people, not when they answered to the people who owned him or might even _be_ the ones who owned him.

Instead, he waited until it sounded as if Neil had calmed down a little, until the rage inside of him had mellowed the slightest of amounts, lulled as always by the pull of the _fucking_ drugs, before he spoke. “Should I tell you about twinks?”

“What? I.. twinks?” Neil asked with evident confusion. “You mean those snack-“

“Go to hell, gargouille laide,” Moreau shouted at him while Neil laughed in protest. “Stop… stop corrupting him!”

“What are you, his nanny?” Andrew asked. “He’s an adult… well, legally, at least.”

“Okay, fine, you two yell at each other while I go get something to drink,” Neil called out, his voice fading a little as if he was moving away from the phone. “Just don’t kill each other this Friday.”

“It won’t be me who dies,” Andrew yelled so his little birdy could hear him.

There was a rush of French too furious and muddled to be understood, and then the line went dead. Andrew lay there with his cigarette quickly turning to ash and the phone held in his left hand, and wondered how long it would take him to get to Charleston, West Virginia.  Lay there and thought of what he would do once he reached Castle Evermore and made his way below to the Nest.

Unfortunately, that wouldn’t put an end to the cancer, would it? Not when there was a new Moriyama lord out there, when Kevin quaked in fear and hyperventilated at the mere mention of that name. But a boy with knives could dream, couldn’t he?

When it was time to call out an end to stupid stickball antics for the day, Andrew gave Kevin and Nicky a ride back to the dorm, and while eating some lo mein noodles in one of the bean bag chairs, regarded Kevin enough that the coward paused a Ravens game from earlier in the season to give him a puzzled look. Andrew didn’t say anything… because what was there to say, really? ‘Were you _really_ too busy with your stupid game to notice if Riko had any of his flunkies rape people in the Nest?’ Or worse – ‘were you too busy with your stupid game to _care_ if Riko had any of his flunkies rape people in the Nest?’.

The past was the past and couldn’t be changed, and Kevin Day _was_ the type to be too obsessed with his shiny, precious stickball to notice something as ‘unimportant’ as Riko destroying another person like that. Still, Andrew had to look away without answering Kevin’s silent question before he got up and smashed the junkie’s head into his damn laptop.

On Sunday, Renee and Reynolds showed up to practice, with Renee uncharacteristically quiet and cheerless, and Reynolds red-eyed and brittle. Boyd slammed his locker shut after he pulled out his gear, his own expression rather grim. "Seth got wasted last night and I think he's back to using again. I'm pretty sure he kept calling Allison since he was babbling about her until he passed out."

"She's better off without him," Yee said as he put on his pads. "First he cheated on her and now all of this? He's an asshole."

Andrew didn't give a shit about Gordon (or Reynolds), not when the useless striker didn't have any impact on the team anymore thanks to his red card (other than to help ensure that they’d lose on Friday). Gordon was finished for the season and done with the Foxes since he was set to graduate, and Andrew didn't care if the asshole failed to show up for the game on Friday.

Though he _did_ wonder if Neil (or whoever Neil had handling things for him) had anything to do with Gordon's latest fall from grace. At least his little bird had kept his word and waited until the Foxes hadn't anymore need for the loser to ensure that Gordon really was unable to play.

Andrew lay on the benches letting his attention drift for about an hour or two... and then sighed when a shadow loomed over him, surprised to find Aaron standing beside him - last he'd noticed, his brother had been in the suite sleeping. "Really?" he asked, upon seeing Aaron in uniform, of all things, since he knew how much his brother loathed the Foxes. "Lose a bet with Nicky?"

"I don't care about this team, but I care even less for those Raven assholes," Aaron said. "I'm tired of people looking down on us and treating us like shit, so why not?" He hitched his helmet a little higher beneath his right arm as he gave Andrew a challenging grin. "Besides, maybe I can smack a certain striker around a little this way, yeah? Let's see how _you_ like it when I take down _your_ little friend."

Someone was trying to be clever, weren't they? Andrew slowly sat up as he gave his brother a wide grin despite the anger thrumming through his veins. "See, the problem with that theory is thinking that you can take down someone so much better than you in the first place. Go ahead and try, it'll be fun watching you get knocked on your ass like always." Aaron thought that he could handle Neil when even _Boyd_ had trouble? When Neil not only survived but thrived at the Nest? It was laughable... but Andrew wasn't amused, oh no.

Some of Aaron's confidence faded at Andrew's seeming lack of concern. "You... I can manage a scrawny bastard like him."

That drew a loud scoff from Andrew. "Right, which is why you're always looking for other people to bail you out. You couldn't 'manage' a newborn kitten."

For a moment it looked as if Aaron was going to throw his helmet at Andrew, would do something he'd regret, but he relaxed his fists and let out a slow breath. "I give it a few more weeks before Josten figures out how much of a controlling bastard you are and can't be bothered to deal with you anymore," he said through clenched teeth before he stalked onto the court.

Andrew sat there as the door slammed shut behind his brother with the smile still on his face, and wondered why he couldn't have been an only child. Why Aaron had such a difficult time accepting the conditions of their deal, conditions which he'd agreed to, and why Andrew had to suffer so many idiots.

He sighed as he got up and went to put on his uniform, since it looked as if Renee was too busy playing stickball to practice with him any time soon. Nicky fumbled a shot and Boyd gaped in surprise when Andrew stepped out on court a few minutes later, while Kevin grunted 'about damn time'. Oh, someone was going to have a few balls fired at their head soon, yes indeed.

While the others were busy with their drills, Kevin took to aiming shots on the goal, alternating with his right and left hand, while Andrew (somewhat) blocked them. Andrew had to work to block the right-handed shots, while Kevin was still regaining accuracy with his left... but he _was_ regaining it. He almost made a goal before he stopped with a grimace on his face to shake out his left hand as if it pained him.

Andrew left the goal to stalk out and grab the moron's mask to give _it_ a shake. "Don't. What do you always say about pushing things too far?"

Kevin glared at him for that before he let out a slow breath. "I know. _I know_. But it's... it's coming back."

Considering the steady progress which Andrew had just witnessed, he had to agree. "Then don't ruin it." It wouldn't take another year for Kevin to be back to his Ravens' glory... no, he'd be there by next fall _, if_ he didn't push too hard.

"I know," Kevin repeated. "Part of me wants to rub it in Riko's face that he didn't break me, not the way he thinks... but I'm not ready," he admitted. "Not yet."

So nice that the coward realized _something_ , but of course it was in regards to his own self. Andrew gave him a flat look for a moment longer before he returned to the goal, and Kevin focused on his right hand after that.

Soon afterwards, it turned into more of a proper scrimmage, with Boyd, Aaron and Nicky attempting to block Wilds, Reynolds, Kevin and Yee from getting the ball into Andrew's goal, at least for a short while, until Andrew had enough with all of the bullshit (and exerting himself, such as it was) and let Renee take over the goal.

He took to staring at the various pictures of Neil, of those where he was smiling (when he was with Moreau and Patel) and those when he wasn't (surrounded by other people). He also found it interesting that the Ravens were down two more players, one of them Lev Federov - the backliner whom Neil seemed to avoid, whom Kevin said Moreau and Muldani didn't like. After a little digging on the Ravens' website, all Andrew could find was that the backliner appeared to be out for the rest of the season with an injury, along with a sophomore, Cal Dixon.

Hmm, an awful lot of boo-boos for those poor little birdies, no?

The boring (and useless, when one thought about it) practice wrapped up in the late afternoon, and Renee offered Andrew a quick session of their own before dinner. After everyone returned to Fox Tower, they headed down to the basement and added a few new bruises to their collection, Renee unleashing the darkness she'd barely held in check all day and Andrew the fury simmering inside of him since his call with Neil.

"Seth's blaming Allison for everything," Renee explained as they sipped their water once they were done 'venting' on each other. "She knows better, knows that it's not her fault, but it still bothers her none the less. Part of her feels guilty that she couldn't save him after trying for so long."

Andrew made a rude noise before he sipped his water. "Some people can't be saved." And it wasn't anyone's _but_ Gordon's fault - Wymack, Abby and Bee had tried along with Reynolds, and all he'd done was drag others down with him whenever he could. Yet the pack of soft-hearted meddlers just had to keep trying, didn’t they? “You still haven’t learned that.”

Renee gave him a sad look before she shook her head, strands of rainbow-dipped hair sliding free from the loose bun she’d pulled it back in before they’d started their ‘fight’. “Perhaps I don’t _want_ to learn that.”

Andrew clicked his tongue at that bit of foolishness but didn’t think it was worth the energy to argue about it.

“So what’s happening with you?” Renee asked after several seconds of quiet. “How is Neil?”

For a moment Andrew almost told her to shut up, almost grabbed his phone and pack of cigarettes and left… but she was favoring her left side and had a bruised cheek because of him, so he forced down the awful emotions roiling inside of him. “I believe there’s little doubt that our suspicions are wrong about what’s happening at Edgar Allan.”

It took Renee a moment or two to figure out what he meant by that, to remember their discussion after the Fall banquet… but when she did, her thin body stiffened and the darkness returned to her eyes. “Oh.” She set the almost empty bottle of water aside and went still. “What are you going to do? Do you need help?”

And sometimes meddlers had their uses, Andrew thought as he slid a knife free about an inch from its spot in his left armband before he slipped it back into its sheath. “Maybe. I’ll see how things go when he’s here on Friday.” On how difficult it was to free a little birdy while he was out of the cage that was the Nest.

"All right." She nodded as if to show that she understood and they were quiet the last few minutes as they cooled down then returned to the third floor; it had been a long day, and they still had a week of Wymack and Kevin and Wilds pushing them to be ready for the Ravens game.

With that in mind, Andrew told Kevin 'no' about a late night practice, certain that the week ahead would be filled with enough of them, and spent a few hours on homework before going to bed. Morning came much too early, with the Foxes at the gym and then off to classes, the campus awash with orange and white as it prepared for all of the media attention of Friday's game. Andrew gave a flat look to a certain Vixen as she handed out temporary tattoos with the rest of the pep squad, and felt a small amount of satisfaction when she flinched in return.

Gordon didn't show up for practice that afternoon, just like he didn't show up for the morning workout session, and Wymack could be heard yelling in his office as he supposedly called up the loser and left messages on the upperclassman's phone. Gordon was still part of the team despite the red card and could be cited for failing to comply with the terms of his scholarship... but Wymack wouldn't risk his degree like that when he was so close to graduating.

 _Wymack_ might not, but Gordon was stupid enough to do it, and Neil probably didn't care, not after what Gordon had done to him, not after everything he suffered at the Nest.

The Foxes showed up for the late night practice on Monday, as if a few extra sessions would do them any good at that point in the season, and again on Tuesday. Andrew split time in the goal with Rene as Kevin yelled out 'helpful' suggestions ('can you _see_ the damn goal? Because you certainly can't hit it worth shit!') to the rest of the Foxes, having to remind them every now and then that no, they couldn't punch the arrogant bastard ('that means _you_ , Boyd').

He was back on the bench while Renee defended the goal/worked her peace/love/'we need Kevin alive for the game' shit, phone in hand as he checked for any updates on the Ravens, one in particular. Riko had given an interview earlier and oh, what a surprise, had gone off on the Foxes _yet_ again, Kevin in particular, until Tetsuji had shut him down. More of the 'Foxes suck, they're going to fail and fail spectacularly' and 'Kevin is a has-been', the same old, same old. Someone needed to teach that dirty bird a few new lines, as it was boring, oh so _boring_ , listening to him spew those ones over and over again.

There had been a film crew at the Ravens' practice, though, the same one who'd interviewed Riko and Tetsuji, and so there was also some footage of the team out on court. Considering his growing popularity, there were some shots of Neil running around, the '4' a bright red beacon on his black jersey while he was busy dodging other Ravens as he passed the ball to Patel or slipped past Moreau, obviously confident that his partner would block anyone after him. The camera lingered on him when he laughed and exchanged words with Patel, or went to lean against a much taller Moreau before being gently shoved away.

The small sound byte they got from Neil was about how he was looking forward to the game, to playing against skilled players like Kevin, Andrew and Boyd but was certain that the Ravens would win since they were the better team and had amazing players of their own. It was in stark contrast to Riko's rantings, was a little cocky but not (too) insulting, was Neil taking pride in his team while acknowledging the Foxes' own strengths.

The comments from the fans reflected that, too. There were more going on about how Riko needed to get over himself, to move on (and his fervent defenders fighting back, of course, until a mini-war broke out and the thread was shut down), and ones about how grateful the fans were that Neil had been recruited since the Ravens seemed a lot more accessible that season.

There were also a lot of comments about the Ravens beating the Foxes on Friday, some of the fans welcoming Kevin's upcoming defeat and others bemoaning how Kevin and Riko would be on the same court again, only for them to be on opposite sides.

Andrew paid close attention to the footage of Neil, on the way he moved, the people he avoided, the way he still only welcomed physical contact from a select few.

His thoughts were focused on Neil to such an extent that he wasn't in the mood for Aaron and his wretched sense of humor when it came time for his weekly appointment with Bee. "Not today," he informed his brother without any hesitation. "Run off to practice, you'll certainly need it if you don't want to end up on your ass as much as Nicky will come Friday night."

Aaron glared at him and seemed to settle even more into the one chair. "Why don't we talk about how messed up it is that Andrew's only friend, other than some guy who hangs out with him more for a bodyguard than a buddy, is some kid a few hundred miles away he only talks to like once a week? Some kid he talks about kicking his ass all the time?”

Andrew went to loom over his brother with a grin on his face and his hands braced on the arms of the chair, which made Aaron sink back in it even more. "I would be quiet if I were you. Little boys who need others to save them, who cry about their abusive mommies to any whore who'll put up with them need to shut up and go away."

"Andrew," Bee warned as she came to stand in front of her desk, closer to the two of them but not too close. "That might-"

"No, _you_ shut up," Aaron muttered as he continued to glare at Andrew, even if the expression had lost some of its potency. "Don't you _dare_ bring up Tilda, not after-"

"After what?" Andrew taunted even as his fingers dug into the soft material of the dark orange chair. "Hmm? After _what_?"

Aaron grew flushed and balled his hands into fists as he held on to Andrew’s gaze. "You _know_ what you did, dammit. You were all but smug about it after the acci- after the wreck!"

"It wasn't an _accident_ ," Andrew sang out, a little bit amused that Aaron was _finally_ addressing the topic after the last few years. When Aaron glanced at Bee, his expression now panicked, Andrew laughed. "Oh, patient/doctor confidentiality is _such_ a wonderful thing, don't worry about good old Bee," he assured his brother. "Still want to talk to me, hmm?"

" _You're_ the monster," Aaron threw at him as if those words could ever hurt. "What will your _friend_ think if he ever got a glimpse of the real you, huh?"

Andrew leaned in a little closer until his face was only a couple of inches from Aaron's, and smiled even wider at the latest flinch from his brother. "Neil? Oh _Neil’s_ a clever little bird, and so very interesting. He didn’t care at all when I told him a story about two brothers and the failure of a mother who liked to beat one of them, and how she didn’t come back from a car ride one day.”

“ _Andrew_ ,” Bee called out, her voice hoarse for some reason and expression pained while Aaron took to panting, his eyes wide and face pale.

“What?” Andrew asked as he stood up, his own eyes wide and expression innocent. “We tell each other the truth, we do, unlike _other_ people I can name.” His smile slipped as he clicked his tongue and shook his head while gazing at his brother once again. “ _People_ who lie and sneak around behind my back, who forget the deals we made together.”

“You killed our mother!” Aaron all but shrieked as he stared up at Andrew as if he’d never seen him before (impossible, considering that they shared the same visage). “How was that part of-“

“I _told_ her not to touch you again,” Andrew said, all traces of smiles and innocence gone as he once more leaned down to stare back at his brother. “I gave her plenty of warnings! I agreed to protect you and I told her to keep her damn hands to herself, and did _she_ listen? Did _you_?”

“I… but I… dammit, how could I think you’d do that for me?” Aaron asked in a broken tone of voice as he slumped down in the chair. “That you’d go so far for me, that you’d keep doing all of this?” He didn’t look away from Andrew even as his breath hitched and he wiped at his watery eyes.

“Your lack of belief isn’t my problem,” Andrew told him without mercy, tired of the constant stream of excuses. “I’ve held up my side of the bargain, now it’s your turn.”

“But… dammit, you don’t need to chase Katelyn away,” Aaron argued as the glare from before returned. “Not every girl is trying to use me! She’s smart and she’s working on her own career! She’s not into drugs or partying or any of that, too!”

“I don’t care,” Andrew stated as he stood up again; it always came back to Aaron’s crutches in the end, didn’t it? To what _he_ wanted. “She-“

“What about this ‘Neil’ guy, huh?” For a moment Aaron appeared disgusted and then he shook his head. “Nicky’s right, isn’t he? Something’s going on between the two of you, he’s not just a _friend_ , is he?”

“He’s not your concern,” Andrew said, his tone flat and a slight scowl on his face as he folded his arms across his chest. “Because there’s nothing between-“

“Bullshit!” Aaron surged out of the chair fast enough that Andrew was startled back a step. “You don’t tell ‘friends’ about Tilda, do you? So he means _something_ , so then-“

Before Andrew could do anything about Aaron’s latest bit of foolishness, Bee was right there to pull Aaron to safety. “All right, there was a lot said and dealt with today, so I think it’s best we don’t push any further.”

“But-“

She shook her head and swooped down to grab Aaron’s backpack before giving him a stern push toward the door. “No, you don’t overload on these things, it’s not good! So we’ll end it there between the two of you when there’s been some progress made! I’m so proud of you both!”

“I want to-“

“I’m here if you want to talk to me about any of this, _alone_! Schedule an appointment right now!” Bee shouted to the stubborn fool before slamming the door behind Aaron; it sounded as if he kicked it in anger before finally getting the hint and leaving. She slumped against it for a moment, her face drawn with exhaustion, before she let out a slow breath. “Oh boy.”

“Hot chocolate?” Andrew asked as he went to sit in the other chair.

“I suppose it’ll have to do,” she said, her tone a bit surly as she made her way back to low bookshelf where she kept the supplies for their drinks.

“Bee!” Andrew gasped as he clutched his hands to his chest. “I don’t know whether to be proud right now or shattered at this show of humanity.”

“Be jealous that I’ll be enjoying a nice bottle of scotch right around the time that David is running you little terrors ragged out on the court,” she told him with a wry smile. “I might ask him to add on a few laps just for me.”

“That’s not nice,” Andrew sang out. “Isn’t there some board I can report you to for that?”

“Exercise is good for you,” she shot back; there was a reason why this woman had outlasted all of his other psychiatrists, and it was because she didn’t try to be perfect or hide that she sometimes got frustrated, yet Andrew knew she wouldn’t go through with the ‘threat’.

“And meddling isn’t good for you,” Andrew pointed out. “What did all of that gain us?”

Bee was quiet as she fixed their hot chocolate then came over to hand him his with a slight smile. “You’ve admitted to me how much it frustrates you, Aaron not facing up to Tilda’s death. Well, now he did and the two of you can move on from that at last. It’s a huge milestone, Andrew.”

He snorted at that bit of fantasy. “Yes, everything will be wonderful from here on out, oh happy days at last.”

“Don’t twist my words, I said it was a milestone, not a cure all,” Bee chided. “There’s still a lot of work to be done, but you took an important first step, the both of you.” She gave him a grave nod before she sat down. “Tell me that you don’t want that, an improved relationship with Aaron.”

…dammit, he couldn’t, even after all the times he told himself it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t break his promise to Aaron or any of the other ones he’d made just so Aaron could be happy, but he’d given up a lot for his brother, too much in a way for it to all be for nothing. If this worked out… well, he couldn’t complain. “He has to be bothered to make it work, too, to stop being so stupid.”

“That goes without saying,” Bee agreed. “But if you both try, I think we’ll see more progress in the future.” Then she winced. “Let’s just hope there’s no more incriminating statements like today, though,” she added with a weak chuckle as she smiled at Andrew.

When he remained quiet and blew on his hot chocolate, she groaned and set her drink aside. “Andrew? Is there something you feel like you should tell me?”

He debated that question for a few seconds before he nodded. “I believe I may make a deal with Neil on Friday to keep him from going back to Edgar Allan. Since he’s Moriyama property, things might get messy.”

Bee knew a lot about the Moriyamas, considering that she’d had a few private sessions with Kevin back when he’d first shown up almost a year and a half ago, though he normally only saw her once a semester now. She would know what ‘Moriyama property’ meant, along with the dangers of things getting ‘messy’.

“I see.” She seemed to think about that a little. “Is there any particular reason why you’re doing this now? That’s going to attract a lot of attention, him switching or leaving teams right at the end of a season, especially before a play-off game.”

He gave her a cold look for several seconds. “It’s not safe for him to be there any longer.” He wouldn’t go into the suspected abuse, not when it was Neil’s secret to tell, but he could say that much.

Bee gazed at him for a moment longer before nodding. “All right, I know that he means a lot to you and you wouldn’t do this without your reasons. If you need anything from me, let me know.”

Why did everyone keep on insisting that Neil ‘meant’ a lot to him? Andrew gave Bee a flat look for that comment before they spent the rest of the session going over the drama with Aaron and the upcoming game.

He had Renee send a message to Patel on Thursday about him wanting to meet up with a little birdy after the game, and while there were a few insults sent his way, she at least let him know through Renee that Neil would see him. Andrew didn’t let anyone else know about his plan, unwilling to chance it leaking somehow or any complaints (or Kevin freaking out), and spent the remaining time until Friday afternoon watching old Ravens’ games and dodging people wanting to interview him about the game and putting up with extra practices and too much other stupid Exy shit.

Despite the fact that no one expected the Foxes to win that evening, the campus was in a frenzy on Friday; the game would be a national broadcast and a lot of people were rooting for the ‘underdog’ team after the Foxes had managed such an impressive and unbelievable season. The stadium was sold out, with overflow seating in the basketball gymnasium for some of the students who weren’t able to get tickets to the Foxhole Court, and the Foxes themselves were determined to not go down without one hell of a fight.

Kevin was probably the most confident that Andrew had ever seen him when about to deal with anything related to the Moriyamas or the Ravens… but he’d done what he’d set out to do, had dragged the Foxes to the semi-finals and had four promising recruits signed to the team – not one, but _four_. They could have signed more players, but Wymack had argued against bringing in too many freshmen at once, considering the rookies were also _Foxes_ – it would be best to recruit another small batch the following year or two when they lost Wilds, Reynolds and Renee than deal with a bunch of conflicting personalities at once.

Kevin had proven Riko wrong, had gone on to find a new team and build them up, and next year he’d be back on the court just as strong as he’d ever been. Andrew didn’t see the Foxes winning any championships in the near future… but he didn’t see them washing out at the bottom of the district, either. He had a feeling that he’d have to get used to putting up with playing Exy through spring, dammit.

Throughout the day, he checked his phone for updates on Neil and found photos posted by Patel, Curtis and other Ravens once they got on the road to head to Palmetto State. There were the usual pictures of him with the two girls, a couple of him with the one goalkeeper, Ivanova (seriously, how many languages did the idiot need to learn?), and of course several of him with Moreau. The fans were delighted to see Neil wearing Moreau’s ‘3’ jacket (there was a picture of Patel wearing Neil’s, with her showing off how short the sleeves and the hem were on her much taller figure while Neil glowered off to the side), and Neil grimacing as he appeared to try some sort of green smoothie while Moreau actually grinned and several Ravens laughed around them (the caption mentioned something about a lost bet). Although Moreau didn’t appear happy for some reason when they were at a rest stop that also had a gift store and Neil was looking at a rack of stuffed animals.

The picture that caught Andrew’s attention the most was of Neil asleep on the bus, tucked into the corner with Moreau’s jacket draped over him and Frenchie sitting at the other end of the seat with a determined expression on his face, his knees up and braced against the back of the seat in front of him as if to prevent anyone from getting near Neil, from being able to reach over to touch him.

Andrew felt a thrum of bitter anger inside of him at that – at Neil needing someone to watch over him so he could rest, of that person being Moreau. He told himself that it was just old memories surfacing, that he didn’t want to think of anyone suffering the same shit that he’d gone through and so the few emotions he had left were twisted up between that fact and the meds. Once Neil was safe and Andrew was off the damn things in a few more weeks then everything would go back to normal.

It took forever to reach the Foxhole Court because of traffic, and Andrew told himself that he was imagining the fluttering in his chest when he saw the sleek black buses with the red raven logos on their sides already parked in the lot on the far side. He just needed a cigarette, dammit, and lit one up as soon as he stepped out of the GS despite Kevin’s bitching about his health and needing to be in top shape for the game.

Wymack ordered some take-out for them when everyone arrived, so Andrew had some cheese lasagna and garlic bread while the medication slowly wore off, content to eat in peace while Kevin and Wilds went over the Ravens’ stats _yet again_. And oh, what a surprise, no Gordon. He supposed that Wymack and Abby were going to declare the striker ill or something for the officials, since the asshole was supposed to suit up and sit on the bench even if he couldn’t play.

Soon enough it was time to gear up and go out onto court, and the stadium roared when they stepped outside. There was a lot of black and red out in the seats, but the majority of fans were there for the Foxes and they appeared determined to show their support. Nicky, Renee, Boyd, Wilds and Yee waved as they ran their laps and did their stretches, and there was even more noise when the Ravens came out to warm up as well.

Andrew noticed Neil right away, the small figure behind Moreau and red hair bright under the lights. He didn’t look toward the Foxes at all during the laps around the inner court or when Tetsuji had the offensive line work on a set of drills, his attention focused on his fellow Ravens and the goal in front of him.

He looked much the same as the last time Andrew had seen him – a little too thin, a little too worn down. One wondered what could be affecting him that he wasn’t physically doing better at Edgar Allan, at a place where his health should be a top priority.

One wondered.

Wilds and Riko went out to the center of the court for the coin toss, which Wilds won, and then the captains returned to their teams for the final pep-talk. Andrew braced himself for another wretched speech from Wymack, who didn’t disappoint.

There was talk about them playing the game for themselves, how no one could take their achievements from them, could erase how far they’d come or the fact that they’d just continue to move forward – and he didn’t stop there, oh no. Andrew wished he could blame the sense of nausea on withdrawal from his meds, but he still had another hour before it really started kicking in and did his best to blank out the man’s voice for the next couple of minutes.

It had been decided that he’d man the goal for the entire game, much like the last time they’d played against the Ravens, so Renee could assist the defense as a backliner. Kevin and Yee would need all the help they could get to hold down the score while they battered the Ravens’ defense on their own, since they hadn’t fared well against it the last time.

Andrew had to do his best to block all goals in the first half, before he grew sloppy because of the withdrawal – especially since Neil knew about him playing without medication and would use it against him. There was a tiny spark of interest in him as the Foxes prepared to go out onto court, all of them except Renee, Nicky and Allison, at the thought of facing off against Neil again, at putting Riko in his place.

Riko didn’t bother calling out to Kevin that time or going over to him, he just openly glared at his former partner while Neil stood there with a blank expression on his face. Yet Andrew caught the slight nod in his direction once he was in the goal, and soon afterward the buzzer signaled the start of the game.

The crowd roared as the players surged into motion, Wilds flinging the ball toward the Ravens’ goal as Kevin and Yee raced ahead. However, just as expected, Moreau and Bautista refused to let either of them past their defenses, and Bautista was just shy of too rough with Yee – if it had been Gordon on the court, a fight probably would have broken out, but Boyd had been working with the kid on his temper the past few months.

Moreau managed to get the ball from Kevin and flung it away, toward Neil, who passed it back and forth between himself and McPherson as they crossed the court while just out of Kevin and Yee’s reach until they hit the Foxes’ defensive line. A cocky grin spread across Neil’s face as he didn’t hesitate to take on Boyd right as he twisted about to pass the ball back to McPherson, going in low to make Boyd bend over to block him and so be placed in a bad position to see what was happening around them. Aaron had to move to intercept the offensive dealer, who grinned as she held him off just long enough for Riko to be in place to catch the ball from her and make a shot on the goal.

Andrew blocked that one, but Neil had slipped past Boyd and caught it on the rebound to fire it back – and Andrew only realized as he blocked it again that Neil was setting up Riko for another try. A try that went in, since Riko had aimed for a far open spot, damn him. As the goal lit up red and the Ravens fans stomped their feet as they cheered, Riko flashed him a smug grin and Neil shrugged before they ran off.

“Ah hell, he’s even more of a slippery little fuck than before,” Boyd complained as he returned to his position in front of Andrew’s goal.

“He’s _half_ your size, dammit, sit on him or something!” Aaron snapped while he twirled his racquet between his hands.

“I have to catch him first! You try it, next time.”

Andrew ignored their bickering since Kevin was attempting to score again on the other side of the court, only that time, Riko was getting in his way… and Riko wasn’t being half as nice as Moreau. It was evident for everyone to see that there wasn’t any love lost between the two partners anymore, at least on Riko’s side, and Andrew was waiting for a ref to put a stop to things and hand out a yellow card at any moment. Before that could happen, though, Moreau managed to (legally) check Kevin and knock the ball free, which Neil swooped in to pick up and the action was headed back to the Foxes’ goal.

Though not before it looked as if Riko ‘accidentally’ bumped his shoulder into Moreau hard enough to make the backliner stumble a few steps.

Boyd and Aaron were prepared for Neil that time – or so they thought. Neil threw the ball against the wall once his ten steps were done and ran straight at Aaron, who went to intercept it, using momentum and some sort of trick with his racquet to not only get the ball but to send Aaron stumbling into Boyd – legal since technically, Neil didn’t shove or trip him. While Aaron took to cursing up the storm and Andrew’s attention was distracted for a split second with making sure his brother was all right – the fucking goal lit up.

Neil’s pleased grin was met with a flat look. “I hate you,” Andrew stated before his little birdy could run off.

“You’re about to hate me a lot more,” Neil said as he gave a slight wave while he turned away.

Andrew managed to keep the goals down to four for the first half, though he was exhausted and covered from sweat by the endeavor. It was worth it, though, to see Riko’s temper continue to fray as the game went on, to witness him actually earn a yellow card near the end of the second half and be replaced by Engle for knocking Kevin down (and oh, was the prick going to pay for that, _somehow_ , (somehow and some day).

Kevin and Yee had only scored two points, but Ivanova was being swapped out for Anders in the goal, and Bautista and Loiseau should be alternated with lower-ranked backliners as well, while Moreau was slowing down a little. Andrew lay down on a bench in the locker room to catch his breath and fight off the worsening sense of withdrawal as Abby fussed over everyone, well aware that Patel would be out on the court soon.

It was Saunders out there with Neil for the start of the third quarter, which wasn’t good as the junior striker was quick on his feet and had enough mass to cause Boyd trouble. The two of them managed some of the fancy teamwork the Ravens were famous for and Saunders scored a goal, which enabled Andrew to fire the ball deep into the Ravens’ side of court for what turned out to be the third Foxes’ goal of the game. Lincoln appeared to take offense over that and tried to pick a fight with Yee, which led to him being switched out with Reacher and Patel sent in to replace Saunders.

Andrew took as deep a breath as his increasingly queasy stomach would allow in preparation of the two rookie strikers soon targeting his goal, and they didn’t disappoint. Archer was quick to steal the ball from Reynolds, who cursed the other dealer as she gave chase, and soon it was in Neil’s possession. Yee tried to snatch it back, but Neil and Patel played an almost cruel game of keep-away from the Fox striker, always at least a few steps out of reach as they tossed it back and forth while the crowd screamed and cheered. When they neared Nicky and Boyd, Andrew could see the grin on Patel’s face as she called out something in French while she actually _barreled_ into his cousin, who squawked in panic at such an overt move, whereas Neil ducked to the left with blinding speed and so just avoided Boyd to catch the ball as it left Patel’s racquet in a low pass.

Not about to be fooled again, Andrew focused on _Neil,_ his eyes narrowed and hands clenched around his own racquet in preparation to block the shot, only to watch Neil spin around on the toe of his right foot and fire it in the opposite direction – to Patel who had managed to free herself from Nicky and line herself up for the shot. Boyd tried to take her down, but Neil got in the way first, and Andrew _just_ missed the ball.

“Aw man, I thought you said he was gonna be a challenge tonight,” Patel complained as she helped Neil back onto his feet.

“I said _he_ said he was going to be a challenge,” Neil explained with a wry grin as he glanced back at Andrew, and laughed at whatever he saw. “I know, I know, you hate me.”

“Go away,” Andrew told them as he propped himself up with the aid of his racquet.

As Neil had threatened, the Ravens did indeed beat the Foxes – Yee and Kevin struggled in the fourth quarter with having to play an entire game themselves, and weren’t helped with Riko and Curtis out on the court. On Yee’s part, he had difficulties with being physical in regards to his girlfriend (Curtis had no such issues, it was interesting to note, but she also never used more than the appropriate amount of force on Yee or any of the other Foxes), while Riko was once more out for blood when it came to Kevin.

Yet the Foxes were also a much more unified team than they’d been back in October, especially without Gordon to drag them down. By the end of the game, the Foxes had scored seven points to the Ravens’ twelve, nearly doubling their goals from the last game while cutting down the point spread at the same time. In fact, it was one of the better games against the Ravens in the entire season, by the team that Riko had insulted the most.

Despite their loss, the Foxes’ fans cheered as the entire team assembled on the court to do the stupid ‘good game’ thing with the Ravens – except Riko stormed off without shaking anyone’s hand. The Ravens stood still en masse as if shock before Moreau moved forward with Neil at his side, Patel and Curtis quickly falling in step and others following behind them to form a line for the Foxes to meet.

“You’re still a fool,” Moreau said to Kevin as he held out his hand. “But you played well tonight.”

Kevin blinked at that remark, obviously caught off-guard by the praise, and smiled in gratitude. “You’re still one of the best backliners out there, Jean. Thanks for a great game.”

Moreau didn’t seem to be touched by the praise in return, and said something quick in French – Andrew caught the name ‘Thea’ but wasn’t paying that much attention with Neil so close by – which made Kevin frown and shake his head. “I see, a fool indeed,” Moreau remarked as he pointedly looked away from Kevin.

Neil held out his hand with obvious reluctance and didn’t say anything to Kevin, and only nodded once to Kevin’s ‘good game’. Andrew noticed that before Moreau caught his hand and gave it a too-firm shake along with directing a thin smile his way. “Behave,” was all he said.

“Fuck you,” Andrew shot back before he stepped closer to Neil but didn’t grab his birdy’s hand; Neil glanced at him as if to make sure it was all right to do so before he loosely grasped it and gave it a quick shake. “ _Twenty minutes_ ,” Andrew told him in German.

Neil shook his head. “ _Probably forty, considering_ …..” He looked past Moreau to where Riko should be standing.

For a moment Andrew felt a thin pulse of anger push past the almost overbearing sense of nausea and weariness, until he realized that Neil most likely would have to sit in on an interview because of Riko’s bad attitude. “ _Okay_ ,” he said before he moved on to Patel, whom he offered a narrow look and no handshake. When she stuck her tongue out at him, he gave her the finger and stalked off to the locker room, done with Ravens (except one of them) for the night.

He made it into the tunnel leading to the Foxes’ locker rooms before he had to slump against the concrete wall and struggle for a few seconds against vomiting, and after that barely made it to a stall in time to throw up the remains of his dinner. It was a few minutes before he felt able to fetch his pills and take one, and he was in the showers when the rest of the Foxes (minus Wilds and Kevin, who were doing the post-game interviews), returned.

Once all of the Foxes had showered and were assembled in the lounge, Wymack cleared his throat to get their attention. “I know we just lost a big game, but it’s a game no one expected us to have a year ago. It’s a game that practically everyone thought impossible for us to have two years ago, yet tonight you played against the best team in the division and held your own in a semi-final game.” He paused as most of the Foxes except Andrew, Aaron and Kevin cheered. “You should be damn proud of yourselves – I know I am of how far you came, and the fact that this wasn’t a fluke. You’ve proved to me the past couple of years that you could step up and exceed everyone’s expectations of you, and it’s a sign that next year you’ll be back here.”

The Foxes cheered again while Wymack beamed at them with evident pride. “Damn right we’ll be back here – we’re gonna aim higher than fourth place in the district and soon enough it won’t be the ‘Big Three’ but the ‘Big Four’,” Wilds declared.

“We’ll make the Trojans seem like the odd ones out,” Boyd joked while there was more cheering. “You know, the only ones not being animals.”

Aaron muttered about that being a lame joke, but everyone else laughed – well, not Andrew and Kevin.

“It’s going to take a lot of work to be as good as the Trojans and the Lions, let alone the Ravens,” Kevin stated as he looked around the room. “So we have to-“

There was a lot of groaning as soon as he started talking, and Wymack came over to pat him on the shoulder. “This season is now over – finals are starting and then there’s summer break. Everyone, even _you_ , have earned a well-deserved rest, and in June we’ll start fresh with the new kids and hit the ground running, got it?” He held Kevin’s gaze until the Exy junkie gave a reluctant nod.

“So, on that note, party at Abby’s house.” Wymack looked over at Andrew, his expression solemn. “There’s enough food and alcohol for everyone, and we’ll make sure everyone’s safe tonight.”

Andrew’s first response was to say ‘no’… but it might be better to have help around because of Neil so he nodded after a slight pause. Besides, he could always leave the others at Abby’s and go off with Neil to Columbia alone if the situation warranted it.

While everyone got up to head off to Abby’s, Andrew looked over at Aaron and Nicky. “Ride with Abby tonight, Kevin and I have something to do.” He’d send Kevin with them if he could, but it wasn’t worth arguing with the coward.

Aaron went still at that while Nicky shrugged to show that he was fine with the change of plans – probably eager to start drinking. “What? What are you doing?” Aaron’s eyes narrowed when Andrew remained quiet. “Does it have something to do with Josten?”

Nicky perked up at that. “Oh, really? You’re meeting your boyfriend?”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Andrew said through gritted teeth while Aaron grimaced in disgust and Kevin appeared ready to start panicking at that statement. “And it’s none of your business so go now or get shoved into a locker.” When neither of them moved, Andrew took one slow, deliberate step forward.

“Okay!” Nicky cried out in a freaked out voice as he went running to Abby’s office, with Aaron quick to follow him. That left Andrew with Kevin and Wymack, who gave him a frazzled look.

“There isn’t going to be any more fighting, is there?”

Andrew ‘smiled’ at the man. “Oh Coach, where’s your sense of adventure?”

“Where it’s always been,” Wymack told him as he crossed his tattooed arms over his chest. “Right near my dislike of having to clean blood off of these floors.”

“What happened to all of those ‘no guts, no glory’ speeches of yours?” Andrew asked as he leaned against the wall.

“I never said a single thing about spilling those guts all over the place, so play nice for once in your miserable life, you shitty midget,” Wymack shot back before stomping off to his office. “We’re supposed to go to a party, not the hospital!”

“I want to drink,” Kevin said as he gave Andrew a plaintive look. “This isn’t about Riko, is it?”

“Not exactly,” Andrew told him, then fell quiet because Abby came out with Aaron and Nicky in tow, both of them wearing curious expressions (well, Aaron’s was more vindictive), and told them she’d see them soon before giving Kevin a hug and leaving.

It was about another five minutes before the door opened again, that time to admit a few people into the lounge area – Neil and Moreau and some tall, broad-shouldered guy who looked to be in his twenties whom Andrew had never seen before but who could have passed as a bouncer at Eden’s with no problem.

That put him on edge and made him shove away from the wall with his hands hovering near his armbands, but Neil shook his head; he and Moreau were dressed in black track pants, while he wore what looked to be one of Moreau’s sweatshirts as if he was cold. “ _He’s not a threat so leave him alone, okay?  He’s a friend_ ,” Neil told him in German while Moreau hovered near him with a glower on his face which he split between Andrew and Kevin.

“ _He doesn’t look it_ ,” Andrew argued as he eyed the man dressed in dark blue jeans and a black blazer over a black t-shirt – a blazer he was willing to bet hid at least one weapon. He also noticed how the man’s dark brown eyes took in his armbands and narrowed before glancing at Kevin and dismissing him. “ _Get him out of here_.”

“ _No_ ,” Neil told him while shaking his head. “ _He’s here because I’m here_.”

Andrew didn’t like the sound of that. “ _What, does Riko have a guard on you now_?” That would make things difficult. “ _Get him out of here before I_ -“

“Neil? Is he threatening you?” the guy asked with a British accent (coincidence? unlikely, Andrew suspected) as he stepped forward to put himself between Andrew and Neil.

“No!” Neil was quick to slip between the bastard and Andrew with his hands held up, the sleeves of the sweatshirt all but covering his fingers. “He’s worried about why you’re here – Andrew, this is Bren and I swear, he’s here to watch over me and Jean, to keep us safe _from_ Riko, all right?” Neil gave him a pleading look as he lowered his arms. “So leave him alone because he’s not going anywhere without us.”

Kevin made a choked sound upon hearing that while Andrew tried to figure out if Neil was telling him the truth… or the truth as he believed it. “But that… it can’t be true,” Kevin sputtered while he rubbed his left hand. “You can’t… not to Riko!”

A sharp smile came over Neil’s attractive features as he looked over at Kevin. “Why’s that exactly, when you have your own little guard dog?”

“Because he’s not property,” Moreau sneered.

“Right,” Neil drawled while his smile grew even sharper. “Only the revered Kevin Day gets to be nice and safe from the big bad Riko. How foolish of me, I forgot how fucking precious you were. Precious and useless.”

“Go to hell, I spent ten years there,” Kevin yelled back, his face mottled with anger and possibly shame at being called out by Neil yet again. “You have no idea what I-“

“ _Do I_?” Moreau asked as he stood next to Neil and glared at his former teammate. “Go ahead, tell me _I_ don’t know a thing about what happened there, Day.”

Kevin flinched at the accusation in Frenchie’s voice and took a step back. “I… you know why I left, Jean. Why I couldn’t stay there any longer.” Now he sounded apologetic, as if he would get any sympathy from the two birdies casting scorn his way.

“All I know is you ran without a thought for what you left behind,” Moreau told him, his voice thick with derision.

As entertaining as it was to tear open old wounds…. Andrew clapped his hands together to get everyone’s attention. “Yes, yes, we all agree that Evermore is a cesspool and Riko an utter prick, fun times but let’s play another game, shall we?” He ignored the British guy as he gave Neil as level a look as he could manage with a fresh dose of meds singing through his veins. “The important thing is that I’m keeping Kevin safe from Riko, and I’m willing to do the same for you. You don’t have to go back to Edgar Allan.” He frowned while Neil, Jean and Kevin stared at him in stunned silence. “I _suppose_ Valjean can stay since you’ve seem to have adopted him, but we’ll have to get a kennel for him.”

“Oh god, Andrew, _no_ ,” Kevin groaned, sounding even worse than before. “They’re _property_! You can’t!”

“Is he barmy?” Bren asked as he tapped the left side of his head Neil while a wistful expression came over the little bird’s face. “Not all there, eh?”

“He’s completely insane!” Moreau explained. “No, no, no!”

“I can make it work,” Andrew assured a quiet Neil, a new type of hyperness building in him the longer his little bird didn’t say anything. “You don’t-“

“No,” Neil told him, his tone sad as he shook his head. “I… _thank you_ , but no.”

For some reason those words made something seize up in Andrew’s chest; he was used to people coming to him for deals, for them being accepted, but not being turned down. “I know what I’m doing,” he tried to argue. “Don’t try to tell me that you want to go back there, even with this guy.” That earned him a glare from ‘Bren’.

“No, you don’t.” Neil wrapped his arms around his middle as if cold. “You _don’t_ know, but I appreciate it.” His smile became even more wistful as he met Andrew’s eyes. “It’s… there’s nothing you can do, and it’ll only hurt you and everyone here if I don’t go back.”

Andrew was in motion upon hearing those words, had his hands twisted up in the material of that soft black sweatshirt within seconds, which made Neil call out Bren’s name and tell the man to stand back. “ _I can protect you_ ,” he swore in German. “ _Riko won’t touch you. Don’t go back_.”

“ _It’s not Riko_ ,” Neil told him as something so melancholic flashed across his face for a moment. _“I have my own people to protect, Andrew, my own promises to keep. I **have** to go back.” _When Andrew stood there with his hands fisted in the sweatshirt and so close to Neil he could feel the other teen’s body heat, Neil sighed and leaned forward enough that their foreheads almost touched; Andrew could feel the brush of soft hair against his skin. “ _If I could… if I could I’d stay. But it’s too late for that. At least I have Bren now to watch my back_.”

‘Too late’, which implied that perhaps at some point, Neil _could_ have accepted Andrew’s offer. But Andrew had dragged his feet too long, hadn’t he? “ _Are you going to tell me how you came about that protection_?” he asked as he glanced at the gorgeous, wistful face so near his own, at the pale blue eyes filled with remorse.

Neil gave him a wry smile which Andrew knew meant ‘no’.

They stood together for a few more seconds before there was the sound of shuffling feet. “Ah, Neil? The buses are supposed to be leaving soon.”

“Yeah.” Neil closed his eyes as he stepped away from Andrew. “Enjoy your break, you lazy goth,” he said as he headed straight for Moreau, who wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“Next time I’m kicking your ass,” Andrew told him as the pain in his chest increased for some damn reason at the sight of Neil walking away.

“And then I snap your neck,” Bren said before leaving with the two birdies, pausing to give Andrew a significant look before the door closed behind them.

Andrew stared after them for a couple of seconds before he glanced at an oddly silent Kevin. “Party, now,” he told him before heading toward the door.

“Hell yes.” Kevin sounded desperate for a drink and called out to Wymack to let the man know that they were leaving, which was fine with Andrew.

He didn’t plan on being sober for much longer that night.

*******

Saturday's practice had a delayed start since the Ravens would return to Edgar Allan in the middle of the night - without their captain. There had been as close to a heated 'discussion' as Neil had ever witnessed between Riko and Tetsuji before Riko had stormed off to catch his flight to Detroit over his behavior that evening, his growing animosity on court toward the other players and Day in particular. Neil would have delighted in that, if he hadn't been left utterly gobsmacked by Andrew's ill-placed attempt to help him out earlier.

He hadn't... he'd never expected something like that from his friend. He knew that Andrew was helping Day, but he'd never expected Andrew to put his own safety in jeopardy to help out _him_. That was too much to ask for, to _ever_ hope for, and for what? What would Andrew get out of it, especially when Neil served a purpose in the Nest? What good was Neil to Andrew if he couldn't warn him about whatever Riko was about to do to Day or Andrew or the Foxes?

"Stop thinking and get some sleep," Jean chided him for about the fourth time. "Tomorrow will be a long day."

"I know," Neil sighed as he tugged Jean's jacket a little higher up on his chest and closed his eyes, content that he had his friend near him at least. A friend whom Andrew had offered to get out of the Nest as well, even if it hadn't been phrased in the most gracious of manners.

For a moment Neil allowed himself to think about that, of Jean free of the Moriyamas and Evermore, free to do whatever he wanted (to not play Exy, to find his sister)... but Neil had been telling Andrew the truth back then. It _was_ too late, and for both of them. He'd promised Ichirou not to run, to belong to the man, and he knew that Ichirou couldn't allow such a slap to the face go unchallenged if Neil went back on that when the young lord was so new in his position and had been so generous on his end of the deal. Also, he couldn't show any signs of weakness when he was still-

"Ow!" Neil opened his eyes to glare at a certain French bastard, who had just flicked him on the forehead from the feel of it.

" _Stop overworking that poor brain devil of yours and go to sleep_ ," Jean told him with a stern look. " _Before I smother you_."

" _I'd like to see you try_ ," Neil muttered, but he closed his eyes again while Jean snorted and that time pushed all thoughts about Andrew and Ichirou out of his head, and managed to get a little sleep.

Either because it was the final game ahead of them or Riko's deteriorating sanity, Tetsuji was in a rare mood on Saturday and worked the team even harder than usual, and swung his cane at the first sign of failure. Neil forced all thoughts not-Exy related from his mind and focused on drills and plays and scoring goals, on achieving as close to perfection as possible, and was wrung out physically as well as mentally when the time came for a break. Everyone was quiet as they ate, even the girls, and they didn't have long to rest up before they were in the gym to work out and finish the day with another session out on the court.

There was a sense of anxiety in Neil's chest, an odd ache which made him pause for a moment before he retrieved the burner phone so he could call Andrew before dinner - the time had been pushed back both because of the Ravens traveling the night before and because Andrew had asked for another hour or two for some reason. As soon as the other teen spoke in greeting, Neil picked up on a heavy sense of exhaustion. "Tired?" he asked.

Andrew was quiet for a moment. "There was a party at Abby's last night for the whole team. Kevin's still sleeping off his hangover, and Nicky's whining about how he won't be able to eat for days."

"Ah." Neil wondered if that meant that Andrew was hungover as well. "Your team celebrated losing? That's unique."

"We celebrated not having to put up with you obsessed assholes for a few months," Andrew drawled; was it Neil's imagination, or did he sound a bit... off? Not as hyper as usual? Which might be the hangover, he supposed. "That and being able to sleep in, at least for a little while."

"I guess." Neil chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, uncertain where things stood between them after last night. "Uhm, what are your plans for the summer? I mean, it's straight into practice for us here, but what about you?"

Andrew was quiet, too, but that seemed to be because he was smoking. "I might as well let you know now that this will be our last call for a while." Neil's breath caught in his throat at that, as his chest seized up and he felt a strange sense of panic at the thought that Andrew didn't want to talk to him anymore. "As soon as the semester is over, I'm not going to be able to talk to anyone for a few weeks."

"Ah, why?" Neil was able to force out, his voice weak enough that Jean looked at him with concern.

"Because I've put in my mandatory time on the meds," Andrew explained, a bit of emotion creeping into his voice at last - loathing. "I had to wait until I was through the semester because it's going to take at least a month to come off of them, maybe longer. Bee and I are still arguing over it - she's going to help me. I'll be clean before it's time to start training, I know that much."

"Oh." Neil almost panted from the sudden rush of relief, in knowing that his friend still wanted to talk to him and it was something else ending the calls for a short while. "That's... that's good, right? Finally getting off of it?" Andrew clearly hated the meds.

"Well, it's going to suck, the next few weeks, but yeah, over all."

"At least you don't have to put up with any Exy," Neil reminded the lazy bastard.

"What joy." Andrew was quiet again as he inhaled on his cigarette. "Neil?" he asked, his tone once more serious. "It's going to be time for some answers the next we talk."

Neil thought about that as he toyed with the hem of his (Jean's) sweatshirt. "As much as I'm able. You know I-“

“Shh,” Andrew said, cutting across his explanation. “None of your usual chirps and tweets, little bird, I’ll want a proper song out of you for once.”

“That doesn’t even make any sense,” Neil ground out as he twisted his fingers into the soft material of the sweatshirt. “I can’t-“

“A pretty little song,” Andrew stressed. “One called ‘Neil tells Andrew what he really wants to know for fucking once’. It’ll give me something to look forward to as I’m shortly puking out my guts.”

“Funny,” Neil said, his tone a bit surly because of how Andrew refused to listen to him, “because _I’m_ going to be looking _forward_ to you puking out your guts. Have a good time there, hope you do it lots and lots.” Beside him, Jean snorted in amusement.

“Someone’s being a nasty bird today. Guess it’s true what they say about winning not being everything.” Andrew sounded a little more ‘normal’ now, though still tired.

“It’s better than losing.” Neil smiled at his friend’s muted scoff. “Though we don’t get parties either way. So, uhm, I’ll let you go, yeah? You sound like you need some rest or something, and we’re supposed to meet up with the girls for dinner.” He paused for a moment as he thought about how Andrew had said that he’d be going off the drugs ‘soon’. “Are you… what about next weekend?”

“We’ll be packing everything up so Nicky can head to Germany while Aaron and Kevin stay with Abby, and Bee wants to start me off right away in case there’s any trouble. Less risk of it messing up summer practice that way,” Andrew explained. “How sad if that happens.”

“Okay.” Neil’s teeth bit into his bottom lip twice before he forced himself to smile even though Andrew couldn’t see the expression. “Then good luck and talk to you in June?”

“Most likely, and I hope the Trojans kick your ass,” Andrew called out before he hung up.

Despite everything, Neil continued to smile while Jean complained about ‘rude gargoyles’ as they got off the bed.

“You’d be shocked if he said something nice,” Neil argued as he put the phone away so they could leave the room.

Jean considered that for a moment before he nodded. “True. I doubt the miserable runt has any manners.”

Still, Andrew had offered to help Jean, hadn’t he? Though come to think about it, Neil could only imagine the nightmare it would be to live at PSU with Day, Andrew and Jean in the same close quarters.

“ _What’s that smile for, hmm_?” Jean asked as he narrowed his eyes and reached over with one of those obscenely long arms of his to tug the hood of Neil’s sweatshirt over his head. _“It might be your worst one yet_.”

Bren, who had been waiting out in the hallway for them and busy checking something on his phone, gave Neil an odd look. “You up to something?”

“See, the British oaf agrees with me.”

“I’m gonna let the ‘oaf’ throw you down the hall one day,” Neil warned even though Bren grinned at his ‘nickname’. “ _And I was just thinking of what it would be like, if we’d accepted the offer last night and had to live with Andrew and Day_.”

Jean appeared to shudder in horror for a couple of seconds. “ ** _That_** _would be a true hell_.”

They ate with the girls, Sophie, Ben, and Susan that evening (along with Bren and Janna), and had to listen to Meg talk about her plans to have Kenny Yee visit her family for a few days when she went home for two weeks right after the game with the Trojans (there was much eye-rolling from Marley, who was only going home for one week).

“Avery isn’t going home at all,” Susan said between bites of the broiled chicken and rice that night; she was only going home for a couple of days.

“Is that usual?” Neil asked as he poked at his pile of cooked spinach and glared when Jean gave him a knowing look in return.

“It’s the first year she hasn’t gone for at least a day or two,” Susan admitted as she glanced over at the table where her ‘partner’ was sitting with Bautista, Johnson, Loiseau and a couple of others – with the Ravens who looked up to Riko. “Competition is getting really bad with you strikers.”

“Yeah, at least Haley’s graduating this year, so that’s one down for us dealers, and there’s going to be a lot of open spots on the defense with Mike and Lev graduating,” Sophie said, her face wincing a little as she mentioned Federov – he still hadn’t come back to the Nest because of ‘complications’ with his right hand, which Neil hadn’t thought had been damaged that badly.

“It’s probably why Sean’s been hanging with Rob and Mikey so much lately – he’s trying to move up the defensive line," Ben said as he nodded toward the table where Loiseau and Johnson were sitting, along with the sophomore backliner. Neil had noticed that Lincoln had been spending more time with them in the past week or two… had been spending more time near Riko despite the fact that the teenager had been targeted by the psychopath often enough in the last season.

Neil didn’t understand some people… but perhaps Lincoln was doing his best to avoid ever being in that position again, to being abused by Riko. It was just that Neil couldn’t accept the possibility of becoming _like_ Riko to avoid that, to possibly turning into an abuser in return.

Then again, he was only too aware of his father’s blood in him, of his father’s face staring back at him every time he looked in the mirror.

Marley noticed him poking at the rice on his plate and frowned. “ _Are you okay_?” she asked in French. “ _You seem… is it the_ stunted monkey fucker?”

“Wow, okay, we’re missing out on something,” Ben remarked while Sophie snickered beside him.

“Consider yourself lucky,” Jean sighed.

“It’s not,” Neil assured his friend. “ _At least, not really, and he didn’t do anything bad_.”

“ _For once_ ,” Jean muttered as he picked up a forkful of spinach and held it up to Neil’s face. “ _Now eat_!”

“It’s all Jean’s fault,” Neil whined as he tried to scoot back in his chair, but Jean caught one of the legs with his foot and pulled it closer to the table. “Bren!”

“I’m thinking about how I’m supposed to explain this to your uncle, kid – assault by a deadly vegetable? Nah, I’m gonna let this play out – besides, he’s _French_ , he’s no threat at all,” Bren told him with a big grin as he motioned at Jean.

“Oh _fuck_ yo- agh!” Neil glared as Jean shoved the forkful of awful green shit into his mouth. “Ah ha’ ya,” he mumbled as he did his best to swallow without tasting it.

“Somehow I’ll find the will to live on,” Jean assured Neil with a small, pleased smile while he handed over his cup of water.

“It is good for you,” Meg said in an obvious effort to cheer Neil up. “Lots of vitamins and minerals.”

“Maybe you’ll like it in saag paneer,” Janna offered with a slight smile. “Everything is better with cream and cheese.”

“Oooh, yes,” Marley all but moaned in agreement. “I could eat a _huge_ dish of it right now, and a bunch of naan.”

The two of them bonded over their favorite regional dishes while Neil snatched up Jean’s orange as retribution for inflicting the _awfulness_ upon him (seriously, if he wanted to eat wilted leaves, he’d go outside and forage from the damn trees) while Bren smiled and texted to someone (Davis, probably – Bren seemed to send him a lot of ‘updates’).

Tetsuji’s ‘reign’ of terror continued on Sunday, so there wasn’t much teasing or jokes that day, just everyone doing their best at practice and focusing on watching their last game with the Trojans so they could catch any possible weakness against the other team or spot the mistakes that they’d made which needed corrected before Friday. And there were indeed mistakes – at least according to Tetsuji, who spent three hours pointing out each and every one, often accompanied by a ‘whap’ of his cane on the offending person’s shoulders and back.

Neil’s body was aching by the end of it, considering how long he’d been out on the court for that game, and Jean was only a little better. Marley had been hit a few times, too, Meg a couple, and the rest of the Ravens were grateful when they were allowed to leave at last. Bren and Janna gave Tetsuji measured looks for his coaching ‘style’, but considering that he’d dealt all of the Ravens the same treatment, there wasn’t much they could do that time.

Monday was another harsh morning practice and then out on a campus filled with hyper students decked out in Raven jerseys and the team’s banners everywhere – at least it was finals week, so Neil, Jean, Meg and Marley only had to show up to a few classes for their exams. Neil had progressed far enough with his Japanese that he wasn’t worried about the class, and Statistics wasn’t going to be any problem, either. At least all those years running around in Europe had given him a good enough background for the history class, so he basically only had the one class to worry about, and he was doing all right in that one.

Not that any of his professors would dare to give any of the Ravens a difficult time when it came to finals, considering that they were about to clinch another championship.

Still, the next few days were a blur of practice, interviews, studying and classes, and lots of stress, the latter mostly due to Tetsuji and Riko, who had returned Monday afternoon in a foul mood he barely was able to contain whenever there was press around to film the Ravens out on court or to ask questions about the upcoming game. Riko’s public persona was showing cracks, his smile strained and eyes gleaming with more than just fervor when he talked about defeating (crushing) the Trojans, about the Ravens proving that they were indeed the best, that _he_ was the son of Exy and the best striker the sport had ever seen.

He was still badmouthing Kevin Day whenever possible, to the point that the interviewers would interrupt him and attempt to steer him back on topic, which only made his smile more strained and the madness more bright in his dark eyes.

The Ravens became even more split down the middle, with almost half of the team finding reasons to spend a good bit of the evenings in Neil and Jean’s or Marley and Meg’s rooms, to join them out on the court for the night practice (to be around the only source of protection they knew anymore). Declan stepped in to keep Riko from breaking Jon’s arm, Janna when Bautista had Amy pinned against the wall when she’d stepped out to get some refreshment for her and Naomi.

So when Neil received a text from Ichirou on Thursday that he was ‘invited’ out to dinner that evening… he was torn between leaving Jean and the girls and the others alone in the Nest, and a chance to get away from everything even if it meant… well, even if it meant that he’d have to pay for that escape. He asked Declan if Bren or Janna could come back that night, even if it was their day off, since he didn’t like the idea of there only being one bodyguard in the Nest while Declan went out with him, and was told that Bren was already on his way in.

“He said he was just sitting around at home, might as well get on the boss’ good side and all,” Declan said while Jean did his best not to act bothered by anything.

“I appreciate it.” Neil smiled in gratitude before he went into his room and, after a moment’s debate, pulled out some of the clothes that Ichirou had bought for him in New York. While he tried to figure out what to wear that night, Jean sighed and picked out a pair of dark grey slacks and a pale blue knit shirt.

“These, and the grey shoes,” Jean said as he set them on the bed then came over to tuck back a lock of Neil’s bangs. “Be careful tonight, devil.”

“And you, too. Don’t let Riko get close, okay?” Declan and Quentin would be there, and Tetsuji was allowing them a little bit of a break so they’d be rested for the next day’s game, but Neil didn’t trust their ‘dear’ captain as far as he could throw him with only one arm considering how unstable he’d been – even if part of Neil was delighted by that change. Even if Neil planned on letting Ichirou know how unreliable his brother had become.

“Worry less about me and more about yourself for once,” Jean chided him.

“There’s nothing to worry about,” Neil lied as he ducked his head and set about getting ready so Jean couldn’t spend the rest of the time before he had to leave arguing. As it was, there was much displeased sighing once he fetched the gift bag containing the latest souvenirs for Ichirou.

Bren showed up about half an hour later to take Neil to wherever he was to meet Ichirou for dinner, which turned out to be a three story mansion about ten miles from campus. It was built out of light tan bricks and reminded Neil of some of the houses he’d seen back in Baltimore (not a pleasant memory) with the white columns out front, and there was a double staircase once inside.

A double staircase leading up to the second floor, lots of marble and gleaming wood, and several bodyguards stationed about, one of whom gave Bren a searching look before he nodded at Neil. “I’ll take you to Lord Moriyama,” he told Neil. “Morgan, you can wait in the sitting room.” He motioned to the second door on the right.

Bren hesitated for a moment before he waved to Neil. “Yell or text me and I’ll come running.”

“Hopefully they’ll feed you or something,” Neil told him before he followed Ichirou’s man to the left, into a room full of antiques and pictorial paintings, and into another room with a gleaming round table surrounded with antique chairs, more expensive furniture and windows framed by rich golden fabric spilling onto the wooden floors covered by what looked to be a Persian rug.

Ichirou rose from the table to walk over to Neil and gave him a lingering kiss on the lips. “What do you think, Nathaniel?” He motioned around him as he stepped back.

“Where are the bodies?” Neil asked as he glanced around, but he hadn’t seen any signs of blood or foul play as of yet. “Or was it empty when you got here?”

Ichirou laughed as he leaned against the table, which was set for two people but could seat about six. “No bodies, at least today. I own this place.” There was an amused smile on his face, and he was dressed in dark blue jeans and a black dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up and top three buttons undone.

“Really?” Neil glanced around again before he shook his head. “It doesn’t look like… well, it’s not really you.”

“How so?” Ichirou now appeared curious and reached out to grab onto the strings of the gift bag to tug Neil closer.

“It’s too old-fashioned,” Neil tried to explain as he handed over the bag but didn’t resist standing next to… Ichirou confused him on so many levels – his lord? His lover? “You strike me as more modern.”

“Ah, that is true.” Ichirou nodded once as he looked around as well. “My father bought it and left it as is, since it mostly is meant as property near Edgar Allan where he could bring more ‘respectable’ clients to be impressed when there’s a need.”

“And is there a need?” Neil asked, since Ichirou appeared to be in a talkative mood that evening.

“I wanted to see it for myself, as it’s been several years since I’ve been here, so I could decide what to do with it. That and tomorrow is going to be a very busy day.” He reached out with his free hand to stroke his thumb over the ‘4’ tattooed on Neil’s cheek. “You have an important game and several people will be by to talk to me, so it’s best for us to meet tonight.”

“I see.” Neil tilted his face into Ichirou’s touch; it wasn’t the same as Jean’s, but it still… it still felt nice, he had to admit, especially after such a trying week.

“You appear tired,” Ichirou murmured, his thumb now stroking beneath Neil’s left eye. “I assume you’ve been busy practicing?”

“Yes. Tetsuji has been pushing us to ensure we’re prepared for tomorrow, and….” Neil bit into his bottom lip for a moment, but continued when Ichirou’s fingers tightened on his chin. “We’re used to pushing ourselves for important games, to work hard and everything. But Riko is another thing, especially when we’re always on guard because we never know when he’s going to strike out at one of us.”

Ichirou was quiet for a few seconds before he nodded. “Yes, that would be exhausting.” He let go of Neil’s face to direct his attention to the bag on his lap. “So, did you get me a bear?” he asked with obvious amusement.

Neil groaned at that while he felt his face heat up. “That… I didn’t… you could have _said_ something, dammit. I didn’t know!” And for it to be Andrew who’d told him? For some reason, Neil still felt a rush of embarrassment every time he thought about that.

“Oh, but you do now?” Ichirou grinned as he reached into the bag. “Interesting.” His smile gentled as he pulled out the sea lion plushie. “Then again, I think this is more acceptable.” He set it aside on the table and reached into the bag once more, his eyebrows raising as he pulled out the grey fox. “Really? From _you_?”

“Well, they’re popular in South Carolina it seems,” Neil told him with a grin. “Be thankful it’s not bright orange.”

“Yes, that might be difficult to keep on my desk, be it a gift or not.” Still, Ichirou set it beside the sea lion. “Am I going to have a menagerie soon?” he asked as he reached out to thread his fingers through Neil’s hair.

“Ah, I could get you key chains instead?” Neil offered. “Or shot glasses?” He’d seen a lot of those in the various gift shops, but they didn’t… didn’t quite seem very ‘Ichirou-ish’.

“A menagerie it is,” Ichirou decided before he kissed Neil again, his lips warm and gentle. Neil found himself calming beneath the caress, found himself trusting in that gentleness for some reason, and sighing when it broke off.

“I promised you dinner, didn’t I?” Ichirou pulled out one of the chairs, which Neil took as a sign for him to sit down.

“I don’t know if a promise was involved, but dinner was mentioned, yes,” Neil said as he was pushed toward the table.

“Well, you’re here, Nathaniel, so you might as well eat.” Ichirou sat down in the chair he’d abandoned when Neil had arrived, and another of his men soon came out of the door on the far side of the room with two plates of food, followed by yet another with a tray containing a bottle of white wine and glasses of water.

There was some sort of fish with a fruity salsa served over a fragrant rice which Neil enjoyed immensely while Ichirou quizzed him in detail about what had happened in the past week, pausing slightly over Andrew’s offer of protection (Neil only brought it up since he didn’t know if Bren had passed it on to Stuart, and made sure to stress that he turned it down). When it came time for their dessert, a shortbread with berries and whipped cream, Neil regarded Ichirou with a puzzled look for a few seconds while the young lord sipped a sweet wine which he’d decided wasn’t for him after a small taste. “So, about Federov,” he asked.

“Hmm, the one backliner,” Ichirou acknowledged. “Who _touched_ you.” The darkness was back in his dark gold eyes as he spoke.

“Yes.” Despite it being delicious, Neil decided that he didn’t want any more dessert. “It appears that he won’t be able to play in the game tomorrow?” When Ichirou continued to sip the wine, he sighed. “What all did Bren do to him?” Or someone other than Bren.

“Hand injuries are tricky things, as I’m sure Day can attest to if you ask him,” Ichirou said when he finally set his glass aside. “In Federov’s case, it turned out to be much worse when he received medical attention.” A slight smile hovered on his lips.

Neil considered that statement, and how the upperclassman was supposed to start playing for the Denver Reds after graduation, which didn’t seem likely now. “Will he ever play again?”

Ichirou regarded Neil for several seconds before he spoke, his demeanor diffident. “Do you care?”

That took some thought before Neil could answer, and the memory of the bastard’s hands on him, of the time in the hotel room and the locker room and- “No,” Neil admitted, his voice haggard and the wonderful dinner threatening to come back up all of a sudden. “Not at all.”

“I didn’t think so.” Ichirou poured Neil some more of the dessert wine, their gaze locked together the entire while. “I promised to protect you, Nathaniel, and that’s what I did. Federov will never play again, nor will he come near you again.”

Despite the sweetness of the drink, Neil picked up the glass and toss back its content, desperate for something to wash away the acidic burn in his throat. “I… thank you,” he told Ichirou, content in that one of his nightmares had been put to rest, at least.

It was quiet for another minute or two, Neil lost in his thoughts about why it seemed that people were trying to protect him lately when he was fine, he was perfectly _fine_ , while his tongue teased at the taste of sweetness lingering on his lips and Ichirou sipped more of the dessert wine. Then Ichirou set his empty glass aside.

“Are you finished?”

Neil blinked at the question. “Yes?”

Ichirou’s smile was slightly sardonic as he stood up from the table and held out his hand in an invitation to Neil. “I suppose that’ll do.”

Scrambling to his feet, Neil set the napkin on his lap aside and accepted the hand which led him away from the table with its half-finished plates of desserts and the stuffed animals off to the side, and allowed Ichirou to lead him up the grand staircase.

There were several bedrooms on the second floor, with Ichirou settling on a large one with a huge four-poster bed which Neil had to hop onto after Ichirou pulled off his shirt, the mattress plush and duvet soft. He felt a moment’s panic at Ichirou’s deep frown at the dark bruises on his body from Tetsuji’s cane, the emotion only fading away when the questions about them were finished and the touches along his skin continued to remain gentle, when the pleasure continued to build with a clear intent to cause him as little pain as possible.

Neil _still_ didn’t understand why Ichirou acted the way he did, why he didn’t just take whatever he wanted (like everyone else)… but he did what he could to show his appreciation, grateful that the young man didn’t make things as terrible as he could. He held Ichirou close and touched him in return, rubbed him back and tried to respond in some way that the young lord seemed to like.

Once it was over, Ichirou placed a kiss to his forehead, a gesture which was becoming customary, before he pulled away. “If you’re tired, you can spend the night here,” he offered.

“No, I have one more final tomorrow,” Neil explained. That and he’d sleep better in his own bed with Jean at his back, with that sense of safety.

“All right.” Ichirou slipped on a robe and grabbed something from the nearby nightstand before sitting back on the bed, a small box which he handed to Neil once he sat up. Feeling a little self-conscious, Neil tugged the duvet onto his lap, which made Ichirou smile. “This is for you, something for good luck.”

“Ah, all right.” Neil wasn’t used to gifts, at least ones that were nice. He accepted the elongated box and consoled himself with the fact that it was light, which meant that it shouldn’t be another knife. Well, that it shouldn’t be a _big_ knife.

Upon opening the box, he blinked when he saw what looked to be a silver chain with a flat medallion bearing three mountains in a circular pattern – the Moriyama family crest or mon. Except judging from the weight of the necklace (learned from years of pickpocketing jewelry while on the run), he’d say it was platinum, not silver. “Ah, it’s… unexpected,” he admitted.

“As are your responses, most of the time.” Ichirou took back the box so he could remove the necklace and, after giving Neil a nod, waited for him to lean forward so he could put on the piece of jewelry.

“It’s just that I don’t… well, there’s the clothes you got for me, but other than them, the last gift I got, if you want to call it that, was the knife my father sent me.” Neil waited until the necklace was in place before he leaned back, his right hand rising to grasp the cool metal of the medallion. “Oh, and the fruit baskets, which I liked a lot better. Your presents are _much_ , much better, but I’m not used to getting things,” he admitted. Not during the years on the run with his  mother when their resources had been so limited and they only kept what was absolutely necessary, and not back in Baltimore when such things were deemed ‘frivolous’ by his father.

Ichirou once again rubbed his thumb along the tattoo on Neil’s cheek. “Whereas I find it refreshing that you never ask and never expect. So take this for what I say it is, and I hope it brings you good luck tomorrow and in the future.” He leaned in to give Neil a brief kiss before slipping off the bed once more. “You’ll go now?”

“Yes, as you said, it’ll be a busy day tomorrow.” Neil gave him a smile before he began gathering up his clothes.

“That won’t change once you win – there’s been more offers of endorsement deals for you and Moreau,” Ichirou warned him. “Be prepared to travel this summer.”

“ _Yes, my lord_.” Neil bowed his head and waited for Ichirou to head into the bathroom before he used the already soiled duvet to wipe himself as clean as possible and got dressed.

A guard noticed him coming down the stairs and went to fetch Bren, who eyed him for a few seconds before nodding as if in approval before he waved to the other enforcer as they left. They were quiet until they were out in the SUV. “So… everything all right?” Bren asked. “I wasn’t sure if we were staying the night or what.”

“Ichirou offered, but I want to get back to Jean and the girls.”

“Declan texted me to let me know they’re doing all right,” Bren assured him as he pulled out onto the main road.

“Thank you.” Neil slumped down in the seat, body a bit sore and more than a little tired, but… he supposed he was getting used to things, in the end, as it had been a little easier that time. “I appreciate you being here tonight.”

Bren scoffed at that. “I spent it watching football and having a bunch of nice snacks an’ a couple of beers with guys who do the same job as me, so we got to bitch a little, yeah?” He glanced over at Neil and grinned. “A couple of ‘em speak pretty good English. It was just like being at the pub except not getting drunk so it was a nice night, all in all.”

As long as he’d enjoyed himself. It didn’t take long to return to Edgar Allan and the Nest, and Neil wasn’t surprised to find Ben, Leif, Toby, Dale, Jon and Ren crammed into the room with Jean, all of them with their laptops and a few books for what looked to be a study session.

“Hey, you’re back,” Ben said as the others began to gather up their things; Jean must have told them that they were fine there until Neil returned. The older Ravens didn’t hesitate to pack up their stuff, but Dale and Jon were slow gathering their books, and Neil didn’t think it was just because of all the rough practices lately.

Jean noticed it, too, and sighed before he spoke up. “There’s the spare bed if you two want to spend the night here,” he offered the low-ranked Ravens.

“Really?” Relief was evident on Jon’s face and Dale was quick to stop packing up his bag, while Leif and Ben gave Jean a grateful look as if they had been worried about the two.

“Come on,” Bren told the others. “I’m leaving so I’ll walk with you to your rooms.” The rest hurried to take him up on that, and Neil left it to his partner to settle their guests for the night while he went to shower.

Jean was waiting in the bathroom when he stepped out of the stall to hand him a towel. “ _How was he tonight_?” His grey eyes noticed the necklace and his lips pressed together.

“ _In a generous mood_ ,” Neil said as he dried himself off. “ _It’s for luck_.”

“ _Yes, I’m sure that’s all it’s for, giving you something that so openly bears the Moriyama mark_.” He sighed as he rubbed at his forehead. “ _No lies, Neil, are you all right_?”

Neil draped the towel over his shoulders and pulled on his boxer-briefs before he answered that question. “ _Yes, I am_.” He stood in front of his friend and reached out to gently touch the center of Jean’s chest. “ _He didn’t hurt me, I swear. He fed me dinner and asked me about the last two weeks, and… he doesn’t hurt me. He liked the gifts I gave him and gave me this at the end of the night, and offered for me to stay there to get some rest – it’s this big old mansion a few miles away_.” Neil paused as he thought about everything that had happened. “ _He said we’ll be traveling this summer for more endorsement deals,”_ he smiled a little at Jean’s unhappy moan upon hearing that _, “and he basically admitted to ruining Federov’s career because of how he hurt me_.”

Jean closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “ _He ruined a man for you and gave you a pretty little trinket that marks you as his… how **wonderful**_.” When he opened his eyes to find Neil frowning up at him, he shook his head. “ _You’re not concerned about this at all, are you_?”

“ _I’m not going to lose any sleep over Federov_ ,” Neil admitted, not after what the man had done to him _and_ Jean, would have done to Marley and Meg if given a chance. Not when Neil was doing something similar to Seth Gordon (though not physically) and so couldn’t be that much of a hypocrite. “ _And I do belong to Ichirou._ ”

“ _As always, so close but not quite_ ,” Jean sighed as he reached out to comb his fingers through Neil’s damp hair. “ _Let’s try this – what do you feel for the man, hmm? Please tell me you realize that you’re giving cute gifts to someone who **owns** you, who sees you as a belonging_.”

What had gotten into Jean that night? “ _Of course_.” When Jean gave a doubtful huff at that, Neil narrowed his eyes. “ _Do I prefer Ichirou to his brother and uncle? Yes. Do I mind the time I spend with him_?” Neil’s scowl faltered as he thought about the last couple of hours. “ _Up to a point. But I never forget that I made a deal with him… and I never forget what happened to my mother_.” His left hand lifted to rub first the scars on his chest and then the old burn across his shoulder. “ _I’m not going to be stupid and **ever** forget about what happened to her_.” She had probably thought at first that Nathan Wesninski was ‘nice’ and enjoyed spending time with him, too, and regretted ever feeling that way with her dying breath. No, Neil trusted Ichirou in that he knew he had value to the man and that there was the deal between them, but Ichirou was _still_ a Moriyama.

Jean gazed down at him for a few more seconds before lightly rubbing at the back of his head. _“I’m sorry, I wanted to be certain of that. Kevin trusted Riko, after all, and it would break me if you were hurt anything like he was_ ,” he said in a rough voice.

“ _I won’t, not when I have you to guard my back_.” Neil smiled as he rested his forehead against Jean’s scarred chest. “ _Even if you **are** French_.” At least, he smiled until there was a gentle smack to the back of his head. “Ow.”

“ _Dry your hair and get ready for bed, you devil_ ,” Jean told him as he gave him a gentle push away, a stern look on his face. “ _I refuse to let you to fall ill and die, only to haunt me for the rest of my life_.”

Neil made a rude gesture at his partner, and ended having the towel flipped over his head.

It was an abbreviated practice in the morning due to the amount of press and visitors at Evermore, and Neil felt his skin crawl over how many strangers were out on the campus as Jean went with him so he could ace his Japanese oral exam. Then it was back to the Nest for a light lunch and a review session of the Trojans, before the team geared up and went out on the court for some drills and more ‘media exposure’.

Neil had debated taking the necklace off while he dressed… but kept it on, tucked beneath his undershirt.

After his fifth interview of the day, Neil was motioned aside by Nakamura to behind the inner court where he found his uncle waiting for him, dressed in a bespoke suit and smoking a cigarette. Neil smiled and forced himself to relax as he was pulled into a quick hug. “You look… well, you look better than you did in New York, but they need to give you a break, kiddo.”

“It’s the final game of the season,” Neil explained. “Everyone’s training really hard for it.”

Stuart’s lips pressed together as if he wanted to say something but thought better of it, then he shook his head. “You’re doing really great, Nathaniel. The family’s proud of you and the little prince is happy, too.” For a moment his expression was bitter as he mentioned Ichirou, and then he smiled at Neil with pride. “He said he told you about the new deals coming your way, right? That’s more money and exposure for you, means that you’re really popular.”

Neil blushed a little at that and shrugged. “It should help me come draft time, which is still a few years off. As long as I don’t mess anything up, that is.” He didn’t want to think about something so far away, not when an injury or a scandal could ruin everything.

“You’ll do fine,” Stuart assured him as he tousled Neil’s hair (why did everyone do that to him?). “Just keep focusing on winning these games, all right?”

“I will,” Neil promised.

“That’s a good boy.” Stuart paused to take a drag from his cigarettes while he regarded Neil as if memorizing him for some reason, maybe to report back to Uncle Will about how Neil was doing. “Bren tell you how that one prick is doing? The one you asked us to take care of for you?”

“Gordon?” Neil nodded. “He said something about looking into his past classes or something.” Neil had noticed how the striker hadn’t been present at the game with the Foxes last week.

“Yeah, Sunny spent a few nights hanging out at the one bar he and his buddies favored and overheard them talking about some shite related to their classes, and sent a ‘tip’ in to a professor about him buying a paper or two.” Stuart’s smile took on a pleased edge which Neil recognized from years spent with his mother that someone had just taken a nasty hit in some form or another. “Guess that’s easy to track down these days?”

“Yeah.” Neil knew that he’d been warned at the start of the school year about it – the implication had been that there were ‘options’ if any of the Ravens needed a paper or essay turned in and they were struggling with either the class or their academic workload, but under no under no circumstances were they to try to plagiarize a paper or buy one on their own and risk being caught by a professor. It sounded as if the Foxes didn’t have such an arrangement – that or Gordon had been a lazy fool.

So much for the bastard graduating… Neil didn’t feel an ounce of guilt, not when he still bore bruises from Tetsuji’s cane all over his body, not when he could hear Riko yell at Susan about her supposedly missing a shot on purpose (not likely when she was one of the best goalies in the division), anger crackling in his voice. Not when Neil had no say in the endorsement deals coming his way, when he would be back on the court tomorrow and the next day and the next, with no choice to go anywhere because the Nest was his home until Ichirou told him otherwise.

All because Seth Gordon had posted about him on that forum out of jealousy or hatred or _something_. He didn’t even know Neil and he’d ruined his life. Well, Neil had just returned the favor.

“Yeah,” Stuart echoed. “So is everything else all right? Bren and the others are doing their jobs?” The look he gave Neil after asking that made it clear that they better be, or Gordon wouldn’t be the only one suffering.

“Yes, they are,” he assured his uncle. “It’s gotten a lot better around here with them, so thank you.”

“Well, I do what I can, now that… you know.” He gave Neil another quick hug. “I should get back up there as it is, but I wanted to stop by and see you since it’s been a few weeks. If you’re in New York this summer, I should get to see you more often.”

“That’ll be nice.”

“Good luck with the game tonight, not that I think you need it. I’ll be watching up above with the little prince.” Stuart waved as he stepped away, and Neil watched him for a few seconds, an odd feeling of happiness settling inside of him at the knowledge that he still had some family left who cared about him.

Then it was back to drills under Tetsuji’s sharp eye, him and Jean and the girls as far away from Riko as possible.

The Trojans arrived early, but Neil supposed that with it being the last game of the season, it gave them a little extra time to recover from traveling across the country as well as a chance to partake in the interviews as well. Rhemann came over to talk with Tetsuji, who was as cold and curt as always, and Knox attempted once again to talk to Riko who blew him off just like he’d done back in California.

However, Knox didn’t appear to take offense at that, he merely shrugged and glanced around before grinning once he caught sight of Jean and then strode across the court toward them.

“Surfer Boy alert,” Marley murmured as she twirled her racquet in her hands. “Is it me or are his teeth even brighter today?”

“I think he got his hair cut,” Meg said as she squinted at him. “ _Jean_ , he got his hair cut for you!”

“It’s not for me,” Jean snapped as he shoved his racquet at Meg and folded his arms over his chest while he glared at the approaching captain.

“Jean! How are you doing? That was a great game last week!” Knox called out as he waved his right hand about and seemed to bounce while he walked. “How do you manage to play for so long? I was so exhausted after that game with the Foxes!”

“ _Does he have a disease_?” Neil asked, his voice pitched low as he eyed the Trojan with concern. “ _That much energy isn’t normal, is it_?”

Jean gave a slight shake of his head as his frown deepened. “Practice and devotion,” he told Knox, his tone and demeanor severe. “It’s why we’re going to win tonight.”

Knox laughed as he came to a halt a little more than arm’s length away from the four of them, right in front of Jean and his attention focused on the backliner. “Well, we’re going to do our best to take the title away from you, sorry.”

“Your best isn’t good enough,” Jean sneered.

Despite his bright smile, there was a gleam of determination in Knox’s blue eyes. “I’ll have to disagree with you, but we’ll find out soon, right? I’m really excited about today’s game, about being able to play against you again.”

“You must live to be embarrassed, then,” Jean continued to sneer. “How pathetic.”

“I like to think of it as enjoying the challenge you Ravens present,” Knox argued as his smile took on a sharp edge. “ _You_ in particular.”

“Oooh, good one,” Meg murmured, only for Marley to give her a tap in the ribs with her elbow.

Jean’s expression remained scornful, but Neil picked up on his sudden unease by the way his long, elegant fingers (a couple of them slightly crooked because of Riko’s abuse) took to tugging on the sleeves of his black jersey.

“Too bad you’re not much of a challenge in return,” Neil said as he shifted forward to stand a little in front of his partner. “Do us a favor and try a bit harder than last time, okay? We don’t want to be _too_ bored tonight.”

For a moment Knox’s eyes narrowed in the first display of temper that Neil had witnessed from him, but then he seemed to notice how Jean had relaxed a little and was shaking his head and was back to smiling. “I promise we’ll do our best. I know you guys never disappoint so why should we?” He gave them a quick wave, his attention lingering on Jean for a moment, before he went back to join the rest of his team.

“Surfer Boy is crashing and burning, no?” Marley sang out as she edged closer to Jean. “He’s like a puppy, you need to smack his nose with a rolled up newspaper or something to make him behave.”

Jean gave her an incredulous look. “I’m beginning to see why you’re single, ma puce. Men aren’t dogs.”

“Says someone who’s never dated a bad one, no?” Meg asked. At Neil’s curious look, she shrugged. “What, too harsh?”

“I’m just wondering what that says about your darling Kenny.”

“It’s why I’m putting up with him despite all the lousy jokes over me liking a Fox,” she said. “But this isn’t about me, it’s about _Jean_ , our beloved crusty baguette.”

“No, no, let’s make it about _you_ , mon lapin,” Jean argued. “You and your lousy taste in men.”

Meg gave him a narrow look at that. “I am really, _really_ gonna enjoy knocking that surfer boy on his ass today, just so you know.”

“I don’t care,” Jean said through gritted teeth, but Neil thought that lacked a bit of conviction. “Knock him down all you want… if you can with your wretched skills.”

“Wow, so nice to know it’s not about us for once, yeah?” Neil said to Marley, who was smiling as if she enjoyed the bit of drama between their two friends.

“I am going to throw this back in their faces for _years_ ,” Marley declared. “I just wish we had popcorn right now.”

“My ‘wretched’ skills will do just fine, since he’ll be too busy staring at your lame ass all night,” Meg shot back. “But what do you care, right? You and your high and mighty, ’I’m _French_ so I’m too good for everyone and everything’.”

“She might have scored a point there,” Neil whispered as he leaned on his racquet to watch the ongoing show, fascinated despite himself.

“Yeah, my girl got skills,” Marley agreed with a proud grin.

“That doesn’t even make any sense, you- are we amusing you?” Jean snapped as he turned to glare at Neil and Marley.

“Actually, yeah,” Marley admitted with a big grin. “Keep it up.” She made a circular motion with her right hand. “Though it’s kinda difficult to dispute the whole French thing, I’m sure.”

“Oh no, he only thinks he’s all high and mighty.” Neil grimaced. “Napoleon complex much?”

“I don’t think you’re using that phrase right,” Marley told him.

“Total failure? Yeah, I am,” Neil said. “That sums up the French about right.”

Jean was quiet for a few seconds, and then he drew himself up to his full height while his grey eyes narrowed before he sucked in a full breath. “Right, because you British spawns of Hell-“

Neil was actually disappointed that Tetsuji called all the Ravens to gather together right then because he was certain that whatever his partner was about to unleash upon him, it would have been _memorable_.

However, any squabbling among the four of them was stopped once they were among the other Ravens and had to deal with Riko glaring at them while Tetsuji gave the team one of the most straightforward pep talks ever (win or they were worthless) before they went back out to do their regular pre-game drills.

“Do we want to make a bet on how long before the Crusty One is pining for Surfer Boy?” Marley asked as she and Neil took their turns practicing shots on the goal.

Neil gave her an incredulous look. “Okay, and I thought _I_ was bad at this whole ‘relationship’ thing. You think he’s going to admit anything in the next year or two?”

Marley seemed to think about that until they each made a goal. “Yeah, you’re right. Surfer Boy’s gonna need to tackle him or something.”

Neil winced at that, about everything Jean had been through and all. “Might not be a good idea.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry. Send him lots of brie?” Marley gnawed on a hangnail as she seemed to give it some more thought. “What _do_ French people like? Surfer Boy has his job cut out for him, no?”

“Yeah.” On one hand, Neil didn’t like how uneasy Knox made Jean feel. On the other hand… he realized it was important that Knox _did_ make Jean feel, and he remembered the wistful expression on his partner’s face when Jean had talked about Knox’s feelings not being genuine for him. Something was going on there, and until he knew for certain that Jean didn’t care for Knox? He’d see how this whole thing played out on the chance that Jean ended up with some much deserved happiness.

Riko started barking out orders the closer it got to game time as if to exert his authority, to prove to the cameras and the visitors lingering around court that he was in charge (that he deserved his captaincy), to the point that Neil was eager for the game to start. He didn’t doubt that the Ravens would win, not after all of the effort they had put into the season, not after all the time spent on the court with his teammates, and it was a relief when the time came for Riko and Knox to meet out on court for the flip of the coin to determine which team gained control of the ball for the start of the game.

The Trojans won it that time, with Knox giving a jaunty wave as he went back to his team once the call was decided. There were a fair amount of Trojan fans in the crowd with their red and gold signs, grouped together as if for their own protection. Considering the devotion of the Ravens’ fans… Neil didn’t doubt it.

The crowd was so loud that Neil could feel it through his entire body, the thumping sound of the Ravens’ fans stomping their feet and the screams echoing through Evermore… it both centered and energized him as he took his place out on court before the start of the game, out near Riko as a starting striker, and cleared his mind as he prepared to play Exy.

All that mattered was the game.

Aware of the thousands of people watching them (hundreds of thousands), of the people up in the _East Tower_ watching them, Neil gave it his all, as always. The Trojans were more focused than in the semi-finals, a bit more forceful while still not crossing the line of foul play or too rough.

If only Riko played by the same rule-book, considering that he was yanked by Tetsuji in the middle of the first quarter because of a generous yellow card when he slammed the Trojans’ dealer hard enough into the wall that she was out for the rest of the game. There were actual boos over that as he was escorted off of the court, and not just from Trojan fans.

Neil had to admit that the USC tried their best, that they pushed hard and seemed to have spent the last two weeks polishing their game. But the Ravens – despite their longstanding reign as the champions – never took anything for granted and had been working just as hard as well, if not harder. They’d been devoting so much of their time and energy to this rematch, to the season on the whole, that they weren’t about to quit when they were so close to winning it all.

Despite how exhaustive it was to play a team of the Trojans’ caliber for a full game (and really? Tetsuji still wouldn’t let Marley or Toby or even _Avery_ replace him for half a quarter or something?), Neil took pride in knowing that the Ravens were earning their latest title, that no one could dispute that they were the best team in the NCAA Class I division. The stadium all but shook with each goal that he or one of the other Ravens scored, that Jean or Susan or the others blocked, and he knew that this would be one of the nights that he’d never forget (for all the right reasons).

Meg got to knock Knox down a couple of times in the third quarter, and Marley made some impressive saves as well as two goals in the second half. The Ravens were leading nine to six when Riko came back out in the fourth quarter – not as wide a spread as their last game, but still a clear lead all things considered when the Trojans were dead set on putting up more of a fight as possible that year.

Right away Riko tried to dominate the last quarter, but if the Trojans had learned anything in their last two games, it was to save something for the end. Knox was back out on the court and had a renewed fire in him, appearing unwilling to go down under Riko’s assault, and Neil wondered if Tetsuji had said something to his nephew because the asshole barely, just _barely_ , managed to avoid being hauled off with a red card.

Ben kept the Trojans from scoring, but then again, so did Dermott in the Trojans’ goal. It was getting down to the last minute of the game when Naomi gained control of the ball, and she could either throw it to Riko or Neil.

She threw it to Neil.

He was close enough to the Trojans’ goal that his ten steps placed him near Alvarez, who attempted to take him down on his approach. Remembering a tactic he’d used against the Foxes earlier in the season, Neil threw the ball toward the wall as he fell to his knees and bent nearly perpendicular to the floor, which avoided Alvarez’s grab at him while he slid past her, and moved along to catch the ball on its rebound. His knees burned when he jumped back up and twisted about to fire off a shot at the goal, right past a confused Dermott to score a goal before the final buzzer.

The crowd roared at the final score of ten to six, at the Ravens getting one more goal against the closest thing to what could be considered their rivals, while Neil grinned in victory and fought not to slump back down to his knees in utter fatigue.

The fact that they’d won, that everything he’d worked so hard for and sacrificed for and… _they’d won_ was a mantra repeating inside of Neil’s head while the stadium reverberated from the force of the fans stomping their feet and shouting from the bottom of their lungs, from the band blasting the Ravens’ victory song as loud as they could. He thought that Dermott called something out to him on her way to her teammates, but Neil’s hearing was muffled from the rush of blood through his veins as he took off his helmet and stumbled forward a step or two, his legs weak from both running for so long and the abuse he’d put them through at the end.

He could see Jean, Naomi and Ben headed his way… along with Riko, whose angry strides ate up the wooden floor of the court.

“ _You dare to act so presumptuous_?” Riko raved in Japanese as he closed in on Neil, his racquet held sideways in his hands and voice crackling with rage. “ _You’re **nothing**! You’re only here for the sake of your betters_!”

Neil noticed Knox was edging closer to Jean as well with a worried expression on his face, before he focused his attention on Riko. “ _I’m a Raven_ ,” he told the prick. _“I’m here for the sake of the team_!” Did the psychopath not realize that they had an audience of _thousands_ watching them at the moment? More if one considered the cameras recording the game?

Riko stomped even closer, near enough for Neil to flinch from the blatant madness in those near black eyes. “You’re what I tell you to be, and that’s-“ He drew in a sharp breath as his gaze fixed on something lower than Neil’s face, at something on Neil’s chest… and Neil glanced down to realize that the necklace which Ichirou had given him must have slipped free during the game and now rested on top of his jersey.

He went to tuck it back inside, and jerked back just in time to avoid Riko’s grab for the jewelry, which caused his legs to give out and him to fall onto his ass.

Which caused Riko’s already unsteady temper to flare even hotter, for the madness to grow stronger inside of him at that new bit of defiance from Neil alongside the evident sign of favor from Ichirou (or so Neil assumed), and Riko let out a mumbled curse as he pulled himself upright enough so he could swing his racquet back with enough force to smash it down on Neil.

Except that Jean came diving down toward Neil to knock him out of the way, while Knox and Ben slammed into Riko to send him into the floor and pin him down while the bastard ranted and raved in a mix of broken English and Japanese.

“ ** _This_** _is why I call you a devil,_ ” Jean complained, his voice weak but arms wrapped tight around Neil while people converged around a struggling Riko.

“ _But I didn’t **do** anything_ ,” Neil argued even as he slumped against his partner.

Jean didn’t say anything else, just held on to him for about a minute (until a still raving Riko was hauled away), then helped him stand up. At that point, Marley and Meg came over to fuss over Neil and make sure he was all right, while Knox hovered nearby and eyed Jean as if to reassure himself that things were fine with the two of them (well, with _Jean_ , Neil suspected).

In light of the Ravens’ captain appearing to have a mental breakdown and attempt to harm a fellow teammate out on court… there was a very hasty ‘thanks for the game’ exchange with the Trojans before the Ravens retreated to their locker room, and no interviews with the press (at least on their part).

The mood in the locker room was a bit somber despite their win because of Riko, and somehow Neil wasn’t surprised when Bren appeared after he’d finished showering and changed into a clean outfit to indicate that his presence was required up in the East Tower.

Jean slammed his locker shut and shook his head. “ _Why do you need to go up there?  You said that-_ “ He caught himself in time and shook his head again. “ _Why_?”

“ _That’s what I’m about to find out_ ,” Neil told him. “ _My uncle’s here so it should be fine_.”

Bren sighed as he glanced back and forth between the two of them. “Look, I’m not asking for the hell of it, okay? There isn’t a choice here.”

“I know.” Neil gave Jean as reassuring a smile as possible before he closed his own locker. “I’ll be back soon.”

Jean glared at Bren as he waved them away. “Yes, _you will_.”

Bren let Jean have the last word and didn’t say anything until they were well on their way to the East Tower. “Good game tonight. Well, until the whole attempted murder thing.” He didn’t appear happy then, but Neil supposed it was because he and Janna had spent a good bit of the day away from Neil and the others because of all of the press hovering around the Ravens; they couldn’t stick around too close and risk someone asking about their presence, and of course they couldn’t do much during the actual game.

“The others did a decent job of knocking Riko down.”

“They shouldn’t have had to do that,” Bren said in an affronted tone, to which Neil refrained from pointing out the fact that Riko being a psychotic asshole was the reason why Bren was there in the first place.

While Neil wasn’t that surprised to be called up to the East Tower after what had happened at the end of the game, he was surprised to see the people assembled there – Ichirou, Stuart, Tetsuji and Riko, along with several of Ichirou’s bodyguards. He hadn’t thought that Ichirou would ever allow Riko in his presence, yet there his younger brother sat on one of the black leather couches.

Neil tensed at the sight of his ‘king’ considering that Riko had tried to bash his brains in with an Exy racquet a short while ago, yet there was a haze to Riko’s dark eyes and a looseness to his muscles which clued him in to the fact that someone had the forethought to drug the bastard. Tetsuji sat next to him, his back stiff and jaw clenched, which indicated that he was neither medicated nor pleased at the moment, which Neil didn’t really care about, all things considered.

No, he cared about how Stuart’s expression was blank but not grave, his body mostly relaxed as he leaned against the wall of windows across the room. He cared about how Ichirou came forward and greeted him with a quiet ‘Nathaniel’ and a brief kiss, his right hand pressed against the necklace left gleaming against the black Edgar Allan sweatshirt Neil wore.

Riko made a muffled sound as Neil and Ichirou broke apart, which they both ignored. “Congratulations on your win tonight,” Ichirou said, his hand warm and heavy against Neil’s chest.

“Thank you. I did my best.”  He looked up at his ‘lord’ and smiled. “Your good luck charm seemed to work.”

“I’m sure there was more to it than that.” Ichirou stepped away and let his hand fall down to his side. “From what I could see, you and the others worked hard out there and should be commended. Unlike your captain.”

Tetsuji stirred at that while Riko made another garbled sound. “Riko is one of the best-“

“No,” Ichirou said with clear authority as he met his uncle’s gaze and held it, his expression harsh and lacking any pity. “I’ve stood back and watched for the last year or two, aware that the time would come when I would have to make a decision on what was best for this branch, and what did I find? A flagrant waste of resources.” Disdain dripped from his smooth voice as he regarded his uncle. “You allowed a petulant, spoiled child to maim Kevin Day and almost do the same to two other valuable assets, and to wreak havoc amongst players who should be contributing to the success of our brand. Instead, there’s money lost to ensure their silence over what happened here, along with possible revenue down the drain.”

“ _I_ am in charge of this program,” Tetsuji tried to argue. “I’ve built this sport-“

“You’ve built this sport with money provided to you by my father,” Ichirou reminded him. “This stadium wouldn’t exist without money from the main branch. Your _existence_ is due to the benevolence of the main branch.” He stared down his uncle until Tetsuji looked away first. “And now I find a mistake you took in is threatening to undo the one benefit you provide to this family.” Riko moaned again while Ichirou continued to gaze at Tetsuji.

“I’ll control him better,” Tetsuji argued. “He needs more discipline, more-“

“No,” Ichirou said in a cold voice. “He’s drawn too much unwelcome attention to your program with his actions this season, let alone tonight. There’s been too many injuries this year, too many broken Ravens, that my people warn me that your university’s president is beginning to grow concerned. It ends tonight.” He nodded to the men standing near the couch. “Riko will be admitted to a private mental hospital following his very public breakdown. I advise you to rethink your training methods moving forward, Uncle.”

“ _No, you can’t do this_!” Tetsuji called out in Japanese as the men grabbed Riko and hauled him up from the couch; he struggled with them while gazing wide-eyed at Ichirou with something resembling betrayal while garbled words tumbled out of his mouth, but he was too drugged to put up a proper fight. “ _He’s still of value, he-_ ”

“ _No, he isn’t._ _You were the one who broke him_ ,” Ichirou told his uncle. “ _This is on you_.” He gave the man a cold look as he waved his enforcers out of the room with his brother. “ _Take care, or you’ll join him_.”

For a moment it looked as if Tetsuji would further protest or say something else, and then he drew in a sharp breath before he followed the men (and Riko) out of the room. Neil watched them leave with some satisfaction before he returned his attention back on Ichirou.

“Do you think it’s that easy?” Neil doubted things when they seemed that ‘easy’; he much preferred it when there was a dead body as irrefutable proof, but supposed he couldn’t be too choosy at the moment. Would it be too much to ask for weekly updates or something to prove that Riko was indeed locked up and suffering like he deserved?

(A dark part of him wondered if lobotomies were still an option. Not for the general population, but just for _Riko_.)

Ichirou seemed to consider the question as he went to pour two glasses of whiskey. “Riko will never leave the hospital. In a few months there will be a convenient accident.” He held out one of the glasses and waited for Neil to accept it. “As for my uncle? We’ll have to wait and see.”

Neil supposed it was too much for something to happen to both of them at the same time, especially if Ichirou was trying to avoid drawing negative attention to Evermore.

Stuart stepped forward and poured himself some whiskey, which earned him a wry look from Ichirou. “He’s gonna fight it. Old bastard is used to doing what he wants here.” He gave a significant glance Neil’s way before looking at Ichirou.

“Your people are here for a reason,” Ichirou stated, yet despite his confident tone his left hand settled on Neil’s right hip and pulled him closer.

“As long as my people have a bit more leeway when it comes to the smacking around part,” Stuart argued before he drank down the whiskey, while over to the side Neil noticed that Bren all of a sudden appeared hopeful.

Ichirou seemed to consider that while he sipped his own drink. “We can come to a compromise, I’m certain.”

Neil had a sip of his own whiskey, which wasn’t his favorite beverage but he figured he should do something to celebrate that night. Not only had the Ravens won the championship, but his plan to take down Riko had worked. Mostly worked.

It had gotten Riko away from Jean and the girls and the Ravens, so it was good enough. At least for the time being. Neil would reconsider things later if that ‘accident’ didn’t happen, but at the moment? He was weary and excited about the prospect of a future without a sadistic bastard trying to tear him apart each day.

Well, at least one sadistic bastard. He just had to figure out what to do with Tetsuji, but that was a problem for another day. One Moriyama down, one more to go.

*******

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *******  
> Hmm, okay, so, definitely some changes here. Obviously a lot of impact to Kevin because of no Neil on the team. I tried to show how he had some 'spirit' because of Andrew and Wymack and the Foxes managing some improvement (but not as much as they would have w/ Neil), but he didn't quite have the confidence to pull the left hand thing earlier in the season. Yet his hand still healed and yes, as Andrew indicated in his thoughts, he'll be using it in the upcoming season. 
> 
> And Bee? I hope that scene didn't come across as too improbable, but her reaction at the end there with Aaron was meant to both help make sure he was able to survive to come to another one and show that her primary focus is still Andrew.
> 
> Don't think Ichirou is 'weak' in that he didn't kill Riko. It's a 'didn't kill him YET' thing. Reread what Ichirou said there - it's all about not drawing unwanted attention, and read the last chapter or two. Riko has drawn a LOT of negative attention to the team lately... in fact he's done it the past season w/ the injured players and his actions. Ichirou doesn't want people to come in and tear apart the program, especially when he's just taken over things, so it's less of a 'scandal' for Riko to seek 'help' than for him to 'commit suicide'.
> 
> At least, not right away. If it looks like Tetsuji has some sort of control over things, than he can avoid the university president from interfering at that point (especially since there was no 'Jean' incident).
> 
> Uhm... did I miss anything else of importance? Feel free to ask.
> 
> So, the next chapter. Oh yes, so excited for it. More big things in it. Don't think everything is all happy and safe at the Nest, not just yet. Nope. And big changes for Andrew....
> 
> Happy Holidays! (for those who have any holidays in the next few days)
> 
> And as always, thanks so much for the kudos and comments!


	14. Sober Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, what happened last time? Andrew had his and Renee's suspicions about certain abuses occurring at the Nest confirmed and decided to extend an offer of protection to Neil, freeing him from the Nest and Moriyama control. He also had a 'revealing' session with Aaron and Bee, where he confronted Aaron about what happened with Tilda that day in the car and that he killed her FOR Aaron (and oh, yes, Neil knows the truth). They left things there, though, to work through Aaron having to accept how those fact affects their relationship later.
> 
> The Foxes lost the game against the Ravens, but they did better than their previous game in October. Riko was NOT gracious with the win, and when Neil, Jean and Bren showed up to talk to Andrew (and Kevin)... Neil turned down the offer with obvious regrets, telling Andrew it wasn't possible at the time and that he had people of his own to protect. Andrew was understandably upset.
> 
> Back at the Nest, Neil was left dealing with an increasingly unstable Riko and more difficult practices as the Ravens prepared for their final game with the Trojans. He had dinner (and more) with Ichirou and brought up the topic about Riko, and was given a medallion bearing the Moriyama crest. Back at the Nest, the team grew fractured - those who supported Riko, and those who went to Neil and Jean for protection from Riko's abusive behavior. 
> 
> The Trojans arrived for the championship game, and there was more teasing of Jean about Knox. The Trojans put up a good fight, but the Ravens won, with Neil getting the last goal. Riko was VERY unhappy about that fact and confronted Neil about it, with Neil taunting him back. That led to Riko attempting to hit Neil with his racquet (especially after seeing the necklace), but Jean knocked Neil out of the way and a couple of Ravens as well as Knox tackled Riko to the ground. 
> 
> Neil was called up to the East Tower where Ichirou informed him that Riko was to be admitted to a mental hospital until a suitable time when his 'suicide' could be staged because of all the negative attention he's drawn to Evermore lately, and Tetsuji was given a warning to better handle things.  
> *******
> 
> So, here we are! OMFG, another long chapter, but not quite so long as the other ones? And we're finally clear of the books' plots! New territory! Uhm... maybe halfway through this monster? We should be starting real time-jumps soon, so we shall see. If you haven't figured it out yet, the intent is to get Neil through university, but I won't be devoting so much attention to every year as I did his first one. But I do has plans for the boy (and Andrew) oh yes....
> 
> Uhm... okay, this chapter. Hmm. You'll start seeing some of that new plot, and how we're bringing the two teams together (please forgive me). 
> 
> Trigger warnings? Well, mention of drugs/rehab and throwing up/effects of rehab, and some abuse (though nothing as bad as previous chapters and again, nothing explicit). If you feel like I'm not catching stuff, please let me know.
> 
> And once again, much thanks to Fall-for-the-Game for the beta!  
> *******

*******

Neil was up in the East Tower for another half an hour or so with Stuart and Ichirou after Riko and Tetsuji left, listening to the two men talk about various items of business (a couple of upcoming trips for Ichirou, the new endorsement deals for Neil and Jean, a rival to be eliminated), before spending a few minutes alone with Ichirou in the small office for kisses which left him breathless and his lips sore from their intensity. Ichirou said that they would see each other in about two weeks before wishing him a good night then sent him off with Bren.

“So, the little rabid fucker’s gone, eh?” Bren said once they were alone in the elevator.

“Any idea where?” Neil asked while he rubbed at his eyes; it had been a very long day – a very long week, actually, and he just wanted to sleep.

“I can find out,” Bren promised. “It shouldn’t be a secret, not among _us_ at least.”

Neil imagined that it probably wouldn’t be made public, wherever Ichirou placed Riko, but yes, it would be known to Ichirou’s people and the Hatfords’ so they could arrange the ‘accident’ at the appropriate time.

When they reached Neil’s room, it wasn’t a surprise to find the girls waiting there with Jean, since Bren had been off with Neil, though Neil wasn’t the only one with news to tell. “Training’s been cancelled for tomorrow,” Jean informed him after tugging him over to their bed, his gaze intent as if to ensure that Neil was still in one piece (if a bit sore and exhausted). “Possibly Sunday as well.”

“It figures that Tetsuji finally gives everyone a break when we’re leaving for a short while,” Marley complained. “Probably needs the time to smack some sense into the shit-turd, right?” She was sitting cross-legged on the other bed next to Meg, who had her phone in her lap (she’d most likely been talking to Kenny and her parents while waiting for Neil to return).

“About that.” Neil leaned against Jean’s left side, grateful for his partner’s warmth and eager for the day to finally end. “Ichirou’s having Riko committed to a mental hospital because of his behavior.” When Jean’s body tensed at that statement, Neil gave first Marley then Meg a solemn look. “That’s not to be repeated, okay? Maybe Tetsuji’s going with Riko so it looks like _he_ did it, but he’s gone and Tetsuji’s not going to be able to bring him back.”

The girls were quiet for several seconds before Marley gave a slight laugh. “Well I’d hope that he’s not coming back, not someone as messed up as him. Lock him up and get rid of the damn key.”

“That’s… that’s not nice,” Meg complained as she drew her knees up to her chest.

Marley gave her partner a disbelieving look. “No, me saying that about _Avery_ is ‘not nice’. This is a guy who hurts people because he _can_ , Meg. He _enjoys_ causing pain. You don’t fix that, you get it the hell away from everyone else.”

Meg stared back for a few seconds before shaking her head. “Maybe they can help him.”

“And maybe they can turn sharks into vegans, but I won’t hold my breath,” Neil added to the discussion. “The most important thing is Riko’s gone from the Nest.” Now for them to deal with the mess he left behind, and Tetsuji.

“Yeah.” Marley nudged Meg in the side before she got up from the bed. “We’ll be sure to act all surprised when the news gets out, but I know I’m a lot happier now.” She came over and, when Neil didn’t flinch or move away, gave him a quick hug. “You take care, Shorty. I’ll see you in a week. Get some rest this weekend, okay?”

Meg gave him a hug as well; Neil realized that since he didn’t have to be up early for practice that he could sleep in and so would not be around when the girls left for their flight in the morning. “Try not to smuggle too many spices back in your luggage.”

“Marco Polo’s gonna have nothing on me,” Marley told him on her way to the door. “The question is, how much weight is Meg gonna gain in two weeks, hmm?”

“Come on, do you know how much I’ve been missing my mom’s chocolate pie? Or her mac and cheese?” The door’s closing shut off the litany of food that Meg was listing, and while Neil knew he’d miss them in a couple of days, right then he was so grateful that the two were finally gone.

“ _Can we really just… just sleep in ‘til whenever tomorrow_?” The last time they’d done that had been… he didn’t want to think about spring break just then.

“ _So it seems_.” Jean gave him a slight push to make him sit up. “ _What all did Ichirou say about Riko? Is he really having him admitted like that_?”

Neil got up so he could change into his ‘pajamas’ and brush his teeth before going to bed. “ _He told Tetsuji that Riko’s to be admitted because it’ll draw the least attention to things._ ” Once he’d changed his clothes, Neil looked at Jean. “ _And made it clear that Riko will never leave the hospital alive, as well as that if Tetsuji keeps complaining about things, that Tetsuji can join him there_.”

It was quiet while they brushed their teeth. “ _He couldn’t have been happy about that_ ,” Jean said when they were done.

“ _No, he wasn’t_ ,” Neil agreed, knowing that his friend meant Tetsuji. “ _But Ichirou is tired of all the negative publicity that Riko’s caused, and doesn’t want President Andritch to have an excuse to look into things here_.” If Edgar Allan’s university president investigated the Exy program, he might find out too much about what went on in the Nest and even up in the East Tower, which could lead to some ‘unpleasant’ things.

Jean seemed to think that over while they settled in bed. “ _No, that wouldn’t be good. It’s just… part of me can’t believe that he’s gone. Riko_.”

Neil turned to face his friend and wrapped his arm around Jean’s waist. “ _He’s a threat to Ichirou, he has to be dealt with somehow_.”

“ _I know_.” Jean hugged him close, with his head tucked beneath the tall bastard’s chin. “ _I suppose it’ll sink in eventually_.”

It would sink in as they went about the Nest without fear of running into Riko, even with Bren and the other bodyguards always around. It would sink in when they were out on the court and didn’t have to worry about his abuse even there. Neil knew it wouldn’t be easy for Jean, not when he’d suffered so much because of the prick for almost ten years, not when they were still Moriyama property and had to deal with Tetsuji… but it was a start.

No more fear of being ‘given’ to the upperclassmen. Considering what Ichirou had done to Federov, Neil felt it was safe to make that one assumption. They couldn’t leave the Moriyamas or step out of line, couldn’t be anything but the best (or the best to their ability) when it came to Exy, couldn’t turn down orders from the main branch or there would be ‘unpleasant’ consequences… but as long as they performed well and obeyed some simple rules, they (and the girls) should be all right.

Mostly all right.

Considering their lives up to that point? Neil was fine with ‘mostly all right’ and suspected that Jean was, too.

They slept almost twelve hours that night, worn down by the past week or so and groggy when they finally did wake up, and stumbled out of their room after brushing their teeth and getting dressed. There were messages on their phones from their friends who had left already, and the ones who had remained at the Nest walked around in a daze, just as thrown off as Neil and Jean by the extra sleep and what had happened last night.

There was a breakfast bar set up in the café, trays of hot oatmeal, fruit, whole wheat toast, hard boiled eggs and egg-white omelets, so everyone helped themselves; Neil grabbed a large bowl of oatmeal and fruit along with some tea, Jean several hard boiled eggs, some toast, fruit and coffee, while Quentin and Declan sighed about the omelets they stacked on their plates and had oatmeal as well.

“Can’t they put out some beans at least?” Declan complained. “They’re healthy.” He squinted at Neil who stirred the fruit into his oatmeal. “Could help put some weight on you, scrawny runt that you are.”

“I like him scrawny,” Quentin argued. “Less work that way – less to protect and less to carry when trouble comes.” He waved his slice of toast at Jean. “You’re stuck carrying the heavy one, I got dibs on the pint-sized one.”

Jean sneered at the man while Neil finished his mouthful of oatmeal. “Rather certain you’re gonna be carrying us at one point, aren’t you?”

Quentin gave him a harried look. “You’re a Hatford, so _yeah_. I’m surprised it took _that_ long for someone to try to bash your head in.”

“He does have a point,” Jean agreed while he nodded. “I never thought of your devilness being hereditary, but yes, those British genes. It makes sense.”

“That’s not even a word,” Neil gritted out as he threw a strawberry hull at the smug bastard. “And eat your damn breakfast.”

Declan and Quentin laughed at that then began to tell a few stories of how some of Neil’s cousins had to be ‘carried’ to either safety or away for their own good (Ally, who was about Neil’s age, seemed to need the most help out of the three). They stayed there for about an hour since there was no set schedule for the day, before Neil and Jean returned to their room to change into workout clothes.

Before they went to the exercise room, though, Neil checked his burner phone and answered a couple of texts from Andrew, which he’d been too tired to do the night before – that and he hadn’t been sure when his friend was supposed to start his ‘rehab’. The messages were along the lines of ‘hope you’re not dead yet’, so Neil replied back ‘not yet, have fun throwing up’.

He and Jean worked out for a couple of hours, mostly to give themselves something to do, and spent the rest of the day resting and watching a few old movies Jean had on his laptop from previous classes. It was much the same on Sunday, and Neil actually felt rested by Monday, when the Ravens, about half of them who hadn’t gone anywhere for break showed up on court before a grim-faced Tetsuji.

“It will be a challenging year moving forward,” their ‘Master’ said without preamble. “One without our esteemed captain, Riko. As of Saturday, he was admitted to a psychiatric hospital in Virginia.”

There were surprised murmurs at that, audible gasps and various denials, while Neil and Jean waited to hear whatever else Tetsuji had to say. Tetsuji was quiet for several seconds as if to wait until the importance of the announcement sunk in before he nodded and continued. “However, the Ravens were champions before he took his place as the team’s captain and starting striker, and you will continue on without him.”

That time the team’s reaction was more positive, was an agreement with their coach, and Neil added his voice to theirs while Jean nodded. “Moreau.” Jean stiffened upon hearing his name be called out. “You are now captain.”

Neil could tell that Jean was stunned by that decision, but it made sense to him; Jean was now the best player on the team and deserved the ‘3’ on his cheek, even if he didn’t care for Exy like the rest of the team. “I… thank you, Master,” Jean responded with a slight bow of his head.

“Your job is to lead this team to another victory,” Tetsuji ordered with a harsh bite to his deep voice. “Your new position is a duty, not a reward.”

“I understand.” Jean bowed his head again. “Josten will be my vice-captain.”

There were more murmurs at that, but Tetsuji nodded in agreement before ordering them to work on drills.

Tollis and Johnson were quick to stomp over to Jean while everyone else went to grab their racquets, with Lincoln at their heels. “Really? You’re going to make your little boyfriend the vice-captain?” Tollis complained with a bitter expression. “He’s a freshman!”

“Sophomore now,” Jean pointed out in a bored tone as they went to get their racquets so they could practice. “And higher ranked than you.”

“But-“

Jean whirled on her in a rare show of anger. “This isn’t up for debate! How many late night practices have you put in? How many other Ravens have you helped train?” When the striker shook her head, he waved her and the others off in disgust. “You’ll never make captain because you don’t give a damn about anyone but yourself, now go away.”

Neil gave her a slight smile while he followed his ‘captain’, and waited until they were working on their drills to speak, Declan leaning against the wall nearby and giving anyone who came close a dirty look to encourage them to go away. “ _Congratulations, I think_.”

Jean gave him a sour look. “ _I’m not entirely sure that it was done in my best interest_.” He gave a pointed glance over to where Tetsuji stood watching all of them.

“ _You are the best player on the team_ ,” Neil argued, only to shrug when Jean scoffed at that. “ _If he’s doing it as some sort of revenge, it’s going to backfire on him. He’s being watched_.”

“ _Why don’t I feel so much better now_?”

Neil knocked over a few cones while he wondered just what all he’d done to deserve his current life. It couldn’t have been _that_ bad, could it? “ _I don’t know, maybe stop being a sarcastic bitch for two seconds and you will_.”

Jean, esteemed captain that he was, gave him the finger.

They spent much of Monday doing drills and working out, as if Tetsuji was distracted and easing himself back into things. That or he had difficulty in dealing with the Ravens after so many years of seeing his nephew out on court, considering that Riko had grown up at the Nest.

Neil would feel sorry for the old bastard, if Ichirou hadn’t been right in that Tetsuji had broken Riko, had been largely responsible for his nephew growing up into a sadistic prick.

Tuesday they were back to scrimmaging, especially since Susan and some of the older Ravens, most of them upperclassmen now, started trickling back into the Nest. Many of them were happy about Jean being the new captain once they got over the news about Riko (they weren’t so much surprised about Riko’s mental breakdown as they were about him being committed, it seemed), and didn’t complain about Neil being made vice-captain (well, _most_ of them didn’t, unless they were part of ‘Riko’s clique’).

At some point in the week the news broke about Riko since reporters and university personnel descended on the Nest, which explained why Tetsuji had been so ‘hands off’ during practice. Neil and Jean got dragged into a few press conferences where they were asked questions about their ‘dear’ captain ( _former_ captain), to which they answered along the lines of they wished him the best and believed the stress of striving for perfection as an athlete and a student must have proven too much for him in the end. Neil lied through his teeth and said that he had no idea what had provoked the attack out on court that Friday night and that he hoped for Riko’s speedy recovery.

It was a relief when Marley returned on Sunday (especially since Neil’s Saturday calls with Andrew were on hold), bounding into their room with a couple of bags. “ _Captain_? Really!” She dumped the bags onto their bed and reached out to give Jean’s dark hair a quick tousle. “You gonna make the team talk in French now? Be all broody? Oooh, I know! You just wanted to be on equal footing as your Surfer Boy! That is _so_ romantic!”

Jean gave her a sour look for a couple of seconds. “Go away again, this time for longer.”

Marley laughed as she grabbed the nearest desk chair and dragged it over by the bed, while Neil began to investigate the bags. “Aw, you _love_ me, Crusty, you do. I bet you were going through withdrawals.”

“No, I wasn’t, it was so pleasant with you gone,” Jean insisted. “And what are these?”

“Mom sent some care packages.” Marley shrugged as Neil pulled out a multicolored quilt. “I think she’s going a bit stir-crazy without having to drive me to all those games and everything, and apparently she’s taken to quilting while she watches ours on T.V. I told her about how cold it is here so she made those for you.”

Neil touched the soft, brightly colored material and felt his cheeks grow warm. “Ah, thank you? Or her, I mean. It’s really… it’s a lot.” Beside him, Jean reached into the other bag to pull out a similar quilt, his expression thoughtful.

“Well, they weren’t ready by Christmas and then we found out that some secretive bastards had to be all sneaky about their birthdays,” Marley gave Neil and Jean a dark look over that, “so consider them belated presents and ‘congrats’ on being the captain and vice-captain. Janna told me when she picked me up at the airport.”

“Yeah.” Neil wrapped the quilt around his shoulders and smiled over at Jean. “Someone is just _so_ happy about it.”

“When isn’t he a happy little baguette?” Marley laughed when Jean threw a pillow at her; she caught it and hugged it to her chest. “How’s things going? Janna said Tetsuji’s been behaving himself, but all the press and university admins crawling around here might have something to do with that.”

Neil shrugged as his hands stroked along the soft fabric of the quilt. “That’s it, pretty much. Tollis, Johnson and Loiseau still act as if there’s a chance that Riko’s coming back, but for the most part, things are a little better now.” They’d have to wait and see what happened after things quieted down, though, to know if Tetsuji had really learned anything from losing Riko.

They spent some time listening to Marley tell them about her visit home – the friends stopping by to congratulate her on a successful season, all the amazing meals her dad made for her or her family treated her to in celebration, and of course the jars of spices she brought back to make the next few months bearable. Her parents weren’t happy that she was giving up most of the summer to devote to practice, but they’d caught a Portland Peregrine’s game during her visit and she’d been invited down to the court pre-game (along with her parents), and there had been talk about how great it would be to have a local on the team when she graduated.

It was rather difficult for her parents to argue with her devotion to Exy when there were signs that it held a successful future for her, that it was more than a childish obsession.

It felt good to have someone else Neil trusted out on the court, to have someone running at his side while paired off against Tollis and Engle (even if the fourth year senior wasn’t too bad without Riko there), someone to taunt Johnson and Loiseau as they darted around the backliners. Lincoln had taken to playing rough out on court, too, to targeting them more than any of the other strikers.

He didn’t know if someone was trying to impress Tetsuji or prove that Neil being the vice-captain was a mistake, but Neil wasn’t going to let a junior who barely got any court time give him grief after putting up with Riko last season.

Since a few of the upperclassmen had graduated – Federov, Bautista, Haley and Reacher, there were some open positions in the higher ranks. No one would be taking Riko’s ‘1’ number, obviously, but Tetsuji informed Marley at the end of one of their accelerated days that she was now number ‘18’.

Needless to say, Tollis went storming off into the women’s locker room, and Janna was certain to keep Marley in her sights the next day or two so the furious striker didn’t get any ideas which would let Neil know just how much of a ‘compromise’ had been worked out between Ichirou and Stuart in regards to the bodyguards now dealing with anyone who laid a hand on the four of them.

Meg was even more excited when she returned, bearing bags of coffee and tea for Neil and Jean from local stores around her home.  She’d spent her short summer break hanging out with her family and friends, claimed that things had gone great with Kenny and was proud of the couple of pounds she’d put on from her mother’s cooking; “it’s not like they’re going to stick around, right? Back to practice tomorrow.”

“Yep, and you have a lot of catching up to do, ‘32’,” Marley teased, only to be shoved onto her side and tickled.

Meg was more than a little smug when she was informed that she had been bumped up to ‘26’ at practice the next day, in response to her hard work, skill out on the court the last few games and in anticipation of the new freshmen due to arrive in a couple of weeks. She was even more energetic at the daily practices and didn’t seem as upset about leaving her family that time, about being unable to see them again until November when she would be playing more often in the games come late August.

However, Neil and Jean only had to put up with that for a ‘day’ or two before they left for New York City, just as Ichirou had informed Neil after the championship game. Bren went with them while the other bodyguards remained to watch over the girls, so they could take part in fall marketing campaigns not only for Brine Racquets but ASICS and Adidas as well.

They were to spend four nights at the Lowell hotel while they went to the various photography studios about the city, and Neil couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the now familiar fruit basket waiting for them in the suite upon their arrival. The first night it was just him and Jean and Bren in the spacious suite, with Jean once again taking advantage of the espresso machine (Neil just managed to hold back on the comment that Knox had serious competition from the device) and the two of them flipping a coin to see who got to soak in the tub first, then they sat down to a very nice dinner courtesy of room service.

“Okay, so it’s not football but I’m liking this fancy stickball of yours,” Bren proclaimed as he cut into his very large serving of prime rib, while Neil enjoyed a spicy pasta with shrimp and Jean a chicken with cream sauce.

Neil felt a stab of… of _something_ at that remark, which reminded him of Andrew – he hoped that his friend was doing all right and that the ‘lazy goth’ was able to call him soon. He sent the occasional text just to keep Andrew up to date, but it wasn’t the same.

Meanwhile, Jean sneered at Bren after enjoying a sip of his wine. “You _like_ being so lazy, I think.”

“Says a guy who spent an hour sitting on his ass while surrounded by bubbles earlier and is gonna be pursing his lips at a camera the next couple of days,” Bren shot back. “Yeah, great work ethic there, I almost forgot you were French.”

Neil grinned as he ate his pasta. “Wow, there’s a show with dinner, how nice.”

“This is all your fault,” Jean accused as he grabbed the bottle of wine to refill his glass. “Everything was nice and free of British oafs until _you_ came along.”

“You’re welcome,” Neil told him before he picked up a piece of shrimp and let it dangle between his lips for a moment while flipping it up and down.

Jean’s lovely grey eyes narrowed for a moment before he grabbed his knife with his right hand. “The world will thank me for cutting out that devil tongue of yours.”

“Unfortunately, he’s my top priority here,” Bren reminded Jean. “Do me a favor and save the maiming attempts until _after_ dinner, okay? I hate it when work interrupts a good meal like this.”

“Fine, I’ll just smother him in his sleep,” Jean decided while he shrugged and went back to his own dinner.

“Works for me, gives me a few hours to get outta here before Stuart finds out.”

Neil made a rude gesture toward both of them before grabbing his plate so he could go eat in the kitchen, where there weren’t any snarky bastards.

The next morning they left for the photo shoot at Brine Racquets, their new line for the fall. There were more ridiculous poses like the last time of him and Jean together, as well as ones of them separate. Neil supposed that with Riko gone, the company needed more pictures of the two of them and seemed to work them harder than before.

When Leah approached them at the end of a very long day about going out, Bren was quick to intervene and say that they needed to return to the hotel. The marketing director appeared upset about that, but Neil gave the enforcer a grateful smile on their way to the SUV.

“Are you our agent now?” Jean asked as he climbed into the backseat next to Neil.

“I’m whatever Stuart tells me to be, and he said to take you there and get you back to the hotel in one piece.” Bren paused before pulling out in traffic to turn around to look at them. “Did you want to go out and hit a club?”

“No.” Neil and Jean were quick to turn down the offer.

“I didn’t think so.”

As it was, Ichirou had checked into the hotel at some point that day, so Neil only had time to take a quick shower and change into the outfit which had arrived for him (dress slacks and a button down shirt) before one of Ichirou’s men led him up to the penthouse.

“Nathaniel, you look well,” Ichirou greeted him. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” Neil told him with a slight smile. “Things are getting busy with summer practice and it sinking in for everyone that Riko’s gone. Once the freshmen arrive it’ll only get worse, but it’s better than last year.” Neil refused to dwell much on what he’d gone through around this time last year. “How are you?”

“Rather busy myself, as people seem to realize that while I am my father’s son, I’m not him and I’m serious about implementing changes to the organization.”

Neil thought that would have been evident when Ichirou replaced Nathan Wesninski with the Hatfords, wiping out most of his father’s organization in one swift blow, but he supposed that crime syndicates could be resistant to change. “They’ll learn soon enough.”

“Yes, they will.” Ichirou smiled before pulling him in for a slow, deep kiss, and their night went the way that Neil had come to expect of them; they talked a little while Ichirou enjoyed a drink or two before they sat down to a very nice dinner. They talked a little more after they finished their meal, and then Ichirou led Neil to the main bedroom, where Neil found himself bracing less for what was about to happen than just… in a way to just _allowing_ it happen. Soon enough it would be over, would be Ichirou kissing him on the forehead and him allowed to leave, body tired and aching but without any real pain.

Ichirou toyed with the medallion hanging around Neil’s neck before he kissed Neil first on the lips and then the forehead. “I see you’re still wearing it.”

“Well, I had debated pawning it for a new racquet, but I seem to have enough of them right now,” Neil teased as he sat up, and had to stifle a yawn while Ichirou gave him a cool look.

“I’m beginning to better understand all those complaints about you possessing a smart mouth,” Ichirou remarked as he got up to fetch a robe.

“Well, you could always tell me to be quiet and see if it takes, _my lord_.” Neil smiled a little as he wrapped his arms around his bent knees.

That earned him another cool look from Ichirou before the Moriyama lord leaned over the bed to slide the fingers of his right hand through Neil’s hair and pulled him forward. “I believe there’s more fun ways to teach you manners,” he said before giving Neil a kiss just shy of harsh.

“ _Yes, my lord_ ,” Neil managed to stutter out when they broke apart.

“Try to behave for the next couple of days, Nathaniel. There’s only so much even _this_ city can take.” Ichirou gave him a pleased smile before he went to grab his phone from where he’d set it aside on the dresser earlier, then stepped out onto the balcony, leaving Neil to dress himself and leave for the night.

Jean was waiting in the main room for him, busy watching some movie with Bren, and brought in a cup of herbal tea to the bathroom while Neil was soaking in the tub. “Your uncle will be having dinner with us tomorrow.”

“That’ll be nice.” For a moment Neil felt the urge to submerge himself beneath the hot water, to slide down until it covered his head and just stay beneath its surface – everything felt so far away and quiet underwater, felt as if one was in another world. Sometimes he needed a break from _this_ world so very much. Instead, he forced himself to accept the mug from his partner and otherwise remain still. “Do you….”

“Do I what?” Jean shifted to sit down on the floor next to the tub, his gaze fixed on Neil. “What is it?”

Neil focused _his_ attention on the steam rising from the water surrounding him. “Do you… have you ever wanted anyone?” He wasn’t quite sure what he meant to ask or how to say it. “I mean… I can’t figure out _why_. It doesn’t feel bad… but….” He gave up and shook his head, his face heated from more than the bath. “Sorry.”

Jean was quiet for about a minute while Neil sipped his tea, his thoughts skittering onto Ichirou and his mother yelling at him to not trust anyone, to never let anyone close and hitting him for looking at girls and then Andrew for some reason. At one point Jean reached out to lightly run his fingers through Neil’s wet hair, which startled him and broke up those thoughts, but made him smile and settle a little lower in the water. “ _I had wondered about you_ ,” Jean admitted in a soft voice. “ _If you were interested in anyone_.”

Neil shook his head. “No.”

“ _I see_. _Marley made a comment in that regard one day, but_ ….” Jean shrugged and continued to comb through Neil’s hair. “ _There has been… one or two people I **could** want_ ,” he admitted. “ _But I’m not sure it’s for us, to be honest. We’re not free to pursue such things so it’ll only lead to heartbreak_.” He gave a sad laugh as he seemed to consider something. “ _But then, who in their right mind would want someone so broken anyway_?”

Neil reached up with his left hand to loosely wrap it around his partner’s wrist. “ _That’s why us broken people will stick together_.” As long as Jean needed him, he’d be there.

Jean leaned forward to rest his head against Neil’s. “ _Of course I’m stuck with a devil like you_.” They remained like that for about a minute. “ _Don’t be in there much longer, we have another long day tomorrow_ ,” he scolded as he stood up.

“ _Just a few more minutes_ ,” Neil promised, determined to enjoy a proper bath as much as he could. He finished the tea and let his mind drift for just a little while, until Jean called out his name from the bedroom, and forced himself to climb out.

They had the photo shoot for Adidas the next day, and it was just as bad as Brine Racquets; they had a lot of outfit changes since Adidas supplied the Ravens’ uniforms and equipment, but at least they were offered various ‘freebies’ at the end of it to take back for the girls and their friends. Stuart was waiting for them in the suite when they returned, and gave Neil a big hug upon seeing him.

His uncle didn’t talk about Ichirou at all, which was fine with Neil; he didn’t think it was so much an attempt to avoid discussing business as just an unwillingness to talk about Ichirou _and_ Neil. Stuart might not be entirely happy about Neil’s arrangement with his employer… but it kept Jean and the girls safe, and that was something that Neil would never regret.

One thing Stuart would talk about, however, was Riko. The bastard was at the Southward Psychiatric Hospital and drugged out of his mind, to remain that way for the next few months. “It’ll wait until the new season is underway and you’re winning games,” Stuart explained. “When there’s some positive news to outweigh anything negative associated with his death.”

“That gives me even more incentive to make the next season better than the last,” Neil said as he pushed his empty dinner plate aside.

“Yeah, thought you’d be happy to hear that. Try to remember to look a little sad when the news breaks,” Stuart told him.

“I’ll wait three whole days to throw a damn party,” Neil promised.

Bren reached over to pour more wine into Stuart’s glass when Neil’s uncle took to muttering something along the lines of ‘dammit, Mary’ beneath his breath.

The third day it was off across Manhattan to spend several hours with ASICS, who provided the shoes for the Ravens. It was a more active shoot than the other two, with them running and jumping about, until even Neil felt a bit ridiculous and out of breath. But he was quite happy to get a few pairs of shoes out of it, and Marley and Meg sent several emoji-heavy texts back when he asked them about their shoe sizes.

His good mood lasted until he got back to the hotel and found an invite from Ichirou waiting for him. Neil supposed he should have expected it with Ichirou’s ‘couple of days’ comment, that and Stuart’s mood the night before, but he’d hoped to just relax in the nice suite another night before they returned back to Edgar Allan the next day. Instead, he put on yet another new outfit and returned to the penthouse.

That evening, Ichirou seemed a bit distant, his side of the conversation lagging while they had some pasta with lobster, which Neil found a little too rich for his tastes but did his best to eat despite the tense air. When Ichirou tugged him closer after they left their neglected desserts behind, Neil felt a little wary about the man’s mood but didn’t tense up until the fingers in his hair clenched a little too tight and the mouth against his pressed a bit too hard.

Ichirou stopped after a couple of seconds and pulled away to go pour two glasses of whiskeys. “Is… is everything all right?” Neil dared to ask.

It was quiet until Ichirou returned with their drinks. “Just some of those people who can’t seem to grasp that I’m not my father,” he explained as he held out one of the glasses to Neil.

“Ah.” Neil accepted it and took a sip. “I only know what it’s like to have people look at me and see my father.”

For the first time that evening, a slight smile crept across Ichirou’s lips. “That is something I can say has never occurred to me.” That time, his fingers were gentle in Neil’s hair.

“Uhm… good?” Neil managed a wavering smile of his own before he finished his drink. “I don’t… nice weather today?”

“Not very smooth,” Ichirou pointed out as his smile strengthened. “But yes, it was rather pleasant today, weather-wise. Did you enjoy your photo shoots?”

Neil glanced at Ichirou and then his empty glass. “Ah… yes, very nice weather today.”

“Duly noted.” Ichirou’s tone was rather dry just then. “Your suffering is appreciated.”

“Yet you’ll gladly throw me to the wolves again and again, yes?” Neil gave him a bitter look for a moment before rolling his eyes. “Truly appreciated.”

“It’s always so nice when people understand their place.” Neil stilled at that, at the hidden warning behind the words, yet Ichirou’s smile was still amused and his hand gentle as it cupped Neil’s cheek.

They talked a little more, Ichirou’s good mood apparently restored, before Neil was kissed again, that time with the usual care that didn’t leave him tense and about to flinch. When everything was over, Ichirou told Neil that they’d see each other soon and to continue to do well.

Neil smiled when Jean brought him a cup of tea while he soaked in the bathtub, and listened to his friend complain about how Bren watched soccer games all night before they went to bed.

They had a leisurely breakfast the next morning and then had the ‘fun’ of packing everything their new sponsors had given them before going to the airport, and soon enough were back at the Nest. Marley and Meg were delighted with all of their ‘presents’, and there was plenty left over for Susan, Sophie, Amy and Naomi, too.

The trip was a short break in their summer training, where Tetsuji slowly returned to his old habits; he wasn’t quite as strict as before, as quick to break out the cane… but he still used it whenever he felt one of the Ravens wasn’t living up to their potential or letting the others down. He did hold back in regards to Jean, Neil and the girls, mindful of Bren and the other bodyguards, but he also didn’t have much cause to use it on them after all of the hours they put in on the court, after how hard they worked to improve their game.

It was an exhaustive daze of constant practice and shortened days and court and workouts and sleep and back out on the court which even wreaked havoc with the enforcers’ schedules. Neil barely kept track of the ‘real’ days due to his Sunday calls with Stuart, all too aware of the lack of Andrew, of the games of truth on Saturday and the teasing jokes.

Ichirou stopped by twice to Evermore and there was one follow-up visit to New York for a night to do some ‘touch-up’ photos for Adidas. Neil was growing used to the fact that Ichirou would never be out of his life for long, that there would be Exy and school and Ichirou all entwined.

The new Ravens appeared one day, which alerted Neil to the fact that it was that late in the summer season already (that Andrew should be approaching the end of his detox soon, since the start of the Foxes’ practice shouldn’t be too far off as well). There were two new backliners, a new goalkeeper, a new striker and a new dealer. Neil was a bit surprised by all of the new freshmen, even though he understood that there were several upperclassmen graduating at the end of the school year, including Susan, Johnson, and Sophie.

The Ravens were gathered on court as Tetsuji introduced the freshmen: Philip Cobb (sub striker, 31), Jordon Ellis (sub backliner 32), Ethan Garcia (sub goalkeeper 33), Teresa Fields (sub offensive dealer 34), Brian Lee (sub backliner 35). Neil stood next to Jean as Tetsuji called out their names and numbers, mindful to watch the others’ reactions to the new players.

Most of them were distant but polite and gave them a nod, aware that the rookies would have to prove themselves, would have to earn their eventual spot on the line and way up the in the rank. However a few of them – Johnson, Tollis, Loiseau, and to Neil’s surprise Dixon and Lincoln, gave them cold looks.

Riko’s ‘influence’ still lingered at the Nest, even though he’d been gone for weeks. It lingered in the sneers directed Jean’s way when he stepped forward to introduce himself as the team’s captain, in the considering stares which followed the new Ravens as they were paired (Ellis and Lee, Cobb and Garcia… and Fields with Meg). As Jean had predicted, Marley had finally moved beyond Meg’s reach and been paired with Naomi since Haley had graduated, though Neil had to wonder if there hadn’t been an ulterior motive of some sort behind splitting up the two girls.

“It’s gonna make things tricky until Stuart finds someone to help out down here,” Bren said as the four of them sat together for lunch with him and Quentin. “The old man should have given us some sort of heads up.”

“Yeah, because he’s all about consideration for others,” Neil drawled while he mushed about the kale on his plate. “I wanna be just like him when I grow up.”

“You’ll never _grow_ up if you don’t eat that,” Jean told him as he grabbed Neil’s left hand and slowly forced him to pick up a droopy mess of the detested greens. Meanwhile, the rookies were gawking at them from two tables over – they appeared fascinated by Bren and Quentin as well as whatever Neil and Jean did for some reason.

“Bren, don’t let him touch the damn coffee machine next time, okay, no more- _gah_!” Neil struggled past the urge to spit out the awful kale while Jean gloated, the bastard; he hadn’t been force-fed in _years_ , not since that terrible weekend in Amsterdam when he’d suffered with a fever and his-

“ _You’re despicable_ ,” he muttered as he wiped at his face and fought the urge to scrub his tongue clean as well.

“ _Just helping you to set a good example for the children_ ,” Jean said, the smug grin still on his face as he cut his chicken into small pieces.

“ _Yes, I’ll be certain to show them the best way to murder an overbearing French asshole_.”

“There _has_ to be a list of people wanting to join in on this fun, right?” Marley asked Bren while Meg tried to be sneaky ( _tried_ , which she never really had gotten any better at over the year) and eat the rest of Neil’s damn kale before Jean caught on.

Bren laughed at that while Quentin grinned and nodded. “There _may_ be comments about us enjoying ourselves too much despite the lousy food and crazy hours.” Bren grimaced as he held up his last bite of chicken. “Seriously, what do these people have against chips?”

“Eh, I’ve already lost a kilo or two so maybe it’s good?” Quentin shrugged as he leaned back in his chair. “Now all I need is to figure out why you can’t just kick the ball, yeah?”

Neil managed to dump the rest of the kale into his napkin while Marley, Meg and Jean yelled at the enforcer.

He sent a text to Andrew before he went to bed that night, just a short note to say ‘how much can a short bastard like you throw up?’, before he sighed and tucked the phone away.

“ _Still nothing_?” Jean asked as he leaned against his desk.

“No.” Neil frowned as he thought about the date, about how it was now the start of June and the Foxes should begin their official training for the new season in another week or so. Andrew had told him that he’d be done with rehab by then so had something gone wrong? Had there been complications? “ _How long does it take to deal with withdrawal_?” he asked his partner. The only thing Neil knew about drugs was the little he’d seen of his father’s business as a child and then while on the run – that had dealt with the being addicted part, not the getting clean.

He’d seen enough to never want to touch the stuff, to not even want to drink, really, other than a few sips upon occasion with others (or when he needed it to dull the pain of wounds). The minor pain pills Jean kept stashed away were more than enough to keep on hand for emergencies, and Neil was grateful that neither of them had to take any in a couple of months.

“ _I don’t know_ ,” Jean admitted, his expression guarded. “ _Perhaps something has come up_?”

Or perhaps… perhaps Andrew had decided that Neil wasn’t worth the aggravation anymore. Perhaps he’d heard about Riko being locked up and realized that Neil didn’t have any value to him any longer, that the main threat against Kevin was gone so why keep exchanging truths? Why deal with someone who couldn’t even tell him the truth half the time, who’d turned him down and probably offended him back in Palmetto at the end of April.

All of a sudden Jean was there in front of Neil, his expression now worried as he lightly cupped Neil’s face between his large, calloused hands. “ _Hey_.” He waited until Neil looked up to him. “ _Perhaps something came up_ ,” he repeated in a quiet voice.

“ _Maybe, or perhaps he’s off in Columbia enjoying the last bit of his break before he has to return to campus_ ,” Neil admitted as an odd coldness spread throughout his body, one much more biting than what he’d felt when dealing with Ichirou. It made him want to curl up in a small ball and just… just not _feel_. “ _There’s no reason why he **has** to call me_.”

Jean closed his eyes for some reason then let out a slow breath before he opened them and gazed at Neil. “ _No, but the stubborn gargoyle **has** called you all these weeks, so I think he’ll continue to do so. Just give him time, it’s not easy what he’s gone through_.”

Neil tilted his head to the right and smiled a little when Jean rubbed his cheek. “ _Okay_.”

“ _Now get some rest because tomorrow I’m making you work with the rookies on their drills_ ,” Jean told him with small yet pleased smile.

“ _Yet you call **me** a devil_ ,” Neil complained as he shoved his cruel bastard of a partner away.

The freshmen were… they were a mess. Neil knew that he’d been raw and inexperienced when he’d arrived late last April, had needed every bit of patience that Jean had shown him and all of those extra hours out on the court. He knew that Marley and Meg had come a long way in the past year, too… but after the morning practice with that year’s freshmen, he couldn’t help but look up at the East Tower in the faint hope that Ichirou was there to invite him up and offer a glass of whiskey at any moment.

Marley and Jean took some pity on him (well, more Marley, while Jean sighed when Neil mouthed ‘captain’ at him) and remained out on court while everyone else went off to the showers (Meg had promised to call her parents and would rejoin her new partner in a little while, with Quentin following her while Bren stayed out on court with the rest of them). “Ellis, your aim is off too far to the right,” Neil called out to the tall backliner. “Stop lowering your shoulder so much when you swing.”

“Yuh-yes, sir!” the kid stuttered, a hint of a blush overcoming his dark complexion as he stood up as straight as possible; beside Neil, Marley sniggered a little, probably over his manners, and even Bren could be heard huffing from his seat on the inner court.

“Lee, you’re not putting enough power behind your swings,” Neil told the much shorter backliner, for a moment reminded of Andrew’s brother. “You’re not going to get far through these drills until you work on that – power _and_ precision.”

“Yeah.” He stood up straighter, too. “Yes, sir!”

Neil rolled his eyes a little at that but he didn’t correct either of the kids, not when Tetsuji would smack them for any sign of disrespect. “Cobb, you need to work on the precision part. You’re not going to move on to the next one until you can knock these down in any order we call out, _one_ at a time.”

Cobb had the grace to look embarrassed at the criticism; he was built stocky enough to be a good backliner, but the little Neil had seen of him, he had enough speed to justify being a striker. “I’m sorry, I’ll work on that.”

As soon as Neil turned toward Garcia, the kid gave him an easy-going smile. “I know, I know, precision, yes? I’m used to just throwing the ball down the court, these drills are tricky.”

“They’re only going to become more difficult, so get used to it,” Neil warned him. “But yes, you need to work on your aim.” Tetsuji wasn’t going to let any Raven, even a goalie, get by with ‘just throwing balls down the court’.

That left Fields, who looked as if she was waiting to be torn apart with the way she clutched her racquet between her hands and had such a blank look on her face. She wasn’t as tall as Marley but she was on the slender side as well, with her dark brown hair cut just long enough to be pulled back during practice. “You need to build up some power behind your throws, too,” Neil told her. “Marley can help with that.”

Fields seemed surprised when he didn’t say anything else. “Ah… that’s it?”

“Well, you’re a bit too slow between shots, but I’m hoping that’s you being new to the drill and all,” Marley added. “We’ll give you and the others a couple more days before we kick your asses over that.”

Cobb and Lee appeared a bit offended over the remark, while Ellis nodded, Garcia grinned and Fields first blinked a couple of times before she nodded. “Move faster, I got it,” she told Marley. “Faster and more force.”

“You won’t be out on court for a game until you master all of these drills,” Jean informed them. “All Ravens are required to know them to the Master’s satisfaction, so learning them will be your life for the next few months. Ma puce can tell you all about it, and how her dedication paid off.”

The rookies appeared confused about what – or who – he was talking about until they noticed Marley’s huge grin. “Neil learned them faster than me, and I’m sure it’s the same for the rest of the Perfect Court. Now let’s see if any of you can come _close_ to my record.” It was clear from the derision in her voice that she doubted it would happen.

It was also clear that she was enjoying no longer being a freshmen, in being so low-ranked.

“ _Let’s hope we didn’t create a monster_ ,” Neil remarked as Marley lined up the rookies so they could take turns on the first drill.

“ _What is this ‘we’_?” Jean asked with a loud scoff. “ _You take **all** of the blame when it comes to **her**_.”

“ _I seem to take all of the blame regardless_ ,” Neil mused.

“ _It’s because you’re a de_ -“

Just then Naomi came running onto the court with Sophie and Amy behind her. “Jean! Neil!” She was panting by the time she reached them, and Bren was quick to join them out on the court. “Uhm… is something going on with your… ah, friends?” She gave a pointed look to Bren before she glanced back at the two of them.

“What the hell? Something up with Quentin?” Bren demanded while the rookies paused in their drills to group together.

Naomi shook her head as she bent over as if to catch her breath. “I was headed to Soph’s and Amy’s room and I saw Sean go into Meg’s. Quentin wasn’t around so we came to get you.”

“ _Fuck_.” Bren was moving as soon as Naomi mentioned Sean and Meg, with Neil, Jean and Meg throwing their racquets aside as they ran with him. He yanked his phone out of his pocket while also throwing his arm out to prevent Neil from running ahead. “I will _smack_ you down, you fast little shit! Behind me!” he barked out before yelling Quentin’s name into the phone.

Jean pulled Neil back and then Marley. “ _Let him get there first_.”

“ _But Meg_ -!”

“ _It’s his job_ ,” Jean argued, his face set with something fierce. “ _He breaks them for us_.”

Neil didn’t bothering arguing because at that point, they’d reached Meg’s new room; Bren threw his considerable weight at the door while at the same time tossing the phone over his shoulder, which Neil just managed to catch before it hit the floor.

The door burst right open and Bren stumbled inside with the three of them right behind him (and the upperclassmen behind them), to find Meg crying on the bed as she attempted to shove Lincoln off of her. Neil caught the sight of his dear friend’s bruised face, of her torn shirt, of Lincoln’s raised hand as he attempted to hit her again, of him straddling her-

And then Bren was across the room and picking up the backliner seconds later, did something to make him cry out and then threw him aside as if he weighed nothing. Lincoln cried out again, tried to get his hands up as if a shield but Bren was there to grab him and hold him up against the wall until his feet dangled in the air.

“You never should have touched her, you fucker,” Bren ground out, his voice barely more than a growl and his hands fisted so tight in Lincoln’s black t-shirt that the backliner began to choke.

Meanwhile, Marley had rushed to the bed to wrap her arms around a sobbing Meg while Neil stood there in shock, his body heavy as if weighed down and the sensation of numbness spreading through his limbs. He didn’t react when Sophie, Amy and Naomi crept in to go help Marley, when Lincoln made an awful sound, when there were hushed voices out in the hallway - only when the phone in his hand rang.

Jerked into motion by the noise, he realized that Jean had wrapped an arm around his shoulders and gave his partner a grateful smile as he raised the phone and recognized the name on the screen. “Bren.” He had to call out his friend’s name again. “Bren! It’s Quentin!”

At that point, Bren was leaning over a wailing Lincoln, who was slumped on the floor. “Eh?” Bren spun around, his broad face twisted in anger, and blinked when Neil held up the ringing phone. “Okay!” He was quick to come over but was gentle when he took the phone from Neil’s hand. “Where the _fuck_ are you?”

There sounded to be furious shouting on the other end and a good bit of swearing, but Neil thought he picked up the word ‘Akagi’. While the two enforcers exchanged curses, Neil noticed that Nakamura poked his head into the room, paled at what he saw and quickly fled.

Meanwhile, Jean gave Neil’s shoulders a quick squeeze before he stepped toward the door. “Enough, go back to your rooms,” he told everyone – then he reached out to grab someone’s arm. “Except you.” He pulled a surprised Tollis into the room then did his best to close the door; Bren had damaged the door knob when he’d forced it open rather than just twisting it, but perhaps he’d been worried that Lincoln had tried to rig it shut somehow.

“But I-“ Her eyes went wide when she took in a crying Lincoln bent over himself (Neil suspected that Bren had broken his right arm and maybe some ribs), and a bruised Meg on the bed trying hard to stifle her own sobs. “Oh god, what happened here? Meg? Is Meg all right?”

Neil had grown up amidst liars and thieves, had been trained to lie by one of the best – his own mother. As soon as he could speak he’d been twisting the truth (‘I’m all right’, ‘I fell down the stairs’, ‘I didn’t see anything’, ‘my father never hurt me’), had learned quickly to parse lies from the truth so he could have some faint hope in knowing who to trust (mostly trust… _somewhat_ trust). So he watched Tollis closely at that moment and as little as he trusted her since he knew she was willing to do almost anything to become the Ravens’ new starting striker (had been molded that way by Tetsuji and Riko in large part)… he knew that she wasn’t lying right then.

“No,” Neil told her before he went over to the bed, but stopped short because he didn’t want to upset his friend. Yet Meg gave him a weak smile, the left side of her face swollen and growing more bruised by the moment. “I’m… I’m sorry.”

“No,” she told him, the words a little slurred because of the tears and her split lip. “No, it’s my fault.” While she talked, Jean came over and once again wrapped his arms around Neil’s upper chest, a warm presence against Neil’s back which helped him to keep everything together. “Quentin tol’ me to stay in the room, tha’ he’d be back, and then Sean came an’ asked for a spare charger. I went to get it an’-“ Her face twisted with something- remembered pain or fear, maybe – and she resumed crying while Marley and Sophie held her between them.

Neil gave a pointed look to Tollis, who was quick to shake her head. “No, _no_! I didn’t know anything about this, I swear to you!” She held up her hands and took a step away. “Kick her ass out on court, yeah! A fight between just her and me? That’s fair, too. But you think I’d be behind this when-“ She caught herself and shook her head, her anger dying out as she shivered and rubbed her hands up and down her arms. “I wouldn’t be part of _this_.”

No, Neil supposed she wouldn’t, all things considered. “Let your _friends_ know that if I find out anything like this is planned for the rookies or anyone else? Federov won’t be the only one with a ruined career.” He waited until Tollis gave him a shocked look and a quick nod, then motioned for her to leave.

Bren ended the call and joined them by the bed. “Quentin said Akagi told him there was something funny with the security system and asked for his help, then tried to knock him out when they were alone. He was busy beating the shit out of the fucker when I tried to call and has him-“ He glanced at the upperclassmen and shook his head. “He’s gonna take him when the others show up. They’ll be here soon.”

Meaning that Stuart was about to be involved in everything. “Okay.” If Akagi was part of this… chances were good that Tetsuji was involved somehow, too.

Neil hated how he kept remembering now that Lincoln had been hanging out with Riko a lot, those weeks before the championship game. Had it meant something? Was there something Neil could have done to prevent today? Something to keep Meg safe?

Nakamura returned and argued with Bren to take Lincoln away, clearly under orders from Tetsuji to retrieve the backliner. Neil thought it was more and more likely that their ‘Master’ was involved in things somehow, that he was either re-exerting his power or doing what he could to break Neil and Jean.

Back in their room while Marley and the upperclassmen looked after Meg, Jean had to agree with him. “ _He showed no sign of assigning Marley to a new partner at all last year, and they’ve a good partnership between them, her and Meg. And why bring in a new dealer this year when there’s already so many of them? Best to wait another year when the rookie will be less likely to sit on the bench so much, now that we have several strong players_ ,” Jean argued. “ _We’d be best served with two goalkeepers, considering that Susan is graduating this year and Ren is still developing_.”

“ _That and Akagi wouldn’t have dared raise a hand against someone from the main branch unless given orders_.” Neil sat on the bed and chewed on a hangnail as he thought about everything. “ _Akagi **or** Lincoln. Neither of them are the type to act out on impulse_.” He might not have spent much time talking to Lincoln since he was a backliner and low-ranked, but Neil had seen him enough out on the court to have a feel for the junior. Lincoln was too tentative, too reliant on orders which was why he remained low-ranked and a target for both of the Moriyamas’ abuse.

They ended up skipping lunch and the afternoon (or what passed for it since they were back on the sixteen hour schedule) practice appeared to have been cancelled. Neil had received a short call from his uncle telling him to not to go anywhere without Bren or Stuart would come down to Charleston to personally smack some sense into him, and only the fact that Neil knew his uncle was worried about him kept him from hanging up mid-threat. Even so, it left him even more anxious and out of sorts.

Jean led him back to the bed after he put the phone aside, where they sat down, and when Neil didn’t pull away, wrapped a quilt around him and left his arms loose around Neil’s upper chest. “ _This isn’t your fault_.”

“ _Isn’t it_?” Neil shivered as he closed his eyes and slumped against his partner. “ _They should have attacked me, should have… Meg is too innocent_.”

“ _Which was why they chose her_ ,” Jean argued, his voice soft as he ran his hand over Neil’s hair; they’d changed out of their uniforms then grabbed quick showers, and Neil hadn’t bothered to do much more than run a towel over his hair once or twice. _“They know by now that you don’t break easily, and there’s Ichirou to consider. So they went after Meg, who… well, she’s never been as aware as she should be about certain things_.”

That didn’t mean she deserved what had happened that day, not that Neil thought that Jean meant to imply it just then. But the truth was that he’d always believed that Meg wasn’t meant to be a Raven, that she lacked a certain ruthlessness, only for it to end up that she’d lacked a proper sense of self-preservation.

“ _Do you think they broke her_?” he asked as he hugged the quilt tighter around himself in an effort to stave off the cold.

Jean was quiet for about a minute before he sighed. “ _I think we’ll know soon enough.”_

They were out grabbing something warm to drink when Marley texted them to come to Meg’s room, where it was just the two girls with a stern Janna standing outside. Meg had been cleaned up a little, her hair brushed and pulled back in a ponytail, some ice applied to her face to help with the bruising and a new outfit – something baggy and soft and not Ravens’ colors.

“Hey,” Neil told her as he sat down on the opposite bed with Jean beside him; someone had cleaned up the room as well and fixed the door. “You look like you’re trying to be me or something.”

Meg’s lips twitched at that and then she shook her head. “Don’t. Don’t make me laugh, okay? Everything hurts too much.”

“Yeah, I know how that goes.” Neil tugged on the left cuff of his sweatshirt and felt a dark impulse just then, felt a bit of anger at Bren for taking care of Lincoln so thoroughly that he’d never got the opportunity to pull out his knife and hurt the bastard. “Do you want some pills? We have some that should help, if you didn’t get anything.”

Meg shook her head again, her right hand clenched around Marley’s left as their friend sat there as an obvious source of support for her; Neil wondered if Fields was staying with Naomi for the time being. “No, that’s… I don’t want anything right now. Nothing like that. It’s hard enough-“ She took a deep, shuddering breath as she gazed at him and Jean. “How do you do it?” she asked as tears slid down her cheeks once more. “I mean… all those times after Riko hurt you, how did you get up and go out there again? How did you look at him?”

“Mon lapin,” Jean said, his deep voice hoarse with pain. “We won’t let that monster near you again.”

“I don’t… he told….” Meg sniffed as she fought back the tears. “I just wanna play Exy and now I don’t know if I can go out there an’… and deal with them.”

Neil knew what she meant, even if it appeared that Lincoln had been stopped before he’d been able to do much to Meg. He knew what it felt like to be out on court or in the Nest’s dark hallways, surrounded by people you couldn’t trust, to deal with them every day and wonder when you were going to be hurt again.

He’d grown up that way, had dealt with pain and abuse as part of life, but Meg hadn’t. “Do you want to go home?” he asked. “You don’t have to be here for training.” He’d get Ichirou to back him on that even if he had to spend every damn night up in the East Tower, every weekend in New York City.

Meg hiccupped a couple of times and wiped her face on her right sleeve as she first thought about that then shook her head. “No, Mom would… I can’t lie to her, especially lookin’ like this. She’d find out and she’d never let me come back.”

“But you still want to play,” Neil asked, just to be sure of things.

“Yeah, just not....” Meg’s blue eyes grew watery again. “I don’t know.”

Neil glanced at Jean who gave him a puzzled look. “Then where do you want to go?” Neil asked as he ignored the pain that the question caused inside of his chest, the pain of knowing that he was about to lose someone he cared about from his own actions – or inactions. “USC? Penn State?” He thought about Andrew and the one psychiatrist his friend had mentioned. “PSU?”

“Wait, what?” Meg stopped crying again while both Marley and Jean stared at him as if he was insane. “What do you mean? Go away? But my scholarship!”

“If you can’t stay here but you still want to play, then you leave, it’s that simple.” Day had done it, after all, and Andrew had tried to do it for Neil.

“But she has a contract,” Marley said in a slow manner, as if pointing out something that should be more than obvious to Neil. “Four more years here.”

“My parents can’t buy it out!” Meg sounded panicked at the thought. “And I still want to play.” For the first time since the incident, a hint of resolve began to creep through the pain. “I’m not giving it up, or my scholarship.”

“You let me worry about the contract, it won’t be a problem, or another scholarship,” Neil assured her while Jean took to cursing beneath his breath in French. “Just tell me where you’re going, if you don’t feel safe here.”

Meg joined in on the whole ‘you’re crazy’ thing for a few seconds… and then she gave him a wobbly smile. “Palmetto State.”

“USC is a much better choice,” Jean argued, his voice rough and an odd color to his cheeks. “Its program is nearly as good and-“

“Palmetto,” Meg repeated with some of that returned resolve. “Kenny’s there, and so are Dan and Renee. It won’t be so bad if I already have friends there.” She leaned against Marley. “I mean, I don’t want to leave you guys.”

“It’s up to you Meg, to either stay or go. I’ll give you some time to decide, okay?” Neil stood up so he could leave, and was surprised when Meg got up as well to give him a hug, her movements a little slow.

“ _Thank you_ ,” she told him. “You’re always looking out for us. You’re incredible.”

Neil couldn’t say anything to that, not when she was bruised and nearly broken because of him, so he gave her a wan smile and fled the room.

Jean and Bren dragged him off to the café to eat after that, with Jean questioning him about his offer. “What did I say about you giving up too many pieces of yourself?”

Neil shook his head. “No, this should fall under the whole protection deal.”

“ _Should_.” Jean threw down his fork in disgust. “Not only a devil but a stupid one at that.”

Bren appeared thoughtful as he ate his double serving of broiled fish. “I don’t know, I think he’s right on this one. Just gotta spin it real good.”

“Of course you British oafs stick together.”

“Because we’re stuck fighting wars by ourselves after you weak French surrender,” Neil pointed out, and got Jean’s serving of spinach dumped on his plate for his little history lesson.

There was a message from Ichirou on his phone when they returned to the room telling Neil to be careful and expressing sympathies in regards to Meg. Neil responded back ‘thank you and I will, take care of yourself’ and left it at that for the time being, until he knew if he’d be asking something of the man or not.

Both he and Jean had a rather fitful night’s sleep, all things considered, and he looked forward to being able to forget things for a while out on the court. Tetsuji didn’t say anything about Meg’s or Lincoln’s absences and was quick to smack his cane against the wooden floor at any chatting from the players, preventing talk about the day before while everyone practiced their drills or took part in scrimmages. Neil could tell that the freshmen were more than curious about what was going on, but it was best that they learned sooner rather than later to keep quiet about things and focus on their game.

Meg made her decision two (stressful) days later; Neil didn’t know if she tried to come out for the afternoon practice that day or just wanted out of the room for a while, but according to Fields, she had a panic attack once she was out in the hallway. She’d had some bad nights as well, and after talking to Marley and some of the other upperclassmen….

She told Neil that evening that she wanted to transfer to PSU. “I think I need a fresh start,” she told him, her eyes red from crying. “Between this and never being able to go home for breaks, I just don’t think I can stay here anymore. Not even with you guys helping me out.”

“It’s fine,” Neil assured her even as he hated the thought of her going away. “I’ll talk to Tetsuji and work it out, see if we can’t get you to Palmetto in the next day or two. That’ll give you some time to settle in before they start their training session. Just figure out what you’re going to tell your parents.”

Meg sniffed a little as she smiled, her demeanor one of relief now that she’d made the decision. “They’ll be ecstatic once I tell them I’ll be able to spend more time at home for holidays again, especially my mom. I don’t think they care which school I’m at, as long as I get a decent education and I’m happy.”

Neil left her with Marley, Naomi and Fields (who would need a new partner soon) to start packing her things while he and Jean returned to their room. “Did you get Wymack’s number?” he asked Bren.

“Yeah, I’ll send it to you now.”

First Neil left a message for Ichirou, and only had to wait half an hour for the return call. “Nathaniel, I do hope this isn’t about something unpleasant,” Ichirou said by way of greeting. “Has something happened? Are you all right?”

“Yes and no. It’s in regards to what happened the other day with Meg Curtis,” Neil explained. “I’m fine, thank you, but she’s not doing well.”

“Ah.” Ichirou was quiet for a moment while something was poured in the background. “Akagi has been dealt with already, he proved rather stubborn in giving up my uncle, a commendable show of loyalty which earned him being made an example. My understanding is that Sean Lincoln is still being treated at Evermore?”

It took Neil a moment to realize that Ichirou thought that he wanted revenge on the men responsible for Meg, which… well, he wouldn’t object, not really, but not the point of the call. “I’m not going to complain if you do something about them, but what I’m asking for right now is to transfer Meg from Edgar Allan to PSU,” he explained. “She doesn’t feel safe here anymore, not after what happened.”

“And how is that going to look?” Ichirou asked, sounding more curious than anything. “Why PSU?”

“Because her boyfriend is there, as well as some other players she’s friends with, so there’s a connection. It makes more sense than USC or another rival school.” Neil had worked out the story with Jean already, had tried to ‘spin’ it as best he could. “If people ask, we tell them it’s part of the changes that are being made after Riko’s breakdown – that Meg is a promising player who’s not handling the pressures of the program very well, the intensity and demands of it, and rather than risk her having a breakdown as well, Tetsuji has decided to allow her to transfer out without penalty.”

Ichirou was quiet save for a slight sipping sound and then cleared his throat. “Very clever, Nathaniel. Two conditions – there will be no mention of why she really transferred.”

“Of course. That’s another benefit of her going to the Foxes,” Neil said. Wymack would be well aware of keeping his mouth shut because of the power behind the Moriyamas.

“The other is that Lincoln’s dismissal from the team will have to be delayed. It will cause questions if two Ravens leave at the same time,” Ichirou pointed out.

Neil hesitated only for a moment before he sighed. “He’ll need to be kept away from the rest of the team if he stays here. I don’t trust him near anyone.”

“Something will be worked out, it’s more the announcement of his dismissal which can’t happen for the near future.” Ichirou paused for another sip of whatever he was drinking. “And now I get to look forward to another delightful conversation with my uncle. Suddenly my day has improved.”

“ _You’re welcome, my lord_.”

Ichirou clicked his tongue as if amused. “Call me when you’re done arranging things with Wymack. I assume that you’ll want Curtis out of Evermore as quickly as possible?”

“Yes,” Neil agreed.

“One of the planes will be available for you to use, fly her down but be back in the same day,” Ichirou offered. “And Nathaniel? It should go without saying that I don’t trust my uncle, especially if he’s throwing away his men like this. If I find out that you’ve gone anywhere without one of your uncle’s people by your side? I won’t be pleased.”

“ _I understand, my lord_ ,” Neil breathed out in Japanese, left unsettled by the thought of Ichirou’s ‘displeasure’. “ _And thank you for your generosity_.”

“Call me once the arrangements have been made,” Ichirou repeated before hanging up.

Neil held on to the phone for a moment before he looked at Jean. “That… went well?”

“It depends on what happens when you call him back.” Jean had been right next to him for the call so he could listen in, but he didn’t appear as worried as usual. “But… yes, at least there’s no talk of payment _this_ time.”

Not that there was much left for Neil to give, but he didn’t want to think about that when he had another call to make. Neil pulled up the number that Bren had sent him and waited for Wymack to answer his phone.

“Yeah? Who is this?” Wymack’s voice was deep and gruff and more than a little suspicious, since Bren had given Neil his private phone number.

“Neil Josten.”

Wymack grunted in surprise at the answer. “All right, didn’t see that coming. What do you want? Don’t you talk to Andrew? He’s busy with Kevin right now, out on the court.”

Neil’s chest seized upon hearing that, his breath catching in his throat and hand almost dropping the phone when he realized that Andrew was done with his rehab and apparently fine – and not talking to him. “Ah… no,” he forced himself to say while Jean ran a soothing hand up and down his back. “No, I called to speak to you.”

“All right.” The suspicion was even stronger in the coach’s voice. “About what? Kevin? Is Tetsuji coming after Kevin again?”

“No.” Neil took a deep breath and forced it out, along with all thoughts of Andrew out of his head. “This will go a lot faster if you stop talking about Day.”

Wymack huffed and there was the sound of a lighter clicking on the other end. “Sorry, just trying to figure out why one of the Ravens’ star players and a kid who turned me down is calling me.”

“Because I have another player for you,” Neil gritted out. “If you’ll shut the hell up and _listen_.” Wymack was working on his already frayed nerves – Neil didn’t like dealing with the man, with any older man he didn’t know very well, but Meg had picked the Foxes and Wymack was supposedly a good coach.

There was quiet on the line while Wymack seemed to light a cigarette and let out a slow exhale. “Another player? Another _Raven_? Are they… Riko’s gone now, what the _hell_ happened? Who is it?” he demanded to know, his deep voice low but furious.

“It’s Meg Curtis,” Neil explained. “And yes, Riko’s gone, but… look, she got roughed up and she doesn’t want to stay here anymore, she _can’t_ stay here.” There was only so much he was willing to say when it was Meg, when it involved her and it wasn’t his place. “She has friends on your team, people she trusts and she needs that right now.”

“Roughed up?” Wymack asked. “Roughed up _how_?” Neil didn’t answer that. “Just how badly was she hurt?” When Neil remained quiet, there was the sound of something hitting a hard surface and cursing for a good minute.

“What the fuck is going on there, huh? How can you bastards-“

Neil raised his voice to end the tirade. “This isn’t about the Ravens,” he cut off a furious Wymack. “This is about _Meg_. She can _still_ play. She _wants_ to play. For some reason she wants to play on your wretched team. Are you going to take her or not? I need to know if it’s a ‘yes’ or else I have calls to make to other teams.”

Wymack finally shut up and appeared to struggle to control his temper, judging from the sound of his breathing, while Jean murmured about ‘old hot-heads’ next to Neil’s left ear. “What about her contract? I can’t afford to buy out two Ravens.” The man sounded guilty about that, of all things.

“It’s already been taken care of,” Neil told him. “Meg transfers to you free and clear of Edgar Allan, all you need to do is sign her on for the remainder of her university career and treat her well. I’ll be watching, Wymack.”

“How the hell?” There was another sound of a long inhale from the cigarette. “Kid… what the _hell_ is going on there? How did you pull this off?” Wymack sounded confused and more than a little wary.

Good, let him be very wary of Neil – it meant that Meg would be looked after at PSU. “Irrelevant. All that matters is Meg. Now, here’s what’s going to happen to gain your team a player who’s better than they deserve.”

He spent the next twenty minutes working out the details with Wymack, doing his best not to think about Andrew and how he was sending one of his (too) few good friends away.

*******

Andrew stared at his phone as he lay stretched out on the bench with his head pillowed on his left arm, the only sound in the almost empty stadium that of Kevin knocking over cones while he practiced with his racquet held in his left hand. The Exy addict was working hard in preparation of summer practice starting up in about a week, of the new freshmen arriving and the Foxes facing the Ravens sans Riko.

Even in the worst throes of withdrawal, back in that first week at Bee’s, Andrew had realized that something was wrong, had picked up on a panicked Kevin stumbling into the house to seek out Bee while she, with Abby’s help, had dealt with Andrew finally coming off of the meds. Andrew had refused to go to Easthaven or any of the other medical institutes that Bee had suggested, done with being locked up, done dealing with strange doctors and psychiatrists… just done with the system. It had worked for Aaron and Boyd, right? It would work for him.

He might have been a little ‘optimistic’ in that regard, but he’d gotten through it. In a way, finding out about Riko’s ‘minor’ mental snap had helped as it gave him something to focus on other than the horrific aches throughout his body and the near-constant vomiting burning his throat raw and the terrible headaches which felt to be splitting his head in half. Oh, and the alternating chills and hot flashes, leaving him drenched with sweat one moment and then freezing the next, going through sweatshirts like crazy and-

Distractions had been good, and Kevin’s near breakdown over the fact that his ex-partner had finally been hauled away for being the insane prick that he was had been one of the best. It gave Andrew something to focus on during the worst of the rehab as the drug worked its way through his system… leaving an increasing numbness in its wake.

Bee told him that it was an after-effect of the meds, of being on an artificial emotional high for so long. That Andrew just needed some time to ‘recalibrate’ and he’d be all right eventually. As if Andrew had ever been ‘all right’.

No, it was as he’d suspected – he was too hollowed out by everything, by being forced to feel fake emotions for too long, by having his anger muzzled by a chemical leash and jerked about by unwanted feelings he’d suffered because he had no choice.

(Of having to give up too many pieces of himself for others, of breaking off too many parts of himself to survive all those different hells over the years.)

Now the drugs were gone from his system and he was empty, and it ‘felt’… it was all right. He’d rather feel nothing than what he’d dealt with before walking into Bee’s house and sequestering himself in her one spare bedroom. After years of pain and disappointment and broken hopes, ‘nothing’ was more than all right. He knew where he stood with ‘nothing’ after all, because that was all he’d ever gotten out of life (for giving up those pieces, for surviving those hells). He wanted nothing and had nothing to show for it after twenty years of (not quite) living.

He had a brother who couldn’t honor his promises, an Exy junkie who seemed to think that he could solve Andrew’s ‘problems’ through stupid stickball, and was stuck with a team of rejects who were about to grow in number in about a week.

Despite all the withdrawal symptoms, it had almost been pleasant, locked away in Bee’s house for almost a month.

Bee worried about him rushing things, but the drug was through his system and he was physically all right, had been keeping everything down for over a week and sleeping regularly. She wasn’t pleased with the accelerated schedule of everything, but she knew him well enough that when he set his mind to something, it would happen. He’d needed to be back on his feet by the end of May so Kevin was able to face the new Foxes with his ‘security blanket’ at his side, especially with Riko now gone.

It wasn’t like he was heading back to Columbia, so she didn’t have anything to worry about when he was at Abby’s when not at the Foxhole Court with Kevin. Abby kept a watchful eye on him, along with an even more overbearing Nicky, to the point that Andrew looked forward to being able to return the dorms soon.

Though that meant he’d be in even closer quarters with Aaron, which wasn’t a good thing. _Someone_ was counting down the days to the official start of the semester to resume their ‘joint’ sessions with Bee, after Bee had declared that the summer was devoted to Andrew recovering from the meds. _Someone_ was in for a rude awakening, since Andrew wasn’t in the mood to deal with Aaron’s refusal to accept the fact that a certain pom-pom waving whore was off-limits.

He couldn’t even work up a proper sense of anger over the fact, just… just weary resignation. The same weary resignation he felt for so many things anymore.

Almost everything.

Which was why as he lay there waiting for Kevin to grow bored with knocking over cones eventually, Andrew stared at the pictures on his phone which Renee had sent him, some previews of a new ASICS campaign, and tried to figure out why his heart was racing and he felt so warm all of a sudden.

Well, he sort of knew _why_ – the image he currently stared at was of Neil Josten running, long legs left bare since he was wearing a pair of ( _small_ ) black running shorts, his black and red shirt flipped up the slightest bit to show a peek of muscled abdomen, damp hair slicked back from his face to show off those brilliant eyes and the ‘4’ tattoo on his cheek.

(There was something about shoes to the whole thing, Andrew was certain. Not that he cared in the slightest. Or ever looked that low.)

It was the most emotion Andrew had felt since Bee had declared the rehab a success, the most emotion Andrew had felt in a couple of weeks… and it all had to do with a certain little birdy. He didn’t feel anything remotely like it when he looked at Kevin or any of the other images he could pull up on his phone or laptop, when he thought about Roland, when he drove around or went out on an errand. No, _these_ emotions only existed when he pulled up the old texts that Neil had sent him in the past month or so to check up on him, when he looked at a certain Instagram account, when he thought about the redhead.

 _Dammit_.

It was… Neil was an improbable thing, a pipedream far out of reach, an after-effect of the drugs. Andrew was supposed to be over him now, supposed to be _better_. Feel a bit of concern for the little birdy because of what was happening at Evermore, but that was _it_. The infatuation was supposed to end.

It wasn’t supposed to get worse, to be the one bright emotion inside of Andrew; like a full moon hanging heavy in a night sky, casting its inexorable pull on the tides of his blood and throwing light on things he’d much prefer to remain hidden in the dark.

He hadn’t called Neil back, hadn’t kept that promise ( _yet_ , he told himself, hadn’t called yet, so it wasn’t broken) because if it was _this_ bad just seeing Neil’s image and reading those texts… he didn’t want to know how it would be hearing his little bird’s voice. In knowing that Neil was tired and worn down by something he couldn’t fix, in hearing that mask of mockery and laughter attempting to hide the pain beneath.

Andrew had spent much of his life fucked over by one thing or another, this would just be the first time he’d be fucked over by a pretty face and a broken soul and his own traitorous heart (by something he couldn’t run away from).

He forced himself to put his phone away, at least until he received a text from Nicky reminding him about dinner (Abby had made buffalo chicken macaroni and cheese, one of her better dishes, and sure to upset a certain diet fanatic). Feeling hungry and bored, he got up and pounded on the door to make Kevin put an end to practice for the day, and headed into the locker room as soon as Kevin gathered up all of his shit.

While Kevin showered, Andrew noticed that Wymack was still in his office, which was unusual for the man to be there that late in the day. He seemed to be talking to someone, so Andrew went to stand in the doorway to the man’s office to see what was going on since it was better than waiting around bored for Kevin.

Wymack’s eyed narrowed at him while he continued to talk on the phone. “-really appreciate it, Vin, since I know it’s last minute and all.” He paused and nodded along to whatever the person on the other end of the phone was saying. “Yeah, they don’t have to be the biggest rooms since there’ll be two each in them, we just need the extra one.” Another pause and a relieved smile spread across Wymack’s face. “That’ll be great. I owe you one, man. A case of that snooty stout shit you drink, how about that?” He laughed but the sound was off to Andrew, was missing the usual depth of Wymack’s humor. “Tell me when and you’ve got it.”

He hung up the phone and gave Andrew a narrow look. “There a reason you’re eavesdropping, you rude little shit?”

Andrew gestured to the doorway around him by way of an answer. “Another room, Coach?” he asked.

“Good night, Minyard. The court better not be a mess,” Wymack told him as he grabbed a couple of folders and put them in a drawer before locking up his desk, a clear sign that he wasn’t going to answer the question.

Andrew stared at him for a few more seconds before giving a two-fingered salute and leaving, deciding that he couldn’t be bothered – not when he’d find out in a few more days. Besides, he was hungry.

Except Abby was distracted by something when they reached her house, was all nervous smiles and left the four of them to fend for themselves as she departed in a hurry, not even giving clear instructions on who was supposed to do the dishes or clear the table, for once. Andrew watched her leave before he helped himself to dinner, while Kevin appeared torn between being indignant about so much carbs and dairy and worried about the nurse.

As always, Nicky proved the source of gossip. “She got a call earlier from Wymack, about an hour or two ago,” he said between bites of the dish. “I don’t know about what, because she took it in her bedroom after a couple of minutes, but whatever it was about, she was upset.”

“Problem with one of the newbies?” Aaron pondered. “Another suicide attempt like Smalls?”

Kevin scowled upon hearing that. “It shouldn’t be, they’re much more stable, this bunch.” Then he shrugged. “Well, you know what I mean.”

‘Stable’ for Foxes, in other words.

“Maybe it’s about Seth?” Nicky offered. “I know they were really unhappy about how he stormed off when he found out he flunked, and no one’s heard from him since.”

Ah yes, how sad about Gordon – except Andrew hadn’t felt bad for the loser even before coming off of his meds. He doubted that was it, though, since Wymack had been arranging something with the dorm rooms and Gordon wasn’t eligible to stay at Fox Tower anymore. Aaron might be on to something about one of the freshmen already fucking up… but he didn’t care, not really.

All that mattered was that Abby was gone, so Nicky got stuck taking care of the dishes while Andrew grabbed a bottle of whiskey and split it with Aaron and Kevin.

He checked his phone before going to bed, but there wasn’t any new text from Neil (there hadn’t been one in the last couple of days), and there wasn’t any from Renee despite the fact that Andrew had answered one of hers earlier in the day. He stared at the ‘unread’ message for a couple of seconds before he decided that Reynolds must be keeping Renee occupied and went to bed.

Abby was already gone when Andrew and Kevin finally got out of bed the next day, which wasn’t that unusual, but her being at the stadium when they arrived so Kevin could waste his day smacking balls around? That was, since she usually spent the summer days before practice started up helping out at the clinic on campus. As was the unusually grave expression on Wymack’s face when they walked into the lounge.

“Can’t you take a break today?” he asked Kevin. “Maybe go out to the Excites store and check out some new gear? I’ll even give you the p-card.”

Kevin frowned at that while Andrew, all of a sudden suspicious about the calls and the two’s behavior, flopped down on the one couch. “No, I’m a bit behind and I want to practice. I can go out later tonight or tomorrow,” Kevin insisted. “I want out on court today.”

Wymack sighed and shook his head. “Let’s try this again – today would be a very good day for you to be elsewhere, all right?”

Kevin appeared at first confused and then hurt by those words. “But… did I mess up or something?”

Abby was quick to reach out and give his left arm a reassuring rub. “Oh no, honey, it’s not you. There’s just something going on today, something David and I need to handle and it’s best if you’re not here for it.”

While Kevin’s anxiety lessened at that, Andrew settled himself even more in the couch, which earned him a baleful look from Wymack. “That means you, too, you damn midget. Get up and get out of here.” When all Andrew did was give him a blank look in return, Wymack’s dark eyes narrowed. “Move. Now.”

“David!” Abby shot him a displeased look before she offered Andrew a nervous smile. “Why don’t you go out for coffee and donuts or something? You can-“

She was cut off by Wilds storming through the door, dressed in PSU sweats and hauling a large piece of luggage behind her. “Is anyone else here yet? Tell me they’re not here yet!” She wasn’t wearing any make-up and had a harried air to her, which didn’t calm down even when Wymack shook his head and Abby gave her a smile. “Allison told me her and Renee’s flight should get here soon but I didn’t want to wait too long so I came straight from the airport.”

“No, you’re the first one in,” Wymack told her as he held out his arms to give her a quick hug, while Kevin looked on in confusion and Andrew leaned forward a little; so Wymack wanted him and Kevin gone but the upperclassmen were arriving early and allowed to stay? Oh, he had a feeling it was story time. “Did you bring Matt?”

“No, he wanted to come but we talked and agreed that it was best for him to stick around with his mom a little longer.” She pulled away and seemed to realize that Kevin and Andrew were in the room. “Ah… what are you guys doing here?”

“They were just leaving,” Wymack said in that voice of his which he thought made it sound like he was in charge.

“No, we’re not,” Andrew told him as his hands wrapped around his opposite forearms, around the comforting weight of his armbands. “Because something’s going on with your merry little band of rejects and I want to know what it is.” He wasn’t going to leave until he knew for certain that it wasn’t going to affect Kevin and Aaron and Nicky, and commenced a staring contest with the old man.

“You didn’t tell them?” Wilds asked as she set her luggage aside.

“No, because they weren’t supposed to be here, dammit!” Wymack yelled as he threw his arms up in the air and looked aside. “Nothing’s going on – nothing bad,” he tried to argue. “So get your grumpy asses out of here, okay?”

“Why are Wilds, Reynolds and Renee back so early?” Andrew asked. “Why the extra room? One of your newbies self-destructing already?” Were they going to be a danger to one of his own?

Wymack swiped a hand over his grizzled hair and seemed to be praying for patience already, while Kevin demanded to know if they were at risk of losing a freshman. Count on the addict to worry about his precious line for the new season.

“No, dammit!” Wymack glared at them both. “Look, we’re getting another Fox, okay? A transfer.” His gaze lingered a little too long on Kevin while he spoke, which made something click inside of Andrew’s head.

“Where is this ‘transfer’ from?” He jumped to his feet and took a couple of steps to place himself in front of Wymack, just out of the man’s reach. “Another Raven?” Was it Neil? Had he finally come to his senses? But why hadn’t Neil reached out to-

“Yes,” Wymack said, which made Andrew’s heart race so much that he felt dizzy for a moment.

“Who?” Andrew’s hands itched to grab hold of Wymack’s stupid PSU t-shirt and shake the answer out of him. “Who is it?”

“Meg Curtis.” It took a moment for Andrew to realize that wasn’t _Neil’s_ name, and the strength of disappointment that washed through him made the breath catch in his throat. “Defensive dealer and a sophomore.”

“Wait, she’s joining the team?” Kevin sounded excited about the prospect. “But how? She’s actually got a lot of promise! Why did Tetsuji let her go?”

Wymack’s expression grew shuttered as he shook his head. “All you need to know is she’s joining the team, all right? Dan and the others are here to help get her settled in.” His expression became stern when it seemed as if Kevin had more questions. “No, _no_! I know that look, Day, and you’re leaving her alone until practice officially starts. Josten’s bringing her today so she gets a chance to rest before becoming a Fox, not so you have a buddy to do your fancy drills.”

Andrew didn’t pay attention to Kevin whining about finally having someone who _could_ do those stupid drills, not when Wymack had mentioned _Neil’s_ name. That Neil was coming with Curtis.

It made sense, he supposed, since Curtis was one of Neil’s friends, was one of the ones around him all the time (not as much as Patel, but almost). Curtis had told Renee that Neil looked after her, that she was all right because of Neil.

Neil told Andrew he couldn’t accept the offer to stay at PSU, to allow Andrew to protect him, because he had people of his own to protect.

So what had happened to Curtis? What had Neil done to get a Raven ‘with a lot of promise’ out of an Edgar Allan contract?

“We’re staying,” he told Wymack as he sat back down. “Kevin _will_ behave himself.” He gave the addict a cold look until Kevin sighed and said something about watching videos if he couldn’t practice.

Wymack regarded Andrew for several seconds before he shook his head. “Josten should be here with Meg in less than an hour.” When Andrew didn’t respond to that, he shook his head. “I’m not paid enough for this,” he grumbled as he got up and went over to where Wilds and Abby were huddled together and talking.

Renee and Reynolds showed up about twenty minutes later, and after sharing hugs with Abby and Wilds, Renee came over to perch on the edge of the couch where Andrew was sitting. “You look… well, you look all right,” Renee said in a quiet voice with a concerned expression.

Andrew didn’t give a damn about how he ‘looked’ right then. “Curtis,” he said as he folded his arms over his chest. “What’s going on?”

“And I missed you, too,” Renee sighed as she tucked back a lock of her hair, the ends freshly dyed in rainbow colors. “What I can tell you is yesterday I received several different messages – from Meg, Marley, Dan and Coach. All of them had to do about Meg transferring here.”

“Why?”

Renee shook her head. “I can’t exactly tell you that, just that she doesn’t want to stay there any longer.”

Andrew thought about that, thought about Neil and the bruises and went still. “Because of what they do there,” he said through gritted teeth with a low burn of anger inside of him.

That time, Renee hesitated a moment before shaking her head. “Not… not exactly, and that’s all I’ll say.” She was quiet as she tugged on the sleeves of the loosely knit white sweater she wore over a pink tank dress. “Something happened and Neil’s getting her out of Edgar Allan, that’s what I know for certain, what even Marley will tell me.” There was a hint of a sad smile on her face. “Along with several threats on how Dan and I better look out for her.”

So ‘something’ had happened, something to bring together the upperclassmen, and Neil had somehow pulled enough strings to free another Raven from the Nest. Granted, Curtis wasn’t property or Perfect Court, but Neil _was_ , so how had he managed it? Andrew pondered that while Renee returned to Reynolds’ side and Wymack told the upperclassmen how he’d finagled another dorm room, which apparently Wilds would share with Curtis.

Around 1pm, Wymack got a call from security about his guests arriving, and he left to go fetch Neil and Curtis while Andrew rose to his feet, an unwelcome sense of anxiety building inside of him while he waited. He refused to allow himself to fidget with his armbands and was about to have a cigarette when Wymack returned not only with Neil and Curtis, but Patel, Moreau and the one bodyguard as well.

Andrew idly noted the bruises on Curtis’ face, but the majority of his attention was reserved for Neil, for the blankness on _that_ gorgeous face, the way was his little bird was dressed in dark jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt with the hood pulled over his head as if to hide his appearance (all of it expensive looking), the shadows beneath his eyes and the way he met Andrew’s gaze for a few seconds before pointedly looking away.

Andrew then noticed the glare Moreau was giving him as if he could will death with a look alone, before he turned his attention back to Curtis; she looked as if someone had beat the shit out of her and was crying while Wilds and Renee hugged her, mumbling about it being all right. Wymack stood off to the side with his hands clenched into fists as if ready to beat up someone if given a target, and Abby had pulled on that brave face of hers she used when she was upset as hell at another Fox appearing all battered and bruised.

“Wymack,” Neil called out, his voice as blank as his expression.

“Yeah, kid?” Wymack forced his attention away from Curtis and the upperclassmen and went to approach Neil, only to stop short when the bodyguard, Bren, stepped in his way. “What?”

“That’s close enough,” the guy told him while Neil reached into the messenger bag hanging from his left shoulder.

For a moment it appeared as if Wymack was going to argue, until Neil spoke up. “Here’s a copy of Meg’s former contract, marked null and void, just in case anyone tries to cause problems in the future.”

Kevin, who had been staying on the fringes of the room once Neil had arrived, stepped forward as Bren handed the contract to Wymack. “Just how did you get Tetsuji to agree to that? She’s one of the better dealers the Ravens have recruited in years.”

Neil directed a cold look Kevin’s way then seemed to dismiss him. “We’ll stay to see Meg signed then we’ll leave. We were careful coming in so hopefully no one will realize she’s here until-“

“ _Dammit, don’t ignore me, Na-Neil_!” Kevin snapped in French – one of the few good things about all that time mostly alone at Bee’s while recovering from withdrawal was that Andrew had concentrated on his French lessons. “ _How did you do this? You don’t have any power, any_ -“

Neil gave Kevin a look of pure disgust, one shared by Moreau. “ _Don’t **ever** mistake me for being like you, Day_ ,” he said in a deceptively quiet voice which made Renee break away from the others and come stand next to Andrew, her hands loose at her sides. “ _We’re not all pathetic cowards who stand by and do nothing, who let Riko and Tetsuji get away with everything_ -“

“ _I didn’t_ -“

“ _You did_ ,” Neil spat as he cut off Kevin’s protests. “ _You did and you ran away, so nothing that happens at the Nest or with the Ravens concerns you **ever** again_. _You’re a Fox now_.”

“ _Try your arrogant Perfect Court shit on Meg and you’ll regret it_ ,” Moreau added as he sneered at a stunned Kevin. “ _Certain secrets might finally come to light which I think you’ve been keeping much too long, no_?” He gave a pointed look to Wymack for a moment, which made Kevin’s eyes go even wider before he shook his head in a frantic manner.

“ _No! You can’t do that, you_ -“

“ _We can do whatever we want, so don’t be an ass for once in your life_ ,” Moreau demanded while Patel left the group by Curtis and took her place at Neil’s left side.

“ _Threats without me? No fun_.” She sulked a little before joining in on the whole glaring at Kevin thing.

“Are you done yet?” Andrew asked, unwilling to reveal that he’d understood what had all been said (he owed Neil for holding back on the German for a couple of months); he’d figure out a way to get the truth out of Kevin about that ‘secret’ later on. “I didn’t think you came all the way here just to insult Kevin.”

“We’re good at multitasking,” Neil said, one of his usual snarky comebacks but without the wry tone or cocky grin.

For a moment Andrew almost let it go, almost decided it was best to ignore everything and let Neil just walk away, to do his best to deny everything he’d felt upon seeing the young man walk into the lounge… but he’d had enough of it. Enough of Neil’s strange behavior, enough of trying to figure out what was going on, enough of damn emotions twisting up inside of him.

“ _What’s your problem_?” he asked in German while staring directly at Neil.

Neil started at the question then shook his head. “ _Nothing_.”

“ _I think not, what’s going on? Why are you leaving Meg here_?”

Now Neil showed a spark of anger. “ _None of your business. Go back to ignoring me_ ,” he said while Moreau and Patel turned their glares on Andrew.

Ah, was someone upset that Andrew hadn’t called him yet? For some reason that eased a bit of the tension inside of Andrew and made him approach his little bird. “ _Come here, we need to ta_ -“ He found himself blocked by the damn bodyguard. “Go away,” he warned as his right hand went for his left armguard, and noticed that Renee had stepped forward as well.

“You guys down here don’t listen well, do you?” Bren said while he followed the motion of Andrew’s hand. “Stay the fuck away from him before I-“

“It’s okay, Bren.” Neil reached around to pat him on the arm. “Let us talk, it’ll be easier.” He nodded to Moreau and Patel. “Go make sure everything’s all right with Meg and the new contract? Bren’ll stay here with me.”

Moreau hesitated for a moment before he nodded to the bodyguard. “No arms, just break the ugly gargoyle’s neck if he causes any problems.”

“Long as you help me get rid of the body,” Bren told him, which made Patel laugh as the two Ravens went to join the others in the office. Andrew gave Kevin and Renee a pointed look to make them leave as well, with Renee nodding before she did.

As soon as they were alone (besides the annoying bodyguard), Andrew folded his arms across his chest and returned his attention back to Neil. “ _How did you manage this_?”

“ _How many times do I have to tell you that it’s none of your business_?” Neil answered as he leaned against the couch; it looked as if he was short on sleep, but with the hood now resting on his shoulders, Andrew didn’t see any bruises or signs of makeup on his face or neck.

“ _And I told you that I wanted answers the next time we talked_.”

Neil gave him a frosty sliver of a smile while the bodyguard hovered nearby. “ _You told me you wanted answers the next time you **called**_.” He motioned around them. “ _This isn’t a call_.”

Clever as always. “ _I… it’s only been a few days since I left Bee’s_ ,” Andrew admitted as he fought the urge to reach out and tuck back the bangs falling onto Neil’s face. “ _It’s taking a little longer for me to… adjust than I thought. I planned on calling once practice started up_.”

Neil was quiet after that, his expression blank at first and then indecision crept in while he chewed on his bottom lip. “ _Really_?”

Again, Andrew felt some ridiculous urge to move forward and touch Neil, to reassure him in some way – he’d never wanted to do that with another person, to be so _physical_. Any other time he wanted to get further _away_ from people, to ensure that they _couldn’t_ touch him, unless explicitly on his terms.

“ _Yes_ ,” he said. “ _I don’t lie_.” When Neil smiled at that, small but genuine and devastating enough to make Andrew’s heart thunder against his ribcage, he clicked his tongue. “ _You owe me a turn now_.”

“ _What! But… since when we were taking a turn_?” Now Neil was pouting, which for some damn reason didn’t do Andrew’s poor heart any favors, not with the way Neil’s full lower lip jutted out.

“ _Since I say, so tell me how you’re able to do all this – transfer Curtis and have a bodyguard_.” He glanced at Bren before giving Neil a steady look. “ _I’m going to keep asking_.” He needed to know that Neil wasn’t in danger from Tetsuji, wasn’t walking back into harm after leaving the Nest, that there wasn’t a good reason for Bren being so protective.

Neil wrapped his arms around himself and took to chewing on his lower lip again, a tell which Andrew realized meant he was uncertain or thinking about something, which the bodyguard seemed to realize as well since he reached out to give Neil a light pat on the shoulder. “You okay? Do I need to snap the runt’s neck?”

“Ah, no?” When the burly man made to move forward, Neil waved his hands in the air and shook his head. “No, _no_! It’s fine. Sheesh, snap happy lately, Bren?” he accused the man with a frown while Andrew nearly went for a knife.

“Just lookin’ after you,” Bren grumbled while giving Andrew a suspicious look.

“I’m fine,” Neil told him while giving him a quick touch on the arm; Andrew found himself gritting his teeth at those words. “Relax and we’ll stop for some chips on the way back to the airport.”

For some reason that made the bodyguard appear happy, though he resumed scowling at Andrew soon enough. As for Neil, he sighed and ran his hand through his hair, which tousled the auburn strands even more. “ _Ah… how to explain this_ ,” he said as he looked at Andrew. “ _It’s because… I fall under the main house now, okay? I don’t answer to Tetsuji anymore_.”

Andrew considered that, along with Bren’s looming presence and the whole ‘Riko can’t touch me’ thing. “ _It’s not much of an explanation_.”

“ _It’s all I can really tell you_.” Neil shrugged as he once more wrapped his arms around his middle. “ _You’re too used to Day, who speaks about things he shouldn’t_.”

Unlike a little birdy who hoarded secrets much like others kept precious items… but then again, Neil had grown up in _that_ world, hadn’t he? Grown up in it with his father, Nathan Wesninski, and his mother, Mary Hatford. Hadn’t Kevin said something about her being from some British crime family? Did that have something to do with Neil all of a sudden ‘belonging’ to the main branch?

“ _So you basically dump another Raven on me, someone who’ll make Kevin even more annoying to deal with, and leave me with more questions than answers_ ,” Andrew summed up.

Neil gave a slight shrug. “ _Sorry_?” He neither sounded nor looked as if he was in the slightest.

Andrew stared at him, at the improbable liar (except when he wasn’t, except when Andrew asked for the truth from him) with the clearest, palest blue eyes Andrew had ever seen, with that face which Andrew couldn’t get out of his mind, perfect even with that horrid ‘4’ tattoo, that lean body hunched over in a defensive position….

He stared at the one person who made him _feel_ so much, made his heart race when they weren’t even touching, made Andrew want to gather him close and shelter him from… from _everything_. “ _I hate you_ ,” Andrew declared, because it was the truth. He hated so very much how Neil made him feel, when he was perfectly fine with being numb to it all.

He hated that Neil made him feel when he’d never get the _one_ thing he wanted.

Neil started at that, brow furrowed as if he didn’t understand what Andrew had first said, and then he smiled, the expression slight. “ _But we’re not even out on the court_.”

“ _I don’t care, I still want to throttle you and bury you six feet under_.”

For some reason, Neil’s smile grew wider. “ _Yeah, I get that a lot_.”

Andrew gave him a bored look. “ _I’m not surprised. Most days I want to do it 80% of the time, but right now it’s up to 82%_.”

“ _Oh, then that’s **nothing**. I think Jean’s at a constant 95%_ ,” Neil told him with a cocky grin that made the inside of Andrew’s chest tingle.

He was about to raise the percentage when people began to stream out of Wymack’s office and the grin slipped from Neil’s face as he stood up. Bren became even more protective, but the only ones who came close enough to touch Neil were Moreau, Patel and Curtis.

“Thank you so much,” Curtis said as she wrapped her arms around a clearly uncomfortable Neil, who managed to rub her back a couple of times. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

“You’ll see me soon enough when we’re kicking your butt out on court,” he told her, his smile a little off.

That made Curtis laugh as she stepped back, her eyes red and nose stuffy. “I don’t want to think about playing against you, that’s going to be so weird.”

“You’ll have a couple of months to get used to it.” Neil gave her a pat on the shoulder and stepped back to put even more space between them. “Never hesitate to call if you need anything, promise?”

“I promise.”

He looked over at Wymack, who nodded. “Everything’s set up like you asked – the contract, the press release, the dorm, everything. Dan will help her register for classes next week, too.” He sounded gruff and a bit respectful.

Neil nodded once. “Someone will be dropping off her car once practice starts, if someone here can help her with the new plates and registration it would be appreciated. Probably best not to have anything tied to Edgar Allan on it.”

Kevin made a choking noise at that. “Wait, Tetsuji let her keep her car, too? _How_?”

Moreau gave him another scathing look. “This isn’t about _you_ , Kevin, do keep that in mind for once.”

“ _Go fuck yourself_!” Kevin shouted in French at his former teammate, which only made Moreau scoff in return.

“Want me to break his other hand?” Bren offered to a frowning Neil without any attempt to lower his voice.

“Hmm, tempting, but no,” Neil replied while Wymack and Wilds glared at them. “Let’s just go, we’re done here and I’ve had it with all of the orange.”

“Oh heck yeah, I’d say ‘poor Meg’ but she signed up for this.” Patel waved goodbye to Curtis, the gesture turning into the finger as she scowled at Kevin. “Come on, Crusty, let’s see how much coffee we can have on our way home.”

“Chips first, Neil promised,” Bren said as he herded the Ravens toward the door.

Neil hesitated to glance back at Andrew, who mouthed ‘Saturday’ to him and got a slight smile in return before he left. There was another pang in Andrew’s chest as the door closed behind his little bird, but not quite as bad as it had been in April.

It was still bad enough.

“Oh, I’m going to miss them,” Curtis said as she started sniffling. “It’s… they’re always there, you know?” She sniffled some more and then gave a weak laugh as Renee handed her some tissues. “It was hard enough being back home, and at least I had my mom.”

Kevin rubbed his left hand and managed a somewhat sympathetic tone as he looked at the newest Fox. “It’s the whole Raven pairing system, you get used to having someone around all of the time.”

“Yeah, that was Marley,” Curtis agreed. “She’s great.” She gave another weak laugh. “Now she has Naomi. I don’t know what Teresa’s going to do.”

Renee offered the girl a one-armed hug. “I’m sure Neil will look after her, just like he did you.”

“As for you, you’re gonna room with me, okay?” Wilds told Curtis. “We got it all arranged. Until the dorms are open in a few days, Allison’s got this nice big suite for the four of us to stay in, perfect for some Fox bonding time, and then we’ll move into the dorm together.” She offered Curtis a big grin. “It’ll be really nice, sharing a room with just one person after so long.”

“I certainly won’t complain about the new arrangement,” Reynolds remarked as she stood next to Renee.

“A suite.” For some reason a wistful smile came over Curtis’ face at that. “That’ll be nice.”

While the four of them talked, Andrew went into Wymack’s office, where the man was organizing some of the mess on his desk, with Kevin following at his heels like a good little puppy. “What?” Wymack asked when he noticed Andrew’s presence.

“That works out well for you, doesn’t it?”

“Well, I’m sure Sheena Hurst isn’t going to be happy to find out that she’s relegated that much further to sub dealer position now that we signed someone with more experience, but yeah, it does.” He gave Andrew a level look before he resumed messing with the paperwork. “I was asked to take on a talented player in need, and that’s exactly what I did. Curtis is bright, understands the concept of teamwork as well as putting in the effort, so she’ll be of great value to this team.” He glanced up at Kevin. “Your thoughts?”

“She’ll help us move forward this year, definitely,” Kevin agreed. “You did right to accept her – USC or whoever else Neil had in mind for her would have snatched her up in a heartbeat.”

“Dan agrees as well, so that’s that.” Done shuffling papers about, Wymack looked up once more. “She’s a Fox now, so she’ll be treated like one. Are you going to tell me that you don’t trust her or something like that?”

Oddly enough… no, Andrew didn’t think that _Neil_ would have staged such a thing, would have roughed up someone he’d made such an effort to protect, not when he’d told Andrew that he had no interest in seeing Kevin back at Edgar Allan. Also, there was Renee and if _she_ wasn’t worried about Curtis’ presence on the team then it should be fine. “Yee’s going to be obnoxious when he finds out.”

Wymack rolled his eyes at that. “We’ve dealt with relationships between teammates before, we’ll deal with those two. Now if you two idiots are done wasting my time, go do something productive for once and stop bothering me.”

Kevin perked up at that. “I can practice now?”

“Yeah, sure, whatever.” Wymack made a shooing motion, but Kevin was already out the door. Andrew went to follow when Wymack called out his name.

“Minyard.” When Andrew paused to give him a blank look, Wymack didn’t look up from laptop. “Josten… he’s not what I expected, all things considered. I’m not sure what’s going on with him, but he did good by Meg. Seems to me that he picked the wrong team, no?”

Andrew was quiet for a moment or two before he spoke. “You’re right in that you don’t know what’s going on,” he said before he slipped out the door, the sound of Wymack’s muttering fading as he walked away.

He went to the locker room where Kevin was changing into his gear and received a curious look. “Are you going to join me out on the court today? It’s not much longer before practice officially starts and you could really use the exercise after… you know.”

“Are you going to tell me what it was that Moreau said to you that had you so upset?” Andrew countered.

Kevin gazed at him for a couple of seconds before slamming his locker shut. “You know Neil and Jean have spent all this time working hard and practicing. They’re not going to let Riko’s loss and now Meg’s slow them down.”

Andrew wondered if he could get the answer out of Neil – if it wasn’t about himself, his little birdy might be persuaded to sing after all. “What part of me coming off my meds makes you think I now give a damn about Exy?” Andrew asked as he leaned against a locker. “The answer is still ‘no’.”

“You have to care about something,” Kevin insisted as he shoved on his shoulder pads. “Else why put yourself through what you did to be ready for summer practice? Why stick around today when Wymack told us to go?”

Why indeed? A pair of pale blue eyes and a wavering smile came to Andrew’s mind just then, but he didn’t say anything, just let Kevin finish getting dressed in brewing disgruntlement before stomping out to the court.

And found himself counting down the days until Saturday.

*******

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ******  
> Ah... it was something plotted out a long time ago? It helps to bring the Foxes and Ravens together? I'M REALLY SORRY! I know some of you really like the M&M's.....
> 
> And sorry that Kevin took some hits there at the end. Neil and Jean still have some issues to work out in regards to him....
> 
> No, Neil didn't give Ichirou a plushie this time. He's been to NYC before so... he'll pick him up something when he goes someplace different, I promise....
> 
> Uhm... I think that's it? Other than I feel like there should have been more Andrew in this one, but you got to see NEIL do some pining which is good. More Andrew next chapter.
> 
> As always, thank you SO MUCH for the comments and kudos.
> 
> Happy New Year!  
> *******


	15. Blurry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter? Let's see... in the wake of Riko being admitted to a mental hospital (until Ichirou permanently dealt with him) and Tetsuji being smacked down by his nephew, Jean was made the Ravens' new captain and Neil their vice-captain. Some of the team wasn't too happy with that, but Tetsuji seemed to obeying Ichirou's 'no drama' rule.  
> Seemed to.  
> All of the Ravens returned from their very short break (those who left) and the new freshmen showed up for summer training, and Tetsuji seemed to make his move against Neil and Jean, using a low-ranked Raven Riko had been abusing/talking to in the month or so - Lincoln. The Raven targeted Meg and beat her up when she was alone for a few minutes, to be stopped by Bren (along with Jean, Neil and Marley). Shaken by the ordeal, Meg took Neil up on his offer to leave the Ravens and transferred to the Foxes.  
> Andrew recovered from his rehab, assisted by Bee and Abby at Bee's house, which had wrapped up shortly before Meg's ordeal. He hadn't reached out to Neil yet, though, confused by the fact that as hollowed out as he was without the drugs, he still felt something for Neil. Trying to deal with those emotions before he talked to Neil, he and Kevin were there when Neil showed up with Meg (along with Jean, Marley and Bren), and had to face the fact that not only was Neil rather upset with him (having found out from Wymack that Andrew was 'done with rehab' and ignoring him), but that yes, he did indeed feel something for a certain birdy. After getting Neil past his anger, they talked for a bit (Andrew wanted answers about how Neil had managed to get Meg out of her contract and why he had a bodyguard, and only got part of the truth), and were back on good terms. Kevin was put in his place by Jean and Neil, though...
> 
> All right! So, this isn't a really long chapter (at least compared to the last couple? LOL, it's still pretty damn long, though). It's... hmm. It gets the plot moving and helps set things up for the NEXT chapter. It is what it is. 
> 
> Don't think there's any new trigger warnings in this one? Just mention of things from the past?
> 
> And thanks to Fall-for-the-Game for the beta!  
> *******

*******

Andrew lay on the bench and stared at his phone while Kevin played his stupid stickball game; Neil had sent him a message a short while ago complaining about having to train a bunch of freshmen, leaving him to wonder if it was a deflection of sorts – was he talking about it to avoid bringing up something else or was it genuine?

It was so difficult to figure Neil out through texts, when Andrew couldn’t hear his voice or see his expressions. Couldn’t pick up clues through a sense of mockery or flatness, or even Moreau’s reactions in the background. Through the flash of emotion in blue eyes or white teeth biting into a full bottom lip.

Then again, considering the annoyance about to start on Monday, Neil’s message probably _was_ genuine. Not much longer until the rest of the Foxes returned (Yee and Boyd) along with the four new freshmen, and Kevin’s overbearingness would go up several notches as he and Wilds pushed for the team to start off the season by winning games.

Andrew had just sent a message back for Neil to dump the work on poetic Patel and was about to text Renee to see what was going on when he heard voices and the sound of footsteps. He sat up and looked over to see Renee, Reynolds, Wilds and Curtis approaching, the upperclassmen in their uniforms and Curtis in wearing an old away uniform of Renee’s and what must be cobbled together gear since Wymack had said he’d have her new uniform ready just in time for Monday.

Kevin heard the noise and paused in his drill work as well, and grew excited when he saw the women – more likely, Curtis. “You’re here to practice?”

“Yes, if you don’t mind,” Curtis called out, her borrowed helmet tucked beneath her left arm. Her face didn’t show any signs of bruises, which made Andrew wonder if Reynolds had done something to hide them, especially since it still appeared a little puffy.

“Not at all.” Kevin gave Andrew an intent look and shook his head when Andrew returned it with a flat one. “It’s great that there’s _finally_ someone with a real sense of commitment on the team.” He ignored the middle finger Reynolds gave him as she, Curtis and Wilds went out on the court.

Renee paused near Andrew and gave him a smile in greeting. “She was really bored at the hotel,” she explained without any verbal prompting. “It’s clear that she’s used to doing things and sitting around wasn’t good for her, so we’re here.”

He put his phone aside and glanced out onto the court, where Curtis was doing some stretches to warm up. “She say anything about Neil?”

“No, other than that he arranged for her to leave the Ravens.” Renee tugged on her cross necklace and pursed her lips as if frustrated. “She’s being very quiet in regards to him so if you’re hoping to get something out of her, be careful. It’s clear that she cares about him and feels she owes him a lot.”

Not what he wanted to hear just then, that another bird wasn’t willing to sing, so he laid back down and resumed reading a book on his phone. After a while the five morons worked their way up to an impromptu scrimmage with Renee in the goal, and Andrew had to put up with Wilds and Kevin yelling various calls and things, which left him swearing to bring headphones the next day.

Wilds was disgustingly optimistic when she, Renee, Reynolds and Curtis left for the hotel, and Kevin smug enough that Andrew wanted to follow him into the showers and drown him. “Meg’s going to work well with the team,” the Exy addict said as he pulled off his sweat-soaked uniform. “She’s good enough that she’s already figuring out how to adapt to our style. This is what we need, people like her.”

“Maybe a few more players will get beat up and transfer to the Foxes,” Andrew drawled as he leaned against a locker.

It took a few seconds for the meaning to sink in, and at least Kevin had the grace to grow flustered before he stalked off to the showers.

There was a message from Neil late at night (more of the Ravens’ fucked up schedule) about how poetic Patel was ‘enjoying being a sophomore’, whatever that meant, and then on Friday Wymack spent some time watching Kevin, the upperclassmen and Curtis out on court with a pleased smile on his face. “It’s going to be a good season,” he predicted, as if Andrew cared.

When Andrew made a show of putting on his headphones, Wymack sighed and shook his head while muttering about ‘damn midgets’, at which point Andrew started playing his music loud enough to drown out the pest.  He got a good bit through his book that day (Les Misérables in French) before Kevin ended practice, a little earlier than usual since the ‘monsters’ were headed to Columbia for the weekend.

Everyone (but Andrew) was excited to return, of course; Nicky and Aaron had run out once or twice to check on the house while Andrew had gone through rehab, but that night was the first time that the four of them had returned to Eden’s Twilight (after stopping by Sweeties’ first) in over two months. Their former coworkers were quick to welcome them back and congratulate them on a mostly successful season, and soon enough Andrew was at the bar and dealing with a smiling Roland.

“Didn’t think I was going to see you again,” Roland said by way of greeting. “There were rumors that you ran off and joined a pro team.”

“Amusing.” Andrew tapped a wad of bills against the surface of the bar. “The usual.” He’d waited to discover if he felt anything upon seeing Roland again or hearing his deep voice, in being near the man he’d spent so many nights with in the one storeroom, the fuck-buddy (technically) with the muscular physique and handsome face and willingness to follow orders. The man who couldn’t be any more different than a certain little bird, at least physically.

Yet Andrew stared up at Roland’s smiling face, at his dark brown eyes and easy-going smile which slowly faltered, and felt _nothing_ , not even a faint thrum of desire. No desire, no frustration, nothing to make him want to follow the bartender into the storeroom later (though the fact that he’d spent some time jerking off in the shower last night while thinking of a certain redhead might have _something_ to do with it).

Roland stared after him for a few more seconds before he started on the drinks. “You all right? You seem a little off.”

“Just fine,” Andrew told him, aware of what Roland meant; for the past week or so, everyone had been giving him odd looks and asking if he was ‘all right’ as they tried to adjust to him ‘off meds’ – to him no longer high from the damn drugs. To him no longer smiling and manic.

Nicky had finally stopped telling him to ‘smile a little’ after Andrew had pulled a knife on him the other day and said ‘no’. Somehow, Andrew didn’t think the other Foxes (other than Renee) would care enough to comment, outside of a few odd looks. At least to his face.

Roland gave him a concerned look when the drinks were ready, but seemed to be assured that things weren’t that wrong when he received his usual hefty tip. Alcohol acquired for the time being, Andrew picked up the tray and made his way back to the table where his ‘monsters’ were waiting, and was quick to divvy them up along with the cracker dust they’d picked up at Sweeties. He only had a couple of packets for himself, mindful of his lower tolerance after the last several weeks, and soon enough had a pleasant buzz humming through his veins while Aaron and Nicky went off to dance.

Nice to see that some things hadn’t changed.

He sat there nursing a shot of whiskey when Kevin finished his sixth vodka and set the glass down. “We have a good chance this year,” he said without any preamble, considering that they’d been drinking in silence until then. “No more Gordon, Kenny’s got some experience under his belt and now Meg Curtis on the team. Jack Matheson’s got some good promise, too, and will help round out our offense, and we can work with Kelly White and Gerald Hayes.”

Well, _Renee_ could work with Hayes since he’d be replacing her when she graduated, and White would help out the defensive line. Andrew noticed that Kevin hadn’t said anything about Hurst, but with Curtis around, the Exy addict probably wouldn’t pay much attention to freshman dealer.

Still, there was something important that Kevin was missing. “Why do you think I care about any of this?” Andrew asked before he finished his shot. “Nothing’s changed.”

Kevin’s jaw clenched as he picked up another shot. “Right now? I think we can take out Belmonte which puts us in third place in the district, which isn’t good, not when the Ravens will clinch first place. To stand a chance of making it to the semi-finals again, we need to knock out Breckenridge.”

Andrew wanted to ask why the hell Kevin was bothering him with stupid stickball stuff… but Kevin had that look of determination on his face and was positive. Mostly positive. He was talking about the upcoming season and not going on about how the Foxes were going to crash and burn, which was a drastic change from a year ago. “So?”

“Breckenridge sees the Ravens as the main competition, I’m willing to bet,” the addict argued. “They beat us last year and are used to ruling this district – at least until the Ravens came here. But I think we’re good enough to take them and we need to not be paired against Edgar Allan in the first round.”

“Still not good enough to beat them?” Andrew gave a pointed look to Kevin’s left hand as he picked up another shot.

Kevin held his scarred hand cradled against his chest, even though it seemed to have made a full recovery. “I don’t… Riko sat out most of the last couple of games he was in, and the Ravens still played well. They’re _all_ excellent players.” He gave Andrew a disapproving look before shaking his head. “There’s only so far I can carry this team alone.”

Someone thought highly of themselves, didn’t they? “I’m surprised you don’t have us all the way to the finals,” Andrew mocked in a dry tone as he stacked the empty glasses back on the tray.

Of course Kevin took him seriously – it was about Exy, after all. “No, not this season. Jeremy wasn’t kidding when he said that the Trojans would have learned from our game with them, and I can’t imagine that Tetsuji isn’t drilling the Ravens harder than ever to make up for the lack of Riko.” He shuddered just then as he rubbed at his shoulders, his expression bleak; Andrew’s eyes narrowed at that, at the implication it had for Neil.  “We have to get as far as we can and gather as many points as possible before we play the Trojans or the Ravens.”

Andrew shrugged to show what he thought about facing either of those teams – he didn’t care to have to put up with the Trojans and their ‘let’s all be friends’ attitude (or fly out to California again), and it was too much effort to go against the Ravens (though it meant he got to see Neil). “Whatever.”

That earned him a glare. “No, not ‘whatever’, this is important! This is-“

“No more Exy talk,” Andrew declared as he leaned over the table a little, not quite in Kevin’s face but enough to tell how flushed his friend was despite the dim lighting in the club. Just another couple of shots and Kevin would be well on his way to drunk, and the cracker dust had definitely kicked in.

“But-“

“Not unless you want to tell me about the little conversation you had with Moreau earlier this week, hmm?” Andrew watched as Kevin’s green eyes widened and his cheeks grew even more flushed, right before he shook his head hard enough that he almost fell off of the stool. “Huh.” Someone was definitely spooked by that secret, weren’t they? It had to be a good one, which meant that Andrew was going to find out what it was before it blew up in both of their faces.

“Don’t move, I’m getting another round,” he warned before he picked up the tray and returned to the bar, where he had to wait a couple of minutes before Roland could set him up with another round of drinks. By the time he returned to the table, Aaron and Nicky were back and eager for more shots, and Kevin sulked after he went through his vodka. Andrew checked his phone to help kill the time, and replied to Neil’s text which confirmed their call the next morning and asked about Curtis.

He got everyone back to the house without too much effort and set an alarm on his phone to wake up in time for the call, and only had one nightmare that night – of Thanksgiving at Abby’s where Wymack didn’t come out in time, where a smirking Drake, his skin mottled with the first stages of decomposition, pinned a stunned and repulsed Andrew on the ground and leaned over him. Andrew could feel those hands on him, the fetid breath on his neck, could hear that detested ‘AJ’ echoing in his ears when he jerked awake, covered in sweat and his heartbeat racing.

In a way, he supposed that it was good that it was his mind twisting things on him for once instead of throwing the past back at him, a snapshot of time he desperately wished that he could scrub from his brain but couldn’t. No, something new and twisted as fuck but different? Almost a relief.

Even if it just proved to him that he’d never be free of the bastard despite Drake being dead and buried.

He managed to get a little more rest after that, and was up, showered and in the GS in plenty of time to have some coffee and donuts before Neil called. “Can I send you five more people?” Neil asked right away.

Andrew considered that while Moreau huffed and said something about ‘slacker’ in the background. “Only if I send you our freshmen in return – I’m not dealing with that many newbies all at once.”

“But I wanna get rid of them,” Neil complained as if a spoiled child.

“That bad?” Andrew slumped a little more in his seat and ate the last bite of his cream-filled donut.

It was quiet for a few seconds before Neil sighed. “It’s… this vice-captain thing is difficult,” he admitted, the exhaustion noticeable in his voice that time. “And five people is a lot more than two. They’re just so eager and all ‘how did you do that’ and ‘show me again’ and… argh!”

“I’d think you’d be used to it after Patel and Curtis.” So far Neil didn’t sound too bad, just frustrated over training the newbies.

“Well, Marley had a bit of an attitude,” oh, what a surprise – especially when poetic Patel’s voice rang out in the background in protest, “but she picked up things really quickly. She’s trying to help, but it’s like… well, it’s a lot like having five Megs, though not all of them are as good as she was, to be honest. They’re not _bad_ , but it’ll take some work to get all of them up to her level.”

Yes, Andrew had noticed that Curtis was annoyingly good-natured, which meant that she got along well with Renee. “And what’s your new captain doing during all of this?”

“He’s dealing with the rest of the team.” Now there was a hint of steel in Neil’s voice, an obvious warning to Andrew that Moreau was off-limits (what else was new?), at least in regards to any questions about how he was handling the Ravens.

Still, Andrew _did_ have questions and wanted answers, considering everything that had happened lately. “And just how is the rest of the team? Handling the loss of their beloved previous captain well?”

Again, there was a slight pause while Moreau said something to Neil, his voice too soft to be heard clearly. “You’re rather curious today, aren’t you? Especially since you had your turn the other day,” Neil pointed out.

“You showed up in Palmetto with a battered Raven and dumped her on my team after turning down my offer,” Andrew reminded his little bird. “This is after Tetsuji seemingly had a long-overdue epiphany that his nephew was a psychopath and should be locked up, and you’ve an overprotective bodyguard assigned to you. So do me a favor and sing me a song or two because I think I’m owed _something_.” He thought about what had happened in the lounge and sighed. “Something more, and I’m not pressing about whatever deal you made with the main branch.” At least, not right _then_.

Neil let out a slow breath. “Okay, if you answer me this – are you all right? You’re… you seem a little ‘off’.”

That was one way to put it, Andrew supposed. “This is your brain, this is your brain on mood-altering drugs, and this is what’s left of your brain after those drugs are stripped from your body,” Andrew intoned in a flat manner. “I’m fine.” Except for his heart racing over the fact that Neil had thought to ask about him.

“Uhm, okay.” Neil sounded confused, but Andrew suspected it was more a case of the little bird not catching the reference he’d used more than anything; he’d learned over the last few months that Neil was _not_ the partner to pick for a pop-culture quiz. “Just wanted to be certain.”

“Now your turn. Sing, little bird.”

“You’re such an asshole,” Neil sighed, with Moreau and poetic Patel agreeing ( _why_ was Patel there?).

“I already know that song, try a different tune.”

It sounded as if Neil swore in Russian for a few seconds, which prompted more amused huffing from Moreau. “For the most part, things are… well, they’re okay here, what happened to Meg aside. There’s still a few people who seem to think that Riko’s coming back and it’s _not_ going to happen.” Oh, was someone rather _certain_ about that? Interesting. “They seemed to realize that a bit better when I got Meg out of here without Tetsuji doing a thing to stop it. But Jean’s busy keeping the infighting over Riko’s spot for the starting striker from getting out of control, as well as the starting backliners.”

Andrew considered that as he sipped his coffee, considered the tired honesty he heard in Neil’s voice and clicked his tongue. “What about that Bren guy? He still sticking around you?”

“Yeah, he helps to keep everyone in check, but there’s only so much he can do when we’re out on court – and no, it’s practice, it’s going to get rough,” Neil stressed. “Maybe if you Foxes put a bit more effort into things, you’d do better in a game.”

“I believe we’ll disagree on that.” Andrew had another sip of coffee before he set it aside. “And Tetsuji?”

“Is Tetsuji.” Neil sounded tired again, tired and a bit annoyed. “He’s upset about Riko and refuses to allow us to be less than perfect. There’s nothing else to say.”

Andrew wondered if there was some sort of word play going on there, but Neil’s patience seemed to be wearing thin so he dropped it. As it was, he’d have to wait until next week to ask about Kevin’s little secret, but it was worth it to make sure that Neil hadn’t gotten into trouble over transferring Curtis to the Foxes. “I suppose that’s a decent song for once.”

“There’s no _supposing_ about it,” Neil griped while Moreau complained about rude bastards in the background. “Now it’s your turn.”

“I wait with baited breath.” Andrew slurped his coffee extra loud because he knew it would provoke a reaction.

“No regrets about not sleeping right now at all,” Neil said with a good bit more impatience and sarcasm. “I guess… it’s more an open-ended thing. You’ll tell me if there’s anything affecting Meg, right? I know there shouldn’t be any problem with the team right now, but there’s the new freshmen starting next week and none of them better bother her.” His voice took on a hard edge toward the end.

“Or what? You going to send down your bodyguard to break some arms?” Andrew asked, and clicked his tongue again when Neil was quiet. “Violence doesn’t solve anything,” he said, well aware of the irony right then.

It wasn’t fair (but then again, what was?), how the sound of Neil’s chuckle made something twist inside of Andrew’s chest, made him more awake and aware than the cup of sugar-enriched coffee. “I believe we’ll disagree on that,” Neil threw back at Andrew. “But as long as those new Foxes leave Meg alone, we won’t need to find out, will we?”

“I guess not.”

“Yeah.” There was a yawning sound and another faint murmur from Moreau. “Okay, some of us have to put up with a bunch of rookies in a few hours so I need to get going.”

Someone must be tired, because they were forgetting something. “Neil?”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll let you know about Curtis, as long as you let me know if things get bad there at the Nest, agreed?” Andrew didn’t give a shit about the incoming freshmen, but he wasn’t about to let an opportunity to pass him by like this.

Neil sighed again before a tired chuckle slipped free. “You do remember Bren, don’t you?” When Andrew remained quiet, he sighed again. “Fine, it’s a deal. Not that there’s much you can do about it, but I’ll let you know.”

Someone was underestimating him, but Andrew was used to that by now. “Get some sleep, little bird. You have all those baby chicks to deal with in the morning.”

“Enough with the damn bird references!” Neil yelled, right before he hung up.

Andrew sat in the car for a few minutes after the call ended and smoked a cigarette while he thought about Neil worrying so much about someone he'd gotten free and clear of Edgar Allan instead of his own fool self. Then he forced himself to start the GS and return to the house after picking up some breakfast sandwiches along the way, where he found Nicky hunched over the counter as his cousin waited for the coffee to finish brewing, hungover from the night before. Aaron woke up not long after that, and gave Andrew an appraising stare when he noticed the take-out food.

"How's Josten?" Aaron asked, his tone snide as he picked up one of the sandwiches.

Andrew refilled his mug of coffee and walked out of the kitchen without answering his brother, which was much safer for Aaron's health.

They stayed at the house that night, Nicky going through the effort of having a cook-out in the backyard and running out for supplies rather than heading back to Eden's again. Andrew sat on the porch and watched his family (and Kevin) get drunk. Nicky was his usual idiot self, loud and hyper and obnoxious enough to challenge Kevin to some weird game of volleyball, even though they didn't have a net or a court or anything like that, just an inflatable ball which the two of them hit back and forth - most of the time in each other's face (well, Kevin into Nicky's face since the bastard refused to lose at any sport). Meanwhile, Aaron lay sprawled in a lawn chair and mocked the both of them.

Andrew supposed it was better than watching some boring movie, though he pulled out his phone and flipped through a book at one point during the night.

They returned to Palmetto on Sunday, Andrew driving and the other three doing their best to sleep off their hangovers, and Abby fussed over them when they reached her house. Andrew left them with the nurse so he could meet up with Renee at the stadium (using Kevin's keys), where they made an impromptu practice area in the outer ring for a sparring match, feeling the tension leave his muscles for the first time in days as he ducked beneath the swipes of Renee's knife and twisted out of the way of her hits again and again, as he bit back on the pain of her kicks and punches and felt the faint glow of satisfaction as his own landed. It wasn't as long of a session as usual, not when they hadn't sparred in weeks, but there was a slight smile on Renee's lips when she managed to knock the knife from his hand, and an unfamiliar peace inside of him as he stepped back to rest his hands on his knees.

"I missed this," Renee admitted. "Do you feel a bit better now?"

He gave her a flat look as he wiped at the sweat on his face.

"Well, I do." She hummed a little as she fetched a bottle of water for each of them. "Though let's hope we don't scare any of the freshmen." Her smile was a bit rueful as she dabbed at her bruised cheek. "I may need to have Allison do me up in the morning, too."

Andrew figured the sooner the newbies got used to things, the better, and drank his water in silence as Renee prattled on about how excited Wilds was about the upcoming season. Soon enough, he left her so he could go pick up Kevin, and Wilds, Reynolds, and Curtis were there when they returned to the stadium. Curtis gave him and Renee some odd looks for their darkening bruises, but didn't say anything when Renee continued to smile and went out into the goal.

The Foxes were supposed to show up around ten am on Monday, and for once most of them were on time since over half the team was already in town; the 'monsters' arrived to find that the upperclassmen and Curtis were already there, along with a new couch that Wymack had ordered so the freshmen would have somewhere to sit, and already had their room keys.

"Here," Wymack called out as he tossed a set of keys to Andrew, who then separated them to hand out one each to Nicky, Aaron and Kevin. "Let's see if you guys can go another year without killing each other."

"Aw, come on, why so negative, Coach?" Nicky asked while Andrew grabbed a chair and pulled it over to the loveseat, with Kevin sitting on the end nearest him, Nicky in the middle and Aaron on the other end.

"Years of experience." Wymack watched their antics for a few seconds before shaking his head. "If one of you decides to break free, there's always space in another room - everyone else is paired up in twos this year."

Andrew noticed a gleam of interest in Aaron's eyes, but no one took the man up on the offer. Meanwhile, Curtis grew excited as she checked her phone. "Kenny's here! He said as soon as he grabs his luggage, he'll meet up with Matt and they'll come straight here." She all but bounced in her seat as she made the announcement; the swelling had gone down on her face but Reynolds had hid the remaining bruises behind makeup again.

"He'll be so happy to see you," Wilds assured her, and while those two went on about their boyfriends, Andrew pulled out his phone to see if Neil had sent any new texts while Kevin harangued Wymack about any clues on the upcoming season’s schedule.

Soon enough Boyd and Yee arrived, with Yee letting out a yell when he saw Curtis and picking her up when she held out her arms for a hug. Boyd did the same for Wilds, even though they’d spent most of their summer break together, causing Andrew to feel a little sick to his stomach and Aaron to make a faint gagging noise while Nicky complained about the two of them being unromantic killjoys.

While Wymack was handing them the keys to their shared suite, a couple of the new freshmen arrived – Matheson and Hurst, their new striker and dealer, respectively. Andrew wasn't certain if they knew each other or just managed to get grouped together by security, but they arrived hauling a couple of big suitcases each, all wide-eyed as they took in their surroundings - especially when they noticed Kevin, who at that point was standing by Wymack (and still pestering him about an idea of the season's schedule, even though it shouldn't be out yet).

"Welcome to the Foxes," Wymack greeted them. "We'll do a proper introduction when everyone's here, which shouldn't be much longer now."

"Kevin Day," Matheson breathed out as he shoved his luggage aside and hurried over to Kevin, which made Andrew keep a careful eye on the kid. "It's a pleasure to meet you!" He held out his right hand, which Kevin shook after a moment's hesitation. "Uhm, I'm Jack. Jack Matheson."

"I know," Kevin told him with a slight frown. "I picked you from the stack of recruits." Matheson looked ready to wet himself from delight upon hearing that, how disgusting. "You need to work hard to live up to your potential."

"Yuh- yes!"

Aaron made some more gagging noises at Matheson’s fanboying, while Hurst was clearly waiting her turn to gush over Kevin; it was while she was edging closer to the two strikers that she noticed Curtis, who was still chatting with Yee. "Hey, wait! Aren't you a Raven? What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Well, we at least know she has decent eyesight," Aaron muttered as he continued to play some game on his phone.

"And lungs," Nicky complained while cupping his hands over his ears.

"What the fuck is a Raven doing here?" Hurst repeated as she stomped over to Curtis, which made Yee take a defensive position in front of his girlfriend and Wilds to stand beside the sophomore. "You-"

"Hey!" Wymack shouted and clapped his hands together, which made Hurst stop in her tracks while Curtis gave the taller girl a narrow look as if refusing to be intimidated. "That's Meg Curtis and she's not a Raven anymore, she's a Fox and a fellow teammate."

"What the hell?" Hurst whirled around to gape at Wymack and even Matheson stopped fanboying over Kevin to join in. "But... since when? This is ridiculous-"

"Since now, so I don't want to hear anything other than how excited everyone is to work together." Wymack crossed his arms over his chest as he gazed around the room. "Got it?"

Hurst gave Curtis a baleful look before muttering something and going over to one of the couches, where she dropped down and sat in an obviously bad mood. When Kevin went to sit back down on the loveseat, leaving Matheson standing by himself, the rookie frowned and went over to sit by Hurst.

" _Think someone realized that she's not going to be the special princess this season, now that she has competition who can kick her ass_?" Nicky commented in German as he looked over at the two glowering freshmen.

" _Ask someone who cares_ ," Aaron said, yet there was a slight smile on his lips as he glanced over at the couch before focusing his attention back on his phone.

Kevin gave them a look for speaking in German before he shook his head. "Coach, what-"

"No," Wymack told him, obviously at the end of his patience. "Not until the end of August so shut up before I take away your keys to the court."

Displeased about the threat, Kevin settled into a sulk while they waited for the remaining two newbies; Wilds and Curtis talked about the plans for their room with Reynolds and Renee adding a comment here and there, and Boyd and Yee just sat there grinning like fools.

It was going to be a long year, Andrew could already tell.

He was busy texting Neil that it was only fair that his little bird take one of the new Foxes in return for Curtis when White appeared, seeming wary of a room full of strangers, and about ten minutes later Hayes finally showed up in a burst of nervous energy.

“It’s about god-damn time,” Wymack growled as Abby waved to the new Foxes, having spent the past twenty minutes catching up with Boyd and Yee. “Now we can finally get started.”

“Yeah, you can tell us why the hell there’s a-“

“If I hear the word ‘Raven’ one more time that’s not associated to us playing Edgar Allan, I’m making whoever says it run a marathon,” Wymack warned, his gaze fixed on Hurst. “Think I’m joking?”

“He’s not,” Wilds added with a wide grin on her face. “And while you’re waiting for it to come around, _I’ll_ make you run laps around the court and do nothing but suicide drills, got it?”

Wymack grunted in approval as he once more folded his tattooed arms over his broad chest. “That would be Dan Wilds, your captain, if you haven’t figured it out yet. You listen to her and you listen to me, whoever barks first. Now, what were you going to say?”

Hurst looked ready to chew on her own tongue, but she was apparently bright enough (barely) to just shake her head. “Nothing.” Still, the look she gave Curtis, with her bright ACISC sneakers, fancy running shorts and tank-top with the loose, obviously new Foxes sleeveless top over it was a mix of envy and dislike, if Andrew was to take an educated guess. Curtis (with the bruises covered up by one of Reynolds’ makeup jobs) looked almost like a slightly smaller, younger and more cute than model-attractive version of the older dealer, even though Renee had mentioned that Curtis’ parents were solidly middle-class (hence why they hadn’t minded her switching universities too much, as long as she was happy, maintained a good scholarship and still had a shot at a pro career).

Whereas like a good deal of the Foxes (those other than Reynolds and Boyd), Hurst clearly came from a more ‘economically-challenged’ background, judging from the cheap luggage, the worn sneakers and the no-brand clothes. A scholarship to PSU would mean a hell of a lot to a Fox like her… and she probably hated the thought that someone like Curtis was taking ‘advantage’ of it, especially when she’d already been offered one by the Ravens. That she was here now when it was supposed to be Hurst’s time to be important at last.

Oh well, life sucked like that, didn’t it?

Andrew could tell the rookie that nice clothes didn’t improve one’s life at all, didn’t make the nightmares and scars and horrible memories disappear, didn’t make people who knew the truth about you stop looking down on you. No, they just fit better and felt nicer, that was all. They only fooled strangers, and never for long at that – never once they got a look at what was beneath the pretty exterior to the mess hidden under the fine layers.

Not unless those people were hiding their own scars and pain and terrors as well.

Seeing that he’d subdued the bitching for the moment, Wymack launched into his spiel about what to expect for the season, going on about the practice schedule and mandatory physicals and all the other boring shit that Andrew had already heard twice now. Then he made everyone introduce themselves and state their positions, to which Andrew muttered, “not Aaron,” when it was his turn, which earned groans from the upperclassmen and a weary sigh from Wymack.

Matheson jumped at the chance to be the first freshman to speak and rambled on about his high school stats, glaring at Yee the entire time in what was a clear challenge to the sophomore.  Wonderful, Kevin had to pick someone just as much an asshole as himself when it came to Exy. Hurst was right behind him and made it clear that she didn’t think much of Curtis, while the ex-Raven merely smiled at her in a patronizing manner.

White hesitated a few seconds when the two freshmen assholes were finished before clearing her throat and speaking up, seeming uncomfortable at being the center of attention. Renee of course smiled at her and Wilds encouraged her to talk about her years of experience as a backliner, and the teenager gave up tugging on her shoulder-length, curly black hair and seemed to relax a little more by the time she finished talking.

That left Hayes, who couldn’t seem to sit still. He tapped his hands on his thighs and shifted about on the couch, but it appeared to be a natural energy and not anything chemically induced, especially with the way he smiled back at Renee, Wilds and Boyd. Yet Andrew caught a hint of flatness to his light green eyes now and then, a sign that he wasn’t as exuberant as he seemed, and figured that he used the smile as a mask.

“All right, Abby needs to clear you in the next day or two before you’re good for the season,” Wymack warned. “You can start now or come by tomorrow before practice, it’s up to you. Rookies, I have your keys and your dorm assignments, so if you want to stick around for them and to get your medicals out of the way, that’s fine.”

The newbies glanced at each other and seemed to go for that option, though Andrew noticed that Matheson and Hurst glanced at Kevin as if to see if he was sticking around. He wasn’t, since the four of them had plans to move into the dorm and then come back to be cleared by Abby. Andrew nodded in the direction of the door, done dealing with the Foxes – especially baby Foxes – for the day.

After two previous years of moving into Fox Tower, they managed to unpack their things from the GS and get it into their dorm room (the same one from last year) rather quickly, and only needed two more trips back to Abby’s for the rest of their stuff (which Nicky and Aaron handled). Once things were mostly unpacked, they returned to the stadium for Abby to do the usual poke and prod (a mere formality on Andrew’s part, since she’d just checked him over before Bee had allowed him out of her house), and then went grocery shopping for a fun hour of ‘shut the hell up, Kevin’ where they refused to listen to a certain health fanatic (except when it came to slowly killing his liver) rant about the benefits of kale and beets and a low-carb diet.

The next morning they were at the gym, where Wymack, with Wilds, Boyd and Kevin’s help, started the newbies and Curtis on the equipment while the rest of the Foxes worked out. Boyd had been elevated to vice-captain for the lack of a better option being available (including Kevin. _Especially_ Kevin), though Renee had ‘confided’ in Andrew that Wilds was going to keep her eye on Curtis to see how the girl worked out, and when Boyd took over the captaincy in the following year, have Curtis move into the vice-captaincy spot.

Andrew didn’t give a shit about the team captain (well, other than it not being _Kevin_ ). It was bad enough to be stuck with the Foxes for the next several months, especially with Matheson pointedly lifting more than Yee and Hurst sneering at Curtis while the ex-Raven warmed up on the elliptical, both of them making snide comments the entire time they spotted each other.

Wymack, as always, stood back and let it play out, willing to let the Foxes deal with each other and work out their issues. Wilds seemed to be biding her time and gauging the rookies, to get a proper feel for them.

Matheson did indeed have potential as a striker, was better as a freshman than Yee had been, but he also was impulsive and unpolished and prone to dramatic plays, where Yee had learned a lot over the past year and was a much better team player. White was solid, was better than Nicky at least, while Hayes needed to focus on the damn ball and not everything else happening on the court. As for Hurst? She was an aggressive little shit who was going to be red-carded her first game if she didn’t learn to calm down.

Andrew sat in Bee’s office (Aaron was counting down the days to the start of the semester, the bastard) and sipped his hot chocolate while Bee smiled at him. “So, soon it’ll be the start of another year, your junior year. How does it feel?”

He gave her a slight shrug. “Much the same as the other two, only less manic, for obvious reasons.”

“One would hope,” she replied with a slight wince. “Things are going well with the new recruits?”

He gave her a flat look before clicking his tongue. “I believe there was a comment made not too long ago about no more recriminating statements.”

That drew a weary sigh from Bee before she sipped her own hot chocolate. “I see this is going to be a wonderful year.”

She said it, not him.

“All right, so how are things going with Neil? Is he doing fine?” she asked as if rallying on to a new topic.

Andrew continued to stare at her for a little longer before letting out a slow breath. “On second thought, let’s get the recriminations over with now.”

“Andrew….” Bee closed her eyes as if gathering her strength. “I’ll assume that nothing’s changed then, with Neil?” She opened her eyes to give him an intent look. “Or else you’d give me some sort of pithy comment, wouldn’t you?” Now there was a slight smile on her face. “You’re being awfully quiet.”

He held her gaze while slurping his drink. “Smugness is unbecoming,” he said eventually.

“This isn’t being smug, not exactly. I’m… I’m happy for you, Andrew. This is an important step in your recovery, feeling this way for someone else. It’s-“

“It’s still _nothing_ ,” he insisted. “Or did you forget the part where he’s stuck at Edgar Allan for the next four years then goes off to play his stupid stickball game?”

Bee was quiet as she held her mug in her hands as if to soak in its warmth then shook her head. “A lot can happen in four years. A lot can happen in four months.”

“Spare me the platitudes,” Andrew told her, not in the mood to be fed a bunch of hopeless lies.

“It’s the truth,” she argued. “Why do you refuse to believe in anything positive?” When he gave her a flat look at that before gesturing to himself, she sighed. “I see that as every reason _to_ believe.”

“Yet _I’m_ the one they put on medication.”

As if despite herself, the left corner of Bee’s mouth twitched upward. “I’m now seeing Meg since she switched schools, and while I can’t really discuss our sessions, I can say that she’s a very bright young woman and she talks about Neil a lot, on and off the record.” Andrew refused to show any reaction to that. “She thinks very highly of him, and it’s clear that he’s an intelligent, resourceful young man.” She took a deliberate pause to sip her drink. “And a loyal friend. It seems to me that he’s just your type.” The fine lines around her eyes crinkled as she smiled. “There's also the fact that he’s very attractive, too.”

He stared back at her for several seconds before glancing around the room. “Is the hour up yet?”

Bee arched an eyebrow while she sipped her hot chocolate. "Let me just state that one thing I've learned in my years of practice? Denying emotions only tends to make them stronger. It's better for you to face them sooner than later."

Andrew scoffed at that. "Yes, because I always do what's best for me."

"You're here, aren't you?" Bee gestured around her office with her left hand. "It seems to me that you're making some effort in that regard."

Andrew narrowed his eyes as he tapped his fingers against the mug held in his hands. "I finished reading Les Misérables," he stated in a clear change of topic. "It was a waste of time, other than to improve my French."

Bee's smile indicated that she knew it for the diversionary tactic that it was but she was willing to allow it. "Really? How come? What didn't you like about the story?"

They spent the rest of the session discussing the book and debating what Andrew should read next, and - the topic of Neil aside - it was a good hour.

Which meant it wasn't surprising when the rest of the week went downhill after that. Yee and Matheson almost got into a physical fight twice out on court, and when Boyd yelled at Kevin to do something about his two 'mini-mes', all the arrogant bastard did was shrug and say that it was for them to work out - that and _he_ wasn't the vice-captain. Hurst continued to snipe away at Curtis, until the normally cheerful girl flat out challenged her to a duel against Renee on the goal.

The cocky little shit accepted, and got her ass handed to her; she managed to get two shots past Renee in the five minute time limit, but Curtis had left the Ravens on her own terms and had a point to prove - by the time she'd racked up five shots, Wilds put an end to it.

"That's not fair, Renee let her win because they're friends," Hurst declared, her face red with indignation. "Let me try against Andr-"

Wilds slashed her gloved right hand through the air to put a stop to that idiocy while Reynolds glared and Nicky snickered. "First off, don't _ever_ insinuate that one of us cheated, not like that. Renee gave her all, like always, like everyone is expected to do during practice." She managed to say that without looking over at Andrew for once. "Second? You're not ready for Andrew."

"But-"

"No." Wilds scowled at Hurst while she rested her fists on her hips. "You lost. I don't know why you thought you'd win when Meg's a sophomore and has played in collegiate games, in play-off games against the best teams in our division." Her expression softened a little. "That's nothing against you, Sheena, it just means that you need to learn and gain some experience. So focus on training, okay?"

"But I'm the offensive dealer, not her," Hurst ground out. "I'm not gonna be sitting on the bench all year!"

"Grow the hell up," Curtis snapped, which seemed to surprise several Foxes with the virulence in her voice as she stomped over to get in Hurst's face. "You think I can't be an offensive dealer? I've been playing in _scrimmages_ for months at Edgar Allan, and that means I'm the only dealer on my team - you adapt and you learn if you're going to get ahead."

Kevin nodded. "She's right, you have to be flexible and good if you want the- Tetsuji to allow you take part in the daily matches."

That didn't seem to be what Hurst wanted to hear, and she was even more of a pain in the ass on Friday, while Matheson amped up his whole 'I'm better than you' attack on Yee in an effort to prove that he should be the starting striker come fall. Andrew merely sat on the bench or leaned against his racquet during it all, unless he was forced to be in the goal, and then he actually bothered to block the shots just to prove to the newbies that they really didn't know shit.

"Perhaps we can send the rookies to USC," he told Neil on Saturday; he was back in the donut shop's parking lot, still a little bleary-eyed even after a few donuts and a double-shot of espresso in his large mocha latte since it had been a bit more indulgent night than usual at Eden's. "They're gullible enough to take 'em in."

That drew a tired laugh from his little bird. "It might actually work. So I take it that you're having 'fun', too."

Andrew inhaled a lungful of smoke and held it in for a couple of seconds. "I think Kevin picked the most annoying recruits possible this year. Which is saying something, since you were a former choice."

There were two variations of 'fuck you's in the background while Neil chuckled. "Aw, I'm no longer special, how will I live on with the disappointment?"

"I'm sure you'll manage, at the least to annoy me." Andrew sipped his coffee while Neil hummed in agreement.

"There is that. I need to get my amusements where I can." Neil was quiet for a moment while poetic Patel said something too faint to make out. "So, I hear that one of the freshmen seems to think that she's better than Meg." All traces of humor was gone from Neil's voice.

"She complain to you?" Andrew asked as he picked up a jelly donut; grape, which wasn't his favorite but bearable.

"No, she made a comment or two to Marley. Just how bad is this Hurst, hmm?" Now there was an audible amount of darkness in the little bird's voice, and Andrew was willing to bet there was that chilling smile on Neil's face as well.

"Not enough for me to warn you, yet. Curtis is handling slapping her down, as well as Wilds. Hurst is noisy and delusional, but she's all bluster." Else Andrew would step in.

There was quiet over the line before Neil let out a slow breath. "Okay, then Meg can handle her."

"That's what I said," Andrew pointed out with a hint of weariness. “Are you deaf?”

“No, just not good at listening, apparently,” Neil told him with some of his habitual cockiness restored. “So, what’s your question since it’s your turn?” For once he seemed curious rather than cautious.

Andrew paused for another piece of donut. “Frenchie said something to Kevin which got him all bothered when you were here last time. I want to know what it was.” He wanted to know what secret Kevin was hiding from him so it didn’t cause him too much work at a later time.

“Eh….” Neil spoke in a rush of French to Moreau, something along the lines of ‘should we tell him?’, only for Moreau to snap back ‘no way in hell’ and for Patel (there once again, it seemed) asking what was going on. “Okay, it’s not my story to tell,” Neil said after a quick debate. “Sorry.” That time he was a bit more apologetic about it.

Andrew tried again. “It’s my job to protect him, which I can’t do if I’m blindsided by things.”

“This has nothing to do with the Moriyamas,” Moreau called out. “Or… well, not much. It’s Kevin being a fool and a coward, and that’s all I’ll say to you.”

That didn’t sound like anything new, so Andrew chewed on some sweet pastry while he waited to see if anything else was forthcoming. When it was quiet for almost a minute, he cleared his throat. “Is Tetsuji planning any surprises for us this semester?”

“Not that I know about,” Neil admitted. “And he’s been warned against any negative publicity. Right now, he’s just pushing us hard so no one can call us lacking without Riko on the court.” The little birdy sounded tired and bitter about that, but no more than usual. No more than he had at any point last season.

“All right.”

They spent a few more minutes talking about general things (upcoming class schedules, more complaints about the freshmen, Neil looking forward to twenty-four hour days again, Andrew detesting the six am morning practices) before they ended the call so Neil could get some much needed rest. If that twenty minutes or so had been the best part of Andrew’s week, had been when he felt the most alive, had dealt with so much emotion and-

He found it _truly_ annoying when Bee was right about things.

What was even more annoying was – despite the approaching six-fucking-am workouts and Aaron counting down until their joint therapy sessions again, despite the upcoming games and having to put up with Kevin and baby Foxes during the actual season… fall semester meant that Andrew was that much closer to seeing a certain little bird again. To feeling the heady rush as the hollowness inside of his chest was filled with warmth and that damn tingling sensation at the sight of a slightly smirking redhead, blue eyes flashing with challenge as they gazed back at him.

He should hate how much his insides twisted at the thought of seeing Neil, how much he _craved_ it. He’d just gotten one drug out of his system, and now was hooked on something else, something stronger and much more likely to leave him ruined in its wake. After all, look at what he’d done to himself for Cass.

But Neil didn’t ask anything from him (had turned down his offers, even). Neil seemed to understand his boundaries, even, to respect his barriers and ‘not past this line’. Everything Andrew wanted… and so far away, so far out of reach.

At least for another couple of months.

*******

Despite leaving Meg behind at Palmetto State, Neil had been in a somewhat good mood before returning to Edgar Allan – Meg seemed to be in good hands with the Foxes, who had made an effort to welcome her onto the team, and… well… _Andrew_. He’d been so certain that Andrew hadn’t wanted anything to do with him anymore, only to find out differently. There was a sense of concern for his friend over the lack of emotion he’d seen on Andrew’s face, the missing smiles (mania) and snappy retorts, but at least the other youth had appeared healthy and calm.

It was odd, being with Jean and Marley (and Bren) without Meg, something Neil would have to grow accustomed to, but they’d used the flight back to talk about a few things, to plan how they wanted to approach the upcoming season. So while Bren munched on his large take-away of chips and Jean and Marley had enough caffeine to keep them up for hours, Neil sipped a cup of tea while he updated Ichirou on everything. He kept his voice even upon learning that Ichirou would be in Charleston soon, and wished his lord a good day.

It was right before ‘morning’ practice when they returned (which meant it was a really good thing that Jean and Marley drank all that coffee), and while they went to change into their clothes (along with Janna), Neil headed straight to Tetsuji’s office with Bren at his heels. Nakamura was in the outer office and stood up from his desk as if to stop Neil, but paused after a moment’s consideration.

“Smart man,” Bren told him with a smirk.

Neil was ‘courteous’ enough to knock twice before he went into his coach’s office (not his Master, not anymore), and gave the slightest of bows when Tetsuji looked up from the notebook on his desk with a hint of a frown on his broad face. “ _Have you forgotten your manners_?” he asked in Japanese, his deep voice rich with reproach.

“ _I figured I wouldn’t waste your valuable time_ ,” Neil answered. “ _I’m here to discuss Patel’s partner now that we’re short a Raven_.” Short a Raven because of the bastard’s machinations, most likely intended to hurt Neil and prove that he wasn’t beyond Tetsuji’s reach.

“ _And_?” Tetsuji leaned back in his chair. “ _She’s paired with Archer_.”

“ _No, not anymore_.” Neil stood there with his spine straight and chin up, with Bren at his back and Ichirou’s medallion on display as he looked Tetsuji in the eye. “ _Fields will be Archer’s partner from now on, while Patel will move in with Moreau and me_.”

Tetsuji’s dark eyes narrowed at that and he placed the palms of his hands on top of the desk. “ _Fields is a freshman and Archer is a first year upperclassman. Also, you and Moreau are partnered together_.”

“ _The point of the partner system is so that none of the Ravens are alone, so they learn how to play together and work as a team. What’s the difference between one partner and two? If there’s two of us in a room or three_?” Neil argued. “ _And Fields needs a partner, she may learn faster if hers is a senior member of the team._ ” When Tetsuji continued to stare, Neil gave him his father’s smile. “ _We’re a Raven down now because in part of **your** man. Even when Lincoln is dealt with, there’s still the issue of Fields, and if you think I’m going to let you pair her with Dixon, you’re mistaken. Dixon can move in with Loiseau and Mills_.”

It wasn’t that Fields wouldn’t be safe with some of the other Raven guys… it was just that there was precious little privacy in the Nest as is, and so not a good idea to put her with anyone but another woman Raven considering… well, considering everything. Marley didn’t mind rooming with Neil and Jean since she knew they weren’t interested in her at all (or her them), and they trusted each other.

“ _And if I say ‘no’_?”

Neil’s smile sharpened. “ _I’m being ‘nice’ enough to come here to talk to you about this first_.” Meaning that Ichirou had already agreed to back him on it.

Something dark flashed across Tetsuji’s face for a moment, enough to make Bren step up next to Neil, but it vanished before the enforcer had to do more than that. “ _All you are to him is a toy_ ,” he said, his deep voice thick with loathing. “ _And men grow tired of toys eventually_.”

“ _Most likely_ ,” Neil admitted. “ _But you? All you are and ever will be is a discard, something that was thrown away because you weren’t needed. **I** at least have some value to him now_ ,” he pointed out with a wide smile as he tugged on the medallion.

While a rare rage (at least made visible) mottled Tetsuji’s face, Neil turned around to leave the office with a chortling Bren at his side. “So, I think you enjoyed that, you did,” the enforcer said once they were out in the hallway.

“Hmm, a little?” Neil held up his right hand with his thumb and forefinger a small distance apart. “Maybe that much?”

Bren scoffed as he shook his head. “I’d say don’t start shit I have to finish, but I’ve been around you enough to know you’d have done it even if I wasn’t there.”

Neil narrowed his eyes at the man (why did he have to look up at everyone? Well, not Andrew, so almost everyone). “I think you’ve been around _Jean_ too much, that sounds like something he’d say.”

“Nah, he’d be whinging about being stuck with a devil like you. ‘Why do you do these things, you fool of a devil?’” Bren actually managed a semi-decent Jean impersonation, even if his French accent was a bit thick.

“You know Marley’s gonna make you do that all the time once she finds out about it,” Neil warned, which made the enforcer laugh.

Neil grabbed a change of clothes and went to the locker room so he could take part in the morning practice, and noticed the odd looks he got, along with Jean and Marley. It was strange not to have Meg out there with them, but after the last couple of days he was slowly getting used to it.

Everyone was confused by Tetsuji’s late arrival, and there was some surprise over the announcement in the new partners (though Neil had texted Naomi earlier to give her a ‘heads up’). Tollis, of course, seemed determined to prove her displeasure (probably over a perceived favoritism to Marley) on the court, which meant that it was a ‘lively’ scrimmage, which was what Neil needed. He threw himself into the two matches he played before going to help train the freshmen, threw himself into racing up and down the court, into twisting about to catch the ball then fling it to one of his teammates, to do his best to get past Ben in the goal.

Marley would help him with the training while Jean focused on the rest of the Ravens, and it was a bit of a struggle, that new responsibility. While on one hand Neil didn’t feel the ‘burden’ of the rookies as much as he had Marley and Meg, he knew the importance of teaching them the drills and everything else they needed to learn if they wanted to succeed as a Raven. Also, five people was quite the step up from two, and he was exhausted at the end of each practice.

Well, more exhausted.

Ichirou came into town for some sort of ‘meeting’, and had Neil visit him at the mansion again. Neil was bemused to see that some of the antiques had been replaced by more contemporary furniture that someone managed to blend together well with the ostentatious house, and said so to Ichirou.

“I would hope so, considering how much it’s costing,” Ichirou replied, but there was a slight quirk to his lips so Neil didn’t think he minded too much – that or it was too bad of an impact to his wallet.

He accepted a glass of whiskey and there must have been something in his expression because Ichirou continued speaking. “David Wymack released a statement about Meg Curtis transferring to Palmetto State. As of yet, the response has been as you anticipated – surprise and approval over Edgar Allan allowing her out of her contract rather than risk another ‘Riko’ incident.” His lips twitched again as he mentioned his brother, though there was a flatness to his eyes at the same time. “There’s even been talk that it should become a more common practice, as long as certain criteria are met.”

“Yes, I imagine that the schools won’t make it too easy for players to transfer,” Neil agreed before he sipped his whiskey. “What about Lincoln?” The backliner was still hiding in the Ravens’ medical office; Dixon had gone on to room with Loiseau and Jon since it was clear that his partner wasn’t coming back.

Ichirou motioned for Neil to finish his drink before taking the empty glass away. “My people should have already removed him from the Nest, and in a couple of weeks he’ll have had a little accident in that car of his my uncle provided as a signing bonus. Is that acceptable?”

Neil’s breath caught at that. “How… how bad of an accident?” If it was Federov, Neil wouldn’t bother to ask, but Lincoln… was more of a grey area.

“How bad should it be?” Ichirou asked as he brushed the thumb of his right hand along Neil’s ‘4’ tattoo.

“Ah… enough so he can’t play,” Neil decided after a moment’s debate; mostly because he knew it would upset Meg if the young man ended up dead. “And… thank you.”

“I said I’d protect you and your people.” The flatness crept into Ichirou’s voice even though his touch was gentle to Neil’s cheek. “That shouldn’t mean dealing with things after the fact.”

“We didn’t expect something like this,” Neil admitted. Now they would, but it still hurt that they’d learned it after Meg.

“Which is why one of your uncle’s people will be assigned strictly to you, and another to Moreau and Patel,” Ichirou informed him. “That person will remain near you as much as possible, do you understand?” His hand slid into Neil’s hair and fingers tightened on the strands.

“ _Yes, my lord_ ,” Neil breathed out as he fought not to react.

“ _Good._ ” Ichirou used the hold to tilt Neil’s head back for a kiss, one more fervent than usual but his hold gentling as he pulled Neil closer.

If there were a few more marks on Neil’s neck and shoulders than usual that night, he didn’t say anything.  Instead he teased Ichirou about redecorating the Nest next, about doing something in regards to all the black, and was sent on his way after another ardent kiss.

Marley dealt with the freshmen to give him some time to work on drills by himself when he returned to the Nest, and Jean scooped the kale off of his tray when it came time for lunch afterwards. When Neil gave him an incredulous look, his partner merely shrugged. “I’ve decided that you’re enough of a terror as you are. No sense in tempting fate to see if you can grow another inch or two and be an even bigger devil.”

Neil made a rude gesture in his direction, but he was smiling all the while.

It may have been Ellis asking how long it took Riko and Day to learn the Raven drills (and for once no one panicking at the mention of Day) that prompted Jean into action that night. All Neil knew was that they’d returned to their room after dinner (Marley still smug about the small jar of chili powder she’d tucked into the front pocket of her sweatshirt and used on their steamed fish), where he’d expected them to get ready for their private practice out on court, only to watch as Jean went over to the desk which the two of them now shared and picked a French book as if at random from overhead shelf. “ _Here, hide this_ ,” he told Neil as he motioned to Neil’s sweatshirt (an old one of Jean’s, really).

Confused but used to going along with such things, Neil tucked the book beneath the back of his shirt, held in place by the waistband of his sweatpants. “What are we doing?” Marley asked.

“ _Retrieving something valuable_ ,” Jean said as he headed for the door, where Declan and Quentin were standing right outside. The two bodyguards stopped arguing about something and followed them down the hall – to the Black Hall. Neil realized after a minute that Jean was leading them to Riko’s old room.

It was unlocked, as none of the suites had a lock on them, and Jean paused to glance around. “ _Why are we here_?” Neil asked; the room looked as if Riko could come back at any moment, and not just Riko, he realized. It appeared occupied by _two_ people, so Tetsuji must have never sent Kevin Day’s belongings to him when the striker had run away.

“ _Because Kevin left behind something very important and I want to find it_.”

“ _What is it_?” Marley asked as she started to poke around on what looked to be Riko’s side of the room, considering that it was the more unkempt and had a ‘1’ jacket on the bed.

“ _A letter from his mother to Tetsuji_.”

Neil hesitated only a moment before he went over to the more orderly side and pulled out the drawer of the desk so he could look beneath it. “ _Look someplace boring or not too obvious_ ,” he told his friends, having both hidden things from prying eyes in the past and snatched hidden things away himself. “ _Something most people won’t bother to pick up or touch_.”

“Eh? Okay.” Marley started looking around while Jean went to the closet, and snorted as she looked at what must have been Day’s books. “ _He like history much? These would put me to- oh_!” She grabbed one and began flipping through it, and after putting the drawer back, Neil joined her.

" _Kevin's a history major_ ," Jean explained as he joined then in searching through the books. " _Riko always mocked him for picking such a boring subject and talking about such uninteresting things_."

" _Well, I can't say they've been the most exciting classes I've taken, but it beats math or languages_." Marley stuck her tongue out at Neil before she grabbed another book to flip through. " _And physics, that one was- eh? This it?"_ She held up a folded piece of paper.

" _Yes_!" Jean smiled at her as he accepted what looked to be some sort of letter. " _Now let's go, and if anyone asks, I merely wanted an old book of mine that Kevin borrowed_."

" _Wait_ ," Neil said as he put back the books they'd searched through before grabbing one of Kevin's books at random and slipped it beneath his sweatshirt in place of the book Jean was now holding in his left hand - the book which Jean had hidden the letter in so they could smuggle it out of the room. " _In case anyone looks, they'll notice a book is missing_." The little things mattered, as his mother had taught him. If someone had paid enough attention to the actual titles of Day's books then they'd know that Jean was lying... but then again, they'd probably have already gone through Day's stuff and have found the letter, too.

Jean gave him a slight but pleased smile as well. " _Good. Now let's go_."

Declan gave them a curious look when they stepped out of the room, to which Jean held up the book by way of answer, and it was a quiet walk back to their room, where they only passed a couple of other Ravens. Once in their own suite, Jean was careful to place the book containing the letter amongst the rest of his, while Neil hid Day’s in their closet.

“ _So what’s so important about that letter? It have anything to do with the secret that you’re holding over Day’s head_?”

Jean nodded as the two of them sunk down on their bed, and Marley sat at the desk nearby. “ _One day a couple of years ago, Kevin and I found that letter in Tetsuji’s office. His mother had sent it to Tetsuji, and it mentions Kevin’s father_.”

“ _What, really_?” Marley’s eyes widened at that bit of news. “ _That’s like everyone’s favorite guessing game, ‘who’s Kevin Day’s daddy’! I had an old captain back in high school who **swore** it’s Jacobson from the 2000 US Court team_.”

“ _Not quite_.” Jean appeared rather smug at the moment. “ _It’s someone both of you have already met_.” He folded his arms over his chest and arched an eyebrow as if waiting for them to guess.

Marley’s nose wrinkled in disgust. “ _Don’t tell me it’s Tetsuji, that’s sick, so… hmm…. Wait, **no**_!” She looked over at Neil, who had the impression that she’d come to the same conclusion as him.

“ _It’s Wymack, isn’t it_?” Neil sighed, remembering Jean’s sly look at the coach back at Palmetto and Day’s panic. “ _That’s why he went to the Foxes_.”

“ _Yes_.” Jean nodded as he reached over to tug on Neil’s bangs. “ _Wymack trained with his mother, and I never understood why the man hasn’t figured things out after all these years. They even look a bit alike_.”

“ _I guess delusion runs in the family_ ,” Marley said. “ _So how long are you going to hold this over him_?”

“ _We’ll see_.” Jean shrugged a little before he pushed Neil forward. “ _It’s in his best interest to treat Meg right, at the least. Now, time to sleep. Someone has to be ready to train the freshmen in the morning_.”

“ _We should have left **you** behind in South Carolina, too_ ,” Neil whined, and got pushed hard enough to stumble into the bathroom.

It appeared that Andrew had noticed Jean’s little threat against Day, because when it came time for his turn at asking a question (for a truth), it was about the secret. Marley had been rather surprised to find out about the weekly calls (‘you willingly talk to the stunted monkey-fucker? _Really_?’), and there had been odd looks exchanged with Jean after the first Saturday, but she sat and texted with Meg while Neil argued with Jean about telling his friend the truth (Jean decided ‘no’, since Andrew might do something with it if he thought it was to Day’s benefit).

At least Andrew wasn’t pushing for things Neil couldn’t answer anymore, for truths related to Ichirou and the Moriyamas. There were questions about which freshman he tolerated best (Garcia, because the goalie worked hard, was bright and always had a good attitude), his favorite book to read for entertainment (Neil… didn’t have an answer to that one, not really, because he hadn’t been allowed any personal items while on the run and for so long everything was about survival. Reading for escapism was a foreign concept), his favorite band (another non-answer, when long drives had been spent listening to news or talk stations to perfect accents and languages as well as pick up necessary information) and so forth.

Marley gave him a cautious hug after one of the calls, her expression forlorn as her arms wrapped loosely around his shoulders. “Once the semester starts, we’re just… we’ll spend the weekend watching movies on my laptop and listening to music and just doing _normal_ stuff, okay? Even Crusty can join in.”

Neil felt an odd tightness in his chest as he looked up at her and gave a slight smile. “Can we do his nails, too?”

Marley grinned back. “Black and red!”

Jean, still on the bed, made a sound of long-suffering. “I don’t know why God hates me so much.” When Neil went to comment on ‘God’ hating the French, the bastard threw a pillow at him.

With the start of the new season approaching, Jean had to make a decision about the starting line-up soon as there were opening spots for Riko’s position and Bautista’s. Tollis and Karl Engle were battling it out among the strikers, while Leif and Johnson were up for backliner.

Tetsuji could decide… but he seemed to be leaving it up to Jean. One might think that it was a show of faith, but Neil suspected that if his partner chose wrong, Tetsuji could say he had nothing to do with it.

Someone was still playing games.

So Neil stood on the sidelines as Engle and Tollis faced off against each other, with Leif and Loiseau on Tollis’ team, and Johnson with Adams on Engle’s. Marley was on his left and Jean was on his right while they watched the intense scrimmage, with Bren and Declan not too far off on the outer court (probably talking about soccer or ‘work’ gossip).

Tollis was fast and on top of any openings, as well as refused to let the other team’s backliners shove her around. She exemplified the Ravens’ ‘motto’ of precision and power, while Engle relied a little more on the ‘power’ aspect. They both were good at teamwork, and it was a close match.

Johnson had seniority over Leif, had more experience… but he also relied more on brute force and dirty tricks. Neil didn’t think Jean would have a problem in making that decision, and it wasn’t just payback for what had happened… well, it wasn’t just payback.

Even the freshmen paused in working on their drills to watch the match, envy and awe evident on their faces at the skill on display in front of them. When it was done, the players lined up in front of their captain.

Jean nodded to them once. “Hebig, you’ll be starting backliner with me.” The declaration prompted a pleased grin to spread across Leif’s sweaty and flushed face.

“Yes, captain!”

“But he’s not-“

“He’s on the starting line-up,” Jean said, cutting off Johnson’s protest as he stared down the upperclassman. “This isn’t about seniority but the Trojans and the Lions being even more certain they can defeat us this year. We won’t give them any excuses out on court, especially when it comes to referee calls.”

And Johnson’s excessively offensive style of playing? After everything with Riko? That wouldn’t fair well, especially against a team like the Trojans.

When Johnson begrudgingly looked aside, Jean moved on to the strikers. “Tollis.”

“Yes?” She gave him a wary look, considering everything that had happened the previous year.

“Do I need to give a lecture on the importance of cooperation and teamwork?”

“No,” she replied in a slow manner, and then straightened up as she looked at Neil. “No, captain,” she replied in a much firmer manner. “Not at all.”

“Then you’ll be starting striker with Josten,” Jean told her, which made her shoulders slump and a wide grin burst out on her face. Engle didn’t appear happy about the decision, but he didn’t fight it, either.

Tetsuji was quiet for a couple of seconds before calling out new numbers for the line-up, during which Marley let out a heavy breath. “ _I can’t say I’m happy about it, but the bitch did good_.”

“ _Two more years_ ,” Neil assured his friend. “ _Unless you can sweet-talk Bren into kneecapping her before then_.”

Jean didn’t even look aside as he reached over to smack Neil in the back of the head. “ _Don’t give the flea any crazy ideas, you devil. Now go and work with the freshmen, and don’t infect them with your homicidal idea_ s!”

“Someone’s extra crusty today, isn’t he?” Marley stage-whispered as they headed toward the freshmen.

“ _Someone_ needs to remember that Napoleon got his ass handed to him in the end,” Neil called out, and scoffed when he was given a rude gesture for the comment.

It was another long day spent correcting the rookies (Neil didn't know why Fields and Lee acted all flustered around him, sometimes flubbing shots and barely able to concentrate, to the point that he left them to Marley) in-between his own time out on the court. He was looking forward to the start of class, when he'd get a break from having five too-attentive freshmen following him around for most of the day as well as a chance to just... just sit down for a couple of hours once again.

He mentioned that at dinner, and had a forkful of kale shoved in his face for his troubles. "Try dealing with _twenty_ people," Jean told him with a sour (well, even more sour) expression.

Neil batted the fork aside. "The rest of the team aren't freshmen."

"No, but they're all yapping at me, and _eat_ that, you need the vitamins," Jean scolded.

"I _need_ -"

" _Eat_!"

Neil scowled as he forced himself to swallow the detested mush and then made a show of scraping the rest of the kale onto Bren's plate while the enforcer grinned. "It should be easier now that you picked the starting line."

Jean shrugged, appearing in a better mood since he got his way. "We shall see." He gave a pointed look over at where Johnson sat with Dixon, Jon and Loiseau.

On the other hand, Tollis was sitting with Susan, Amy and Sophie, and seemed to be making an effort to be social for once, so some good had come out of Jean's decision. "It's always some sort of drama with you kids," Bren remarked as he cut up his dinner. "I don't miss my shows so much when I'm here."

"Speak for yourself," Declan muttered. "Good thing I can record them, but with this crazy schedule, too tired to watch 'em when I'm home."

"How do you think _we_ feel?" Neil asked as he pushed his rice around on his plate; he perked up when Marley handed over the paprika. "We don't get to just stand around all day."

Bren shuddered for some reason. "I'd hate to think what you'd get up to if you didn't burn off that wicked Hatford energy." Declan joined in on the shuddering.

"Devil," Jean agreed while nodding.

"Fuck you all," Neil told them with a fake smile. "And what's going on?" he asked Marley when she continued to type away on her phone rather than eat and join the ‘pick on Neil’.

"Hmm?" Marley finally looked up with a frown on her face. "Oh, Meg's telling me about how that asshole rookie striker tried to take down Kenny today during practice. Except Kenny's not an easy target and handed him his ass before Dan and Wymack broke them apart." Now she was smiling.

"Matheson, huh?" Meg had been complaining about the freshman for weeks - and it had to be bad, for _Meg_ to be so negative about someone. Well, two someones - Matheson and Hurst.

"Yeah." Marley took to frowning again. "Guess Day is pushing for him to be the starting striker instead of Kenny, but Wymack keeps telling him that Kenny has seniority so to shut up. Meg's working with Kenny to help him out - Kenny says he's learning more from her than he did from Day last summer."

Jean sighed and shook his head. "Kevin is a very talented player... but not a patient teacher if you're not up to his level, which is why I was surprised to hear that the Foxes had accepted him as an assistant coach in the first place when he left here."

"What a surprise, he's an asshole, too," Bren said as he poked at the pile of kale before having more chicken. "Should have let me break his hand."

"Hmm." Jean seemed to consider it before shaking his head. "We'll just beat him on the court, that'll be bad enough to him."

"Yeah, well, he might have to deal with Meg before then." At their curious looks, Marley held up her phone before she set it aside to focus on her dinner. "She's asked Renee to teach her how to fight. Guess Renee practices with the monkey-fucker on the weekends or something, so Meg asked her for some pointers." Something a lot like sadness flashed across Marley's face for a moment. "She wants to be able to better stand up for herself."

Neil thought that Andrew had mentioned something about his 'sessions' with Renee a time or two, when they had pushed back their calls to Sundays, but hadn't asked much about them. "Ah, that's... that's probably not a bad idea." Neil supposed it was better late than never.

"Yeah." The table was quiet for a minute as everyone focused on their meal, and then Marley looked up and smiled, the expression almost predatory. "So, which one of the newbies is gonna be my bitch this year, hmm?"

"Lovely." Jean gave her a disapproving frown even as he glanced over at the table where all of the freshmen sat, along with Naomi. "As ever, I am so proud of you, ma puce."

"You know you adore me, Crusty." Marley blew him a kiss while Declan chuckled. "I'm thinking... Cobb? He's nice and strong, I'm sure he can handle my bags as well as Neil's."

"Why am I being dragged into this?" Neil asked. "I can carry my own bag."

Marley’s smile widened as she glanced over at the freshmen, who were paying too much attention to their table as usual. "Somehow, I doubt that's going to happen, vice-captain."

Neil gave her an even look as he waited for some sort of explanation to that remark. When Marley continued to smirk at him, he grabbed the apple on her tray. "Maybe we _should_ have stuck Fields with you."

"You know you adore me too, Shorty."

“Have you been inhaling those spices or something?”

It wasn’t that much of a surprise when Johnson was even more of a bastard at their evening practice… but it _was_ when Tollis showed up, along with Susan, to the private session which Neil, Jean and Marley still kept before bedtime. Tollis was nervous as she approached them with her partner, her racquet held clutched in her hands, and nodded to Jean then looked at Neil. “I know we don’t always get along and I’m not trying to be best friends. But you can trust me when I say that I want this to work, us being starters for the team.” Her expression was one of pure determination. “We’re not going to lose a single game this year.”

Neil glanced at Jean, who nodded in approval. “We’re Ravens, the team and the game always come first,” their captain said. “Susan, let’s show them a proper defense.”

Susan grinned at that as she hurried into the goal. “This is going to be fun.”

Neil didn’t know about ‘fun’, but it certainly was exhausting as hell, and his brain hurt a little from switching back and forth between English, French and Russian. Jean and Susan worked hard to guard the goal from three dogged strikers, and at first were aided by the fact that Neil and Marley were working more against than with Tollis (and she them). But by the end of their session, there was the beginning of teamwork between the three of them.

As Tollis had said, Neil doubted they would ever be best friends, but they were Ravens and they were determined to win, to see their team on to victory. They knew they had each other’s backs when they were out on the court and that was good enough.

Which was important, because Neil knew that the other teams in the Class I division were looking at taking away the Ravens’ title as the champions with Riko gone, at defeating them now that they were ‘weak’. Everyone seemed to forget that the Ravens had been undefeated before Riko and Day, had dominated the division basically since Tetsuji had formed the team, so why did they think that the Ravens would falter now? Yes, Riko had been talented, had been one of the best players out there, but he had been one player out of many and in a way had held back a lot of potential.

The Ravens would prove everyone wrong – all the posters on the Exy forums and social media and the sports channels and everywhere else – come fall.

A couple of weeks before the start of the semester, Jean (and Neil) were notified that they were to go to Chicago for a photo shoot and article on the Big Three teams in the NCAA Class I division – the captains from USC and Penn State would be there as well. It would just be an overnight trip and Neil was tagging along per the whole ‘partner’ thing, so Janna remained at Edgar Allan to watch over Marley while he, Jean and Bren as well as Nakamura left for what usually had been one of Riko’s duties.

They checked in to the Langham hotel (another expensive suite which Neil, Jean and Bren would share), where they left their overnight bags before meeting at a much less expensive hotel on the waterfront where Jeremy Knox and Tracy Perez from USC and Nick Cavish and Jake Simmons from Penn State were already waiting.

Neil had met Knox before, but not Perez, one of the Trojans’ assistant coaches; she was a former pro backliner who had retired a few years ago and had a friendly smile to go with her firm handshake, her physique still in great shape and dark blonde pulled back in a slick ponytail. She nodded to Nakamura as if she knew him and gave Bren a curious look but didn’t question his presence, nor Neil’s.

He hadn’t met anyone from Penn State since the Ravens hadn’t played the school last year, and he wasn’t impressed with the almost-sneer directed his way by Nick Cavish, the tall, broad-shouldered offensive dealer with the dark brown hair and eyes. “What, you brought along a mascot, Moreau? Is he like a service dog or something? You Ravens and your anxiety issues if no one’s around to hold your hand, right?” Off to the side, his assistant coach – Simmons – chuckled at the insult, while Knox scowled.

“I see not even making it to the semi-finals last year has made you even more unpleasant than usual, Cavish,” Jean sniffed. “It’s going to be such a disappointment, ending your university career as a failure.”

Cavish’s unremarkable face became mottled with anger at that while Knox grinned in delight and Bren shuffled a little closer to Neil. “You’re only here because Moriyama went crazy from having such a swollen head, Moreau, I wouldn’t-“

“And _you’re_ only here because the Ravens always helped to knock down the competition in the northeast district for you. Now you’re on your own and you can’t handle it by yourself – you survived by hiding in our shadow,” Neil taunted. “You can’t face all the other teams alone and then meet the Ravens as equals, like the Trojans, can you?”

“Huh, for a ‘mascot’, I’d say he has some teeth, don’t you think?” Knox taunted his fellow captain.

“Shut the hell up,” Cavish snapped while Moreau gave him a haughty look and Bren muttered about ‘crazy Hatfords’ beneath his breath. “And we’re going to take that damn title away from you, just you wait!” he told Jean and Neil. “Rumor has it that your old buddy Day is back in winning form, so we can all sit back and watch you get taken down by one of your own!” He grinned at that as he turned around. “Let’s get this started, I’ve better things to do than hang out with some nutcase’s lapdogs all day.”

Neil watched the prick walk away with narrow eyes. “Him? You can get as slap-happy as you want with _him_ ,” he told Bren.

“Yeah, I figured that,” the enforcer said as he cracked the knuckles on his right hand.

“ _No witnesses_ ,” Jean murmured in French.

Knox gave them a confused look as he came over. “Ah, I’m sorry about, but you’re right in that Nick’s being an asshole about the Lions’ not making it to the semi-finals.” He smiled up at Jean, as always focusing on Neil’s partner. “Congratulations on making captain!” Then his expression grew a little rueful. “Uhm, I’m sorry about the situation and all, but I really feel that you’re the right person for the job. I mean, you’re a really good player and so dedicated and….” He grew flustered as Jean continued to give him a flat look in return.

Despite himself, Neil felt a little sorry for the guy. “Ah, maybe Knox can help you with some advice?” he offered while Bren seemed to turn a snigger into a cough. “Since he’s been a captain for a while?”

Knox seized on the opportunity and nodded hard enough that his head had to hurt. “Yes! I can-“ He seemed to realize that he was all but shouting and cleared his throat as he ran a hand through his styled hair. “I, ah, I’ll give you my number and email and everything before we leave, all right? You can ask me _anything_.” It was clear he was trying to go for nonchalant and failing miserably.

Jean continued to stand there without displaying any emotion for a couple of seconds before there was a slight (very slight) thaw. “That… may be of some use to me. Thank you.”

“Of course!” Now Knox was beaming (oh, Marley was going to be _livid_ that she missed out on this). “I got to be vice-captain for a year before everything was dumped on me, which really helped out, and I can always call Tony with any questions I might have. It’s only fair that you have someone to help you out, too. Now come on, let’s get this over with, yeah?” He gestured over to where a glowering Cavish and a couple of other people were standing, along with some empty chairs and a bunch of lights.

“Yes.” Jean nodded and the two young men went off together for their interview and photographs.

“So…,” Bren drawled as he and Neil remained out of the way. “You trying to make trouble or what?”

Neil shrugged as he pulled out his phone to ask Marley to look into the whole ‘Day’ thing. “Honestly? I don’t think Jean’s going to do anything about Knox, but he could at least use someone to talk to about captain stuff with since Tetsuji dumped it on him with no prep.” There had been that conversation of theirs back in New York, after all, where Jean had made it seem that while he did want someone, he wasn’t inclined to see it through.

But what was wrong with providing an opportunity for Jean to change his mind? If anyone deserved some happiness, it was Jean.

Bren gave him a long, steady look before huffing. “Okay, we’ll go with that.” He bumped into Neil hard enough to make Neil stumble a couple of steps.

They were there for a couple of hours while the three captains were asked questions about the upcoming season and posed for a couple of pictures; during that time Marley replied back to Neil during a break in training that there were some posts on the rookie Foxes’ media accounts dating back a few weeks about Kevin Day along the lines of ‘watch out’, ‘incredible’, ‘just like old times’ and so forth. They’d stopped posting such things, at least in regards to the striker, but still indicated that the Foxes were going to be difficult to beat once the season started.

Marley asked Neil if he wanted her to ask Meg what was going on, but Neil didn’t want to put their friend on the spot now that she was a Fox. He could always use one if his turns with Andrew… but again, he didn’t want to do such a thing, to make it seem as if he was using a friendship to get ‘inside’ information like that when they were technically rivals. Andrew didn’t ask him about how he planned to play a game or their line-up, after all, so he wanted to respect the professionalism they had in regards to Exy (even if it was probably more along the lines of Andrew not giving a damn about the sport).

If Day was back to playing like he had while a Raven… then they’d deal with it. In a way, it made Neil even more excited for the upcoming season, despite Day being the better player, because it was a challenge, was a way to push himself even harder and learn more. He’d never be as good a technical player as Day, especially not when Day had practically grown up playing Exy, but it still gave him a goal to aim for, a target to set his sights on.

Exy was his life now, was his present and future. His body was covered with bruises from the daily matches against his own teammates, his muscles conditioned from all the hours spent out on court, his hands calloused from holding onto a racquet for so long. He didn’t know what it felt like to not spend almost all of his day running and swinging things and dodging about, in not being worn out from pushing himself to his limits.

He had another four years at Edgar Allan and then however many years his body held out in the pro league (with the New York Barons, Jean surmised, since the Moriyamas owned a percentage of that team). As a child he’d dreamed of playing Exy, now it was an expectation, an obligation. He despised being owned, in having no freedom… but it hadn’t lessened his love for the game.

If he had no choice but to devote his life to Exy, then he was going to be the best at it that he possibly could be, would strive for near perfection and Court. Everything else had been taken away from him, but not that – he refused to let it happen. So he and the Ravens would face Day and whatever new challenges were thrown at them and prove to everyone that they were just as strong if not stronger without Riko leading them (tearing them apart). They would create a new legacy.

What else did Neil have?

*******

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was such a bridge chapter. Meh. Probably why it took forever for it to get written. But OMFG the NEXT chapter. That's going to be the big one. Then after that I really need to start alternating with the First Breath sequel.
> 
> So a peek at the new Foxes? And how things are gonna go for them in the upcoming season?
> 
> And some restructuring among the Ravens, too.
> 
> There's probably more I should say, but...?
> 
> As always, the comments and kudos are appreciated!


	16. The Kill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm, the last chapter? The Foxes and the Ravens geared up for summer practice and their new freshmen, and all the fun that brought to the teams. The Ravens dealt with Jean moving into the captain position (and Neil into vice-captain), with Jean having to decide who will take over the spots on the starting line, and Neil working with the freshmen (along with Marley). The Foxes? Things are not going so smoothly there as half the freshmen are arrogant and the other half unsure of themselves, creating friction on the team.
> 
> And that sets them up for the start of the new season!
> 
> As always, thanks to Fall-for-the-Game for the beta!
> 
> Triggers? Mention of throwing up, involuntary drug use, and... I think that's it? At least for anything new. Still the existing ones, of course.
> 
> And maybe some of you saw this coming... maybe not.  
> *******

******

Despite the pressure on the Ravens to move forward without Riko Moriyama as their captain and star player, Neil was grateful for the start of the fall semester, for the return of classes and normal days. He and Marley had matched up their schedule as much as possible (had signed up for a Biology and an Art class together to get two shared requirements out of the way), and she’d decided to ‘take’ French for her language the same time as his Japanese class even though she’d gotten pretty decent at speaking it due to all the extra practices and weekends she spent with him and Jean (she wasn’t going to complain about the easy grade). It was much like Neil finishing up his second year of Japanese, though he did need to learn the written language as well as he’d mastered the spoken.

That left him alone for one of his requirements for his linguistic degree, which was near the same building as Jean’s French lit class, so none of them were very far from each other for long and should make their bodyguards’ job a bit easier. Not that Bren and the others could follow them into class, but they would be close enough should there be any problems, at least that’s what Bren told them at dinner the night before classes started, especially when he made Neil hand over his phone to install some tracking software.

“Keep the damn thing charged and on you at all times.” For once there were no traces of humor or good mood in the enforcer’s demeanor. “Or I’m gonna get one of those things they put in cats and tag you, okay?” Bren gave him an even look as he slid Neil’s phone back over the table. “You’re little, it shouldn’t be much trouble to cuff you and stick it in the back of your neck.”

“Oooh, I think that’s a _challenge_ ,” Marley said while Janna tried to hide a smile behind her hand. “Does he know how squirmy you are? I mean, has he seen you out on court?”

“I’ll tag _you_ , too,” Bren threatened. “I’ll even do Frenchie over there,” he said with a nod to a glowering Jean. “Now give me your phones.”

“You should just save yourself the trouble and ‘tag’ him now,” Jean said as he handed over his phone. “Devils _always_ cause trouble.”

“Have I mentioned lately how much I hate all of you?” Neil asked as he stole Jean’s orange. “Because I do, I really, _really_ do.”

“What’s cytokinesis?” Marley asked him with a too-sweet smile.

“Uh.…” Neil paused in peeling the orange as he wracked his brain for several seconds before giving up and shrugging; he had a feeling she was making fun of his shaky grasp of science, another casualty of constantly switching schools while on the run for so many years. He’d only managed to ‘graduate’ his senior year because the last year of science had been physics and largely a blow-off class at that, especially if one was in a sports program.

Well, that and Tetsuji had pulled some strings to get the school to issue him a diploma after he’d up and left in a hurry.

“Hate me after I save your ass _yet again_ this semester.” Marley laughed when he threw an orange peel at her.

Neil reminded the freshmen about ‘behaving’ themselves (sticking with their partner and other Ravens as much as possible, not being too social, basically going to their classes and then returning to the Nest without any dawdling) the next day so they didn’t get into any trouble with Tetsuji, things that the other players had done as well, especially Naomi. Per their lower rank, the others had also started taking ‘advantage’ of the rookies as errand ‘boys’ (people?), having them fetch snacks and drinks or whatever they needed, and now they’d be running all over campus and carrying bags while on trips to away games.

There were the new championship banners out on the campus, and Neil saw a couple of ‘memorials’ for Riko as well, pictures of the prick and his number on posters. He wanted to tear them all down but forced himself to look away while Marley muttered about ‘shit-turds’ beneath her breath. Part of him realized that most people didn’t know the truth about Riko, didn’t know that he’d nearly crippled the closest thing he had to a real brother (Ichirou was that only by birth) and had destroyed so many lives, would have continued destroying them if he hadn’t been stopped. They only saw the Exy prodigy and champion, the smiling face for the cameras and regal figure in black and red.

Well, Riko was gone, was probably drugged out of his mind at the moment or wishing that he was since his days were winding down, and Neil felt a sort of smugness at the thought that the memorials would be replaced by ones for the prick’s demise soon enough.

 And soon enough everyone was talking about the game on Friday, about the Ravens playing Breckenridge. The ERC had pit the district’s two best teams against each other (relatively speaking) to start off the season, and Breckenridge was hoping for some sort of redemption, especially with Riko gone.

Neil had a feeling that he was going to grow very tired of the whole ‘the Ravens are going to fail without their star player’ bullshit that everyone seemed determined to throw in their faces. They hadn’t failed when they lost Kevin Day, who was a stronger player than Riko. They hadn’t failed at the end of last season, when Riko was clearly breaking down. They sure as hell weren’t going to fail now, when they’d spent all summer working their asses off to move forward without the psycho.

They were _Ravens_ – they didn’t quit no matter what, they worked together as a whole and they strove for perfection. Yes, Riko (and Day) had been a big part of their team, but they had been one (and two) out of almost thirty players. Tetsuji was a sadistic bastard, but he recruited the best players he could find and he dug the talent out of them (when he didn’t break them).

Now that Avery wasn’t fighting Neil all of the time (Neil or Marley), they were functioning well out on the court – better than he had with Riko, in fact. There wasn’t a conflict of egos where he had to constantly feed the shots to his ‘king’, but where whoever had the best chance of making the goal took it. Karl was still a little bitter about not being a starting player, but he also realized that without Riko on the court (and insisting that Jean and Neil play full games), he had more of a chance to play and wouldn’t be ‘penalized’ if he took the opportunity to see a goal through. The strikers had a renewed confidence as well as a sense of cooperation amongst themselves, instead of the fractured mess Riko had reduced them to in the last couple of years.

Jean… Jean was doing what he could for the defensive line. He and Leif were working well together, and now that they weren’t being targeted by Riko anymore, Lee and Jon were showing promise. Even Dixon was slowly coming along. The problem was Johnson and Loiseau, who still gave Jean as much trouble as possible.

The freshmen were anxious come Friday, were jittery and even more difficult to get to focus on their drills (even though they weren’t in the game), so Neil let Marley run them around the Nest fetching various items for the three of them (spare gear, sports drinks, things like that) until it was time for the team to show up for pre-game prep. As they headed to the lounge for a final review of Breckenridge’s stats, Bren let Neil know that Ichirou was up in the East Tower and wanted to see him after the game.

Neil wasn’t surprised, and at least he didn’t have to deal with Riko’s abuse anymore on top of everything else.

Nakamura and Jean went over the Jackals’ line-up (Neil was pleased to see that the ‘Gorilla’ had graduated) for the night and their stats, and ensured that the Ravens were prepared before they got dressed so they could warm up before the game. Marley was a sub striker for the night, along with Karl and Toby, and flashed Neil a grin while she headed to the women’s locker room with Susan, Sophie, Amy, Fields and Avery.

“ _Be careful_ ,” Jean told him as they changed. “ _Try to contain your usual devil self for once, on the court and off_.” He glanced upward as he spoke the last word.

“ _He should be here for business_ ,” Neil said. “ _It’ll be fine_.” When Jean snorted in derision at that, Neil sighed. “ _I haven’t caused any trouble in… uhm… a month or two_?” Right?

“ _Which means you’re long overdue_ ,” Jean declared with a weary expression.

Neil made a rude gesture at his ‘dear’ captain before he slammed his locker shut.

The stadium seats were already well on their way to being filled when they went out to warm up, Jean directing the team to run laps in the inner ring while the Jackals had access to the outer ring. Once that was done, Neil oversaw everyone practicing some drills while his partner went off to ‘make nice’ with Breckenridge’s captain for a few minutes, Tetsuji a looming, quiet presence off to the side (along with Bren and Quentin, who were dressed up as assistant coaches) as he eyed everyone’s progress.

“Is it… is it always this noisy?” Cobb asked as he gaped at the people up in the seats who were stomping whenever Neil or some of the upperclassmen fired on the goal.

“Wait until the game starts,” Marley told him. “Then it gets _really_ loud.”

Neil got pulled away to join Jean for a quick pre-game interview (yet again the ‘issue’ was raised about the Ravens moving forward without Riko, and Neil forced himself to just smile and say something about the team being ready for a good game). Unlike last year, he felt confident about his place on the team (and didn’t have a threat looming over his head), felt sure of his fellow players and knew it would be an exciting night.

He felt as if he belonged following Jean out onto the court when it was time for the game to start, the Ravens’ theme song blasting through the air and the crowd stomping their feet while they clapped their hands in unison, a thunderous wave of approval and applause that wormed its way into Neil’s very bones. He ignored the intimidating glares that the Jackals gave him with ease, and as soon as Sophie fired off the ball down the away side of the court when the buzzer rang out, he was chasing after it.

After all of the full games from last season, it was almost laughable, playing only about half quarters at a time against the Jackals, of stepping back in when he was rested and had a chance to watch the other team from a distance. Avery, as expected, ran with the chance to take such a prominent role on the team, while Karl and Toby reveled in having more time out on court. Neil and Marley handled the fourth quarter, along with Jean and Leif, when Ren was out in the goal to start putting in some necessary game time in preparation of Susan’s graduation at the end of the year.

Breckenridge was out on the court with all of their dirty tactics and their players doing their best to rough up Neil and Marley and Avery, taking full advantage of their greater height and weight. It wasn't anything that Neil (and the others) weren't used to by then, that he didn't put up with on a daily basis from his own team. So he smiled and laughed and fired off insults at the bastards, taunted them as he refused to go down (stay down) beneath their body checks and attempted trips and slams against the wall and floor. A few more bruises were nothing to him at that point, not when the points steadily rose in the Ravens' favor.

The crowd roared when the final buzzer rang out and the Ravens had won by nine points over what had previously been the best team in the southeast district, in the Ravens’ first game without their 'king'. Neil couldn't stop grinning as he hung on Jean's left side, a rare slight smile hovering on his partner's lips, while Marley yelled in glee next to them. Avery was the happiest he'd ever seen her and kept hugging Susan, and Jean allowed the team a couple of minutes to show their joy in their victory (in proving their naysayers wrong) before he called for them to line up so they could shake hands with the Jackals (Jean muttering all the while about 'devils' as Neil gave the disgruntled team a cocky grin while they glowered back at him).

He and Jean had to sit through the post-game interview (ah, the fun of being a vice-captain), and that time... that time Neil didn't bite his tongue when someone from a local news affiliate brought up their 'lucky' win. "You did surprisingly well tonight, all things considered," the middle-aged man dressed in a white button-down shirt said, his tone exceedingly condescending. "It's rather fortunate that-"

"Excuse me." Neil leaned toward the row of microphones in front of him and Jean with a hint of a smile on his face. "'Surprisingly well'? 'Rather fortunate'?" Next to him, Jean let out a slow breath and gave a slight shake of his head as if he had an idea of what was to come. "Did you watch the same game that we played in or what? We did more than 'surprisingly well' and it was more than 'fortune' that allowed us to kick the ass of one of the best teams in this district and the entire division."

"But I-"

He didn't allow the guy to speak as his smile sharpened. "All week long - no, actually, all summer long we've put up with people saying how we're going to fail with Riko gone, how we're nothing without him." He pulled at the front of his jersey to show the Raven emblem. "Excuse me, but this has a big black bird on it, right?" There were nervous twitters from the various reporters gathered in the room. "It's not a picture of Riko Moriyama, nor is it Kevin Day. What makes everyone think we're nothing without those two, huh? The Ravens were champions before them and will be now that they're gone. This team has always been more than two people, as incredible as they might be, and Riko always pushed us to be our best." He gave the one reporter a slight sneer. "That's what you saw out there tonight, was us being our _best_ , not luck. Unless you want to go tell Breckenridge that they just smacked down because of 'bad luck'. I'm sure they'll appreciate it so much."

It was quiet for a few seconds after he sank back in his chair before another reporter cleared his throat and spoke up. "So you're saying that the Ravens are determined to hold on to the championship title this year?"

Neil gave him an incredulous look before glancing at Jean. "That was English just now, right?"

Jean sighed as he rubbed his forehead. "What my esteemed and passionate vice-captain means is, _yes_." He gave the man one of his more potent disdainful looks. "Our line-up changes every year, but our goals don't. If another team believes that they'll take our title away from us, they're gravely mistaken."

There were a few more questions after that, most asking what Jean felt about the new line-up and possible challenges for the year, but no more snide remarks that made it seem like the Ravens had barely won or would be lucky to continue to win in the future.

Although there _was_ a remark about the Foxes’ win against the Ospreys earlier, and Kevin Day, which Neil filed away for later, but then it was time for him to wash off at last and head up to the East Tower while Jean enjoyed a well-earned soak. As they left the press conference, he received a cool look from Tetsuji, who stepped forward to take over answering questions, which Neil returned with a version of his father's smile.

Bren gave him a gingerly pat on the back while they left the locker room. “So, it’s not just the old man there you like to wind up, eh? Figure it’s a free-for-all now?”

“I’m not going to just stand there and let them insult my team,” Neil argued as he folded his arms over his chest. “I bust my ass out on that court every day, I’m not going to be put down by people who won’t even face me on it.”

“Yeah, you’re a Hatford all right,” Bren sighed, but he smiled as he patted Neil again. “Least I should be able to snap a few bones soon, if you’re gonna be mouthing off like that.”

“Whatever makes you happy,” Neil muttered.

Ichirou was waiting for him with a glass of whiskey in hand, which Neil accepted with a slight nod. "To an impressive start of the season," the young lord said by way of a toast as he lightly knocked their glasses together.

"Thank you." Neil summoned a smile before he sipped the alcohol. "Hopefully it'll put to rest a lot of doubts about us."

"As will your interview." There was a ghost of a smile hovering on Ichirou’s lips as well, one more amused than Neil's.

"Ah... you saw that?" Oh hell, there were a couple of televisions scattered around the large room, and in the office as well – why hadn’t Neil thought about that?

"Yes." Ichirou's smile widened as Neil gulped down the whiskey. "I think that man will be more careful about what he asks you in the future."

"Maybe," Neil sputtered as he tried to figure out if Ichirou was upset or not. "That's if Tetsuji lets me sit in any interviews again."

"Hmm, I think he will." Ichirou finished his drink then set aside their empty glasses, his demeanor appearing more amused than anything. “’Righteous indignation’ seems to be popular, especially when you and your team have the skill to back it up.” He reached out to thread his fingers through Neil’s hair and tilt his face upward. “People are attracted to a bit of fire, especially when it’s encompassed in such an attractive package.”

Neil wasn’t certain about that last part, but he wet his lips while he stared into Ichirou’s dark gold eyes. “What about you? Do you like a bit of fire?” he dared to ask in an attempt to figure out where he stood with his ‘lord’.

There was a slight, pleased smile on the man’s face as he stepped closer. “I like how I can bring it to heel,” he proclaimed before leaning in for a kiss that left Neil more dazed than the shot of whiskey. After a minute or two, they made their way to the small bedroom.

For once there wasn’t the usual numbness when Ichirou was done, just a bone-deep exhaustion which made Neil want to close his eyes and sleep despite the soiled sheets and the need to shower, the scent of Ichirou clinging to his skin. More than anything he looked forward to being able to curl up on his own bed the next day, on sheets which bore his and Jean’s scents, beneath the two quilts and be warm as he ever got and enjoy more than a handful of hours of sleep (for the first time since the championship game, since Riko had been admitted). Still, he forced himself to smile at Ichirou and lean into another kiss, to joke about the next gift he’d bring back (a yellow jacket or some other type of insect since they’d be playing that team, to go with the bear cub he’d gotten in Chicago – much to Ichirou’s amusement).

Bren was quiet for once while they returned back to the Nest, Neil swearing that he could feel the weight of Evermore upon him as they descended beneath the stadium, could feel the cold sink into his flesh and bones, and Jean only paused to give him a gentle touch to his left cheek when Neil entered the room before stepping out of the way of the bathroom. Neil could hear his friends’ voices as he stood beneath the hot water in the shower, could hear them enter the room to leave him a change of clothes and take away his old ones, but they allowed him the time he needed to wash away Ichirou and find some semblance of peace.

Neil felt something akin to contentment when he left the bathroom to find Marley offering a mug of Darjeeling tea to him and Jean on their bed wrapped up in his quilt with Neil's set out next to him. Neil settled down and sipped the warm beverage while his partner wrapped the soft blanket around his shoulders.

"Okay, so here's the Foxes’ game." Marley came over with her laptop to sit next to Neil, the screen positioned so all three of them could see the Foxes’ and Ospreys’ game from earlier that night. "Here's what everyone's talking about."

As soon as the game started, it was clear that Kevin Day had regained the ability to play with his left (dominant) hand, his throws appearing as accurate and as powerful as during his days as a Raven - as in the days pre-dating Riko breaking his hand (pre-dating the 'skiing' accident). "He _is_ a stubborn fool," Jean remarked with a slight amount of affection. "It shouldn't be that much of a surprise, considering that he even managed to play again in the first place."

"It's why he's the best striker out there," Neil agreed. "It'll make him more of a challenge." One Neil looked forward to playing in late October, according to the schedule finally released by the ERC.

"Hmm." Jean motioned to Marley to fast forward the game. " _Kevin_? Yes. The Foxes....? Not so much, at least this year."

Marley frowned at that, at least at first, and then focused on the game. "Ohh...." She chewed on a fingernail as they watched various parts of the game, mindful of the late hour (for them) and their morning practice, and spotted the moments where the Foxes' offense and defense broke down with ease. "They're a lot more fractured this year. The freshmen aren't integrated at all, are they? Why did they rush them onto court like that?"

"Not much of choice with the strikers?" Neil guessed. "Though it probably would have been better for Day and Yee to play full games for the first month or so until Matheson calmed down some more than to put up with him fighting Yee so much." That wouldn't happen with the Ravens - no one got out onto court until they proved that they earned that right, until they proved that they could function as part of the team. As much as Marley and Avery had fought off of the court last year, there had been no friction between them once that buzzer had sounded for an official game.

"Huh, guess everyone's right about the Foxes being a dysfunctional mess, right? Poor Meg." Marley shook her head as she got up to return the laptop to her desk. "Still, she seems happy there, Hurst and Matheson aside."

The few texts that Neil had gotten from her (more a matter of that he was too busy to 'talk' than a lack of desire to stay in touch with Meg, especially when Marley and Andrew kept him up to date with her) indicated that she was doing well at PSU, that she was happy to have Yee around all the time and had even been able to go home for a weekend right before the start of classes. He missed her, missed her bright outlook on things (and her attempts to eat his vegetables), but on the whole... he knew she was better off with the Foxes.

Exhausted from the game, they went to sleep after that, and Neil didn't wake up until morning. The Ravens (or most of them) were still energized from their win the night before and threw themselves into their morning practice and the following workout without much encouragement from Jean, though Neil found the freshmen more wearying than usual.

When it came time for his weekly call with Andrew, he was once more wrapped up in the quilt with a mug of tea in hand, his back against the wall with Jean's head in his lap as his partner read a book for a class assignment. Across the room, Marley worked on the lab assignment for Biology (she'd agreed to do most of the work in that class, while Neil would take care of their Art elective since he found himself enjoying it so far).

"Wow, you won your first game of the season," Neil stated by way of 'hello'. "Bet there was a lot of money lost on that one."

"Why do I talk to you again?" Andrew's voice wasn't _quite_ utterly flat, which made Neil smile.

"It's the whole 'goth' thing? Don't your kind like to suffer or something like that?"

"I'm not joking about kicking your ass, even if you have a bodyguard," Andrew warned.

"Yeah, yeah." Somehow, Neil didn't believe it. "I tremble in fear."

"Someone's become a bit of a smart-ass lately, hasn't he?"

"I know not what you mean." Neil smiled when both Jean and Marley scoffed at that comment. "So, how unbearable is Day right now?"

It sounded as if Andrew let out a long, slow breath right then. "Very. Instead of being satisfied that we didn't lose for once, he's going on about everything the team did wrong. He’s about to have a racquet shoved down his throat.”

Jean snickered at that. “He’s all yours, Minyard.”

“Hmm.” There was another long puff of a cigarette. “I’m still trying to figure out why he didn’t go bother the Trojans when he left Evermore, especially since he keeps harping about how perfect they are.”

Neil thought about the letter from Day’s mother hidden among one of Jean’s books and shook his head. “Guess you’re just lucky.” It wasn’t quite a lie.

Andrew made a noise of disgust.

“So, I hear you’re the lucky university picked for the Fall banquet,” Neil said after things had been quiet for a few seconds. “Just how much orange and white are you going to inflict upon us, hmm? We’re already picking out the sunglasses,” he teased.

“Don’t remind me.” Now there was a note of sourness in Andrew’s deep voice. “Reynolds, Renee and Curtis are already becoming obnoxious over the news and planning the theme.”

“Losers ball?” Marley called out from her side of the room. “Bunch of empty banners for all those championships you never won?”

“ _Why_ is she there?”

“I _live_ here!” Marley said with evident glee. “ _You’re_ stuck with asshole Day and _I_ get Neil. Ha, bite that, monkey-fucker!”

Andrew was quiet again for some reason while Jean shared a smug grin with Marley. “You’re also stuck with Valjean, too,” he eventually said, which made Jean roll his eyes.

“Eh, Crusty’s not so bad.” Marley laughed when Jean threw his book at her. “He grows on you over time.”

“ _I think you need to show the rookies how to clean the court_ ,” Jean sneered.

“Maybe _I_ should look into USC,” Neil mumbled as he rubbed at his tired eyes. “Eh, who’s turn is it this week?”

“Mine, for having to put up with this stupidity,” Andrew insisted. “Oi, Frenchie, be of use for once and tell me something I can use against Kevin when he’s being even more of an asshole than usual in practice with his adoring fan club all around.”

“Hmm?” For a moment Neil thought Jean would refuse, especially since his friend didn’t care all that much for Andrew, and then Jean smiled; no, he didn’t care much for Andrew, but Jean still had a few issues to work out with Day. “Bring up how Kevin was _so_ certain that it was a simple matter of physics to learn a heavier racquet and he’d have it down in a few hours. After all, one merely had to apply the right amount of _force_ , no?”

Neil smiled at that as he combed his fingers through Jean’s thick hair. “How long did it take him?”

“A little less than a week, which admittedly _was_ impressive, but was far off of his bet with Riko and meant that he ended up not only the older Ravens’ errand boy but Riko’s as well for a month.” Jean’s smile took on a sharp edge as he seemed to reflect upon some memory. “He detests hearing the word ‘physics’ to this day as a result.”

Which was interesting, since Kevin seemed to play by having a good grasp of the science, what with making all those difficult shots, but Neil supposed it had more to do with the taunting from a certain ex-partner than anything else. “What do you plan to do?” he asked Andrew.

“Just motivate him a little when he refuses to rein in Matheson. All the bickering on court is interfering with my nap time.”

Jean looked to be in pain upon hearing that while Neil smiled. “ _Why_?” Jean asked. “ _It’s not that I care, but **why** is he even allowed to pick up a racquet_?”

Neil made a soothing noise as he rubbed his fingers along his partner’s scalp. “If you’re done insulting Exy, you lazy goth, we need to study,” Neil said as he struggled not to laugh. “Go torment the soccer team or something.”

“Not as much fun,” Andrew admitted before he hung up.

“Speaking of fun, a weekend at Palmetto, yes?” Marley commented as she pulled out her phone and tapped away on it, while Neil made Jean move so he could put away the burner phone.

“We’ll get to see Meg?” Neil shrugged a little as he thought about the topic of the Fall banquet some more; there wouldn’t be Riko that time, but the Foxes would be there the two days for once since it was _their_ campus. For some reason he shivered a little at the thought of being able to see Andrew for more than a couple of hours at a time, or without Riko issuing some sort of insane ultimatum to ruin things. They could talk face to face and sit down together and… and….

He wasn’t quite sure _what_ , exactly, but he smiled a little at the possibilities, and felt an odd warmth inside of him as he turned away from the desk. Jean gave him a curious look when he returned to the bed with his laptop so he could research paintings for his (and Marley’s) art project.

It was a couple of minutes later when Fields and Garcia knocked on the door to their room before entering, carrying mugs of tea and coffee along with some fruit and granola bars. “Uhm, Marley said you wanted some snacks?” Garcia said as he glanced around.

“You can set them down there,” Marley told him with a smug smile, while Fields appeared a bit flustered for some reason; Neil glanced up from his laptop, currently propped against Jean’s bent knees, and resumed searching through Romanticism paintings for something he could use as a basis for an interpretive drawing.

“ _Delacroix, not bad_.” Jean nodded in approval, which made Neil roll his eyes.

“ _Of course you’d approve, let me draw you some bodiless heads to make you happy_.” Neil stuck out his tongue and smiled when he had a hand shoved in his face.

“ _I’ve had enough of devils for today, be quiet_!” Jean tugged the hood of the sweatshirt Neil was wearing over his head, and it was while Neil struggled to keep his laptop from sliding to the floor that he realized the two freshmen were still there and gawking at them.

“Uhm, yes?” he asked as he bookmarked the page on John William Waterhouse.

“Ah, do you… do you need anything else?” Fields asked in a squeaky rush.

“A brain for this one,” Jean sighed as he gave the back of Neil’s head a gentle push, which only seemed to confuse the girl.

“We’re good for now,” Marley told the two. “Better get some studying in before everyone else hits you up for stuff.”

“Yeah, I think Ben’s carb-loading today or something, from what Brian’s said.” Garcia chuckled as he ran a hand over his short, dark brown curls. “Hey, what’s the point of giving us cars for signing if we can’t ever use ‘em, eh? I’d like to get off campus at some point and ride around. Just chill a little, listen to some music and check out the scenery, you know?”

Jean paused in his reading to consider the question. “Work hard and you should be able to do that in a few more weeks, especially if you master all the drills. The more you prove yourself out on the court, the more freedom you earn.”

Garcia was quiet for a moment and then smiled. “Okay, sounds like something my dad would pull – make me bust my ass for the keys. Got it, captain.” He clicked his tongue while making a pointed finger motion at Jean, whose expression became one of befuddlement as the two rookies left the room.

It was quiet as Marley got up so she could hand Neil and Jean their drinks, along with an orange for Neil and a granola bar for Jean. “So, looks like you handled that well, ‘captain’,” she said with a reassuring smile.

“I….” Jean didn’t finish that thought, instead he frowned as he sipped his coffee.

Marley glanced at Neil, who frowned as well as he blew onto the hot mug of Darjeeling tea. “Uhm, you know, you can always take Knox up on his offer of help if you have any questions about how to deal with people or… I don’t know, stuff.” As far as Neil knew (and considering that the two of them were rarely apart – and when they were, Marley was usually with Jean), his stubborn partner hadn’t called the Trojan captain yet.

“It’s going well,” Jean insisted, only for his frown to deepen. “Isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is,” Neil reassured him as he slumped a little more against his friend’s legs; for the most part, it was. The team had – aside from Johnson and Loiseau and a little bit Dixon – come together over the summer, and winning last night had helped even more. But Jean was pushing hard to be there for the team, while Neil (and Marley) worked to train the freshmen… and Neil wasn’t certain how much longer they could keep up the grueling pace. Being back to a somewhat normal schedule should help, as should Jean getting help from someone who knew what the hell they were doing as the team’s captain.

Riko had managed to be the Ravens’ captain while also being a university student and on a pro team and Court (which, admittedly, wasn’t a full-time job)… but all of those demands had played some part in his mental instability, and he hadn’t been the best captain, either. He’d enjoyed the perks of the position (the authority and the fame), but hadn’t touched many of the responsibilities at all. Which might be part of the reason why, other than the partner system, there was so much (too much) competition between the players, why Jean was working so hard to unify the team. At least in providing them some protection in the last part of the season, Neil and Jean had helped in that regard already, but they still had a lot of work to do in undoing the damage Riko had inflicted upon the Ravens… and that Tetsuji had allowed to happen.

Still, it wasn’t as if Neil could force the phone into his partner’s hand and dial Knox’s number (even if Marley was suggesting they do exactly that). He thought that Jean could learn something from speaking to another captain (and there weren’t too many offering to help – the only other one he could think of was Wilds, whom he suspected Jean wouldn’t trust because of her connection to Day), but he couldn’t make the stubborn fool reach out if he didn’t want to do that. All Neil could do was give Jean his unconditional support.

They’d gotten along fine by themselves so far, hadn’t they? Neil supposed that they could continue to do so.

*******

Andrew wondered if there weren't some meds out there that Bee could give him that would make the whole stickball thing bearable, something to wipe out his entire collegiate career. Something to induce short-term memory? Ah, that was the trick, wasn't it? Bearing in mind his 'special' brain and all... still, considering the wretched show taking place out on court, he wasn't ruling out inducing blunt force trauma at the moment.

"What the fuck, Jack? Do you even see me out here?" Yee yelled at Matheson, who had flubbed a trick shot in his attempt to get the ball to Kevin rather than take a wide open one to the sophomore.

Of course the rookie sneered at him. "Why bother, I wanted it to go in the goal!"

"Oh fuck you!"

"Dammit, not again!" Wilds shouted at the two as she stomped over to them with Boyd right behind her. "This is a team, remember? We work together!"

"Tell _him_! He seems to think it's just him and Kevin playing out here!"

"Because we're the only two-"

"No, you're not," Boyd snapped at the asshole rookie. " _Tell_ him, Kevin!"

Of course Kevin just shrugged as he leaned against his racquet. "This is up to _you_ captains to work out," he said, his same old excuse when he refused to address the mess he'd made by feeding Matheson's ego. "I don't-"

" _Tell us a story about when you learned to use a heavier racquet, Kevin_ ," Andrew called out in French, tired of the stupid squabbles that extended the even stupider practices.

"What?" Everyone was staring at Andrew at that point, since only his fellow 'monsters' (having overheard him studying on the weekends and breaks) and Renee knew about him learning French, while only Kevin understood what he'd said. "How did...." Then anger overcame Kevin's confusion. " _Jean told you? Why_?"

" _Hmm, he's very chatty when I ask him about you and your failures_ ," Andrew said as he leaned against his own racquet. " _Now, unless you want me to share with the rest of the class, rein in your brainless spawn there so we can finish up_."

Kevin looked as if he'd been forced to drink one of Andrew's milkshakes - disgusted and indignant at the same time - but he did as ordered and told Matheson to be quiet and work with Yee for once. Yee appeared stunned, Boyd dubious and Wilds satisfied, while Wymack gave Andrew a level gaze for a few seconds which Andrew held before dismissing the man with a negligent wave of his left hand; he was only 'interfering' because he was growing tired of how all the infighting made the practices run long.

Which was what he told Renee when she came over to him at the end of the session with a smile on her face and thanked him. "I don't care, it gets us out on time for once." He didn't give a damn about winning games or team cohesion or any of that shit, just that he could finally take a shower and have a cigarette and eat dinner, could be done with Exy for a few hours.

"Still, it helps out a lot and everyone appreciates it."

"Go away," he said while shoving her aside with his racquet.

Still, the whole thing only worked so well with Matheson, who still didn't seem to understand that he'd nearly cost them the Osprey game with the way that he kept challenging Yee instead of working with his fellow striker, along with how White dealt with her anxiety issues from being out in front of a crowd by growing aggressive, of all things. It wasn't as if Andrew cared (he _didn't_ ), but it was annoying to listen to Wymack and Wilds go on and on about how the team needed to come together during their practices, and then put up with Kevin afterward. It wasn't as if _Andrew_ had picked the damn rookies, so why was he stuck dealing with the aggravation they caused?

If the ongoing headaches from the rookies weren't bad enough, walking in to Bee's office the first full week of class and finding Aaron there almost made him walk right back out; it appeared that Bee had finally given in to allowing the annoyance to attend the weekly sessions again.

Andrew gave her a look for her latest betrayal and made to turn around before she called out his name. "Andrew, we agreed that this was best for you, remember?"

"No, that was all _you_ ," he pointed out as he made his way to his chair instead. "I said this was going to end in disaster."

"You say that about most things, to be fair." She smiled as she came over to give him his usual mug of hot chocolate. "We're still here, aren't we?"

"Unfortunately."

"Amusing," Aaron commented as he picked at the left cuff of his dark blue jersey. "Come on, we've a lot to talk about."

Bee arched an eyebrow at that. "How unusual, to have someone so eager to get started."

"Let me guess, it's about the whore," Andrew drawled before he blew air across the top of his mug.

That earned him a dirty look from his brother. " _Katelyn_ isn't a whore, and some of us don't talk to the people we _like_ every week, do we?" He leaned forward as he kept his attention focused on Andrew. " _Every_ week. Isn't that so _faithful_? It probably helps that Josten's in another state and doesn't know what he's in for, what with the control issues and everything if they really were together, right?"

"And you think you'll do any better with the _whore_?" Andrew asked as he sunk back in his chair. "Your idealized little mommy substitute?"

"I think both of you need to step back a little," Bee said when Aaron's face grew mottled with anger. "This isn't about insulting each other, after all."

"Where's the fun in that?"

"Andrew," Bee warned, and didn't appear mollified when he gave her a blank look.

"No, this is about him having... some sort of messed up relationship with that crazy Raven," Aaron missed Bee's narrowed look at the 'c' word, "while he still chases away anyone who comes near me! How is that fair?"

"How is me talking to someone a 'relationship' in the first place?" Andrew asked before he slurped his hot chocolate.

"Because you're so fucked up, just acknowledging someone without stabbing them is a big deal," Aaron stated while rolling his eyes. "Besides, who knows what weird stuff _your_ type does when you go off to talk to him."

It went downhill from there, which wasn't unexpected, really. Needless to say, for once Andrew found some satisfaction in practice that day when it came time to throw the ball back out on court (at all the convenient targets standing about).

They had an away game against JD Campbell that Friday, which they won. Considering they were playing what was one of the worst if not _the_ worst teams in the district? They had no excuse but to win. But it was more of the same drama as the previous week, of Matheson still hogging the ball when it was him and Yee out on court, of Hurst complaining about being benched, and Wymack letting Hayes out in the goal for one quarter with a 'safe' team... which was enough to make it clear that the freshman still needed to work on his concentration. So the Foxes won against the Tornadoes, but it wasn't anywhere near the point spread that it should have been.

Meanwhile, the Ravens won against Blackwell, proving that their game against the Jackals wasn't a fluke - something that Neil took evident delight in rubbing into the reporters' faces during the post-game press conference. Andrew watched it on his phone during the bus ride back to campus, with Kevin leaning over the seat in front of him. "I'm surprised that th- that Tetsuji's letting him get away with that, being so outspoken."

"Why? He's right." Andrew paused the part where Neil tore into some guy for harping on the Ravens being a whole three points down from where they'd been last year by reminding the moron that they were also integrating more unseasoned players since they were anticipating several upcoming graduations, whereas he’d been the main new addition the previous year. Also, did those three points matter when they were still in the lead and only two games into the season? Were people _that_ desperate to find something wrong or what?

"But he needs the press on his side! He shouldn't be antagonizing them," Kevin argued.

Andrew gave him a flat look for that, considering the junkie could barely speak in front of the camera without insulting the opposing team or even a team member (unless they were playing the Trojans). Kevin seemed to realize that and had the grace to blush. “I mean… one’s image is important.” When Andrew didn’t answer him, he got the hint and sat back down.

Yes, one’s image _was_ important, and Neil seemed to be earning one as a fiery but talented striker who, unlike Ravens of the past, spoke his mind – he didn’t have Riko’s polish or Kevin’s arrogance, and he helped to counterbalance Jean’s aloofness. Judging from the online comments, people were enjoying the current seasons’ interviews for the Ravens because of the new vice-captain and his outspokenness, his willingness to smack down anyone who talked negatively about his team and fellow players yet who didn’t just talk trash about the rest of the division in general (there was also some amusement to be found in watching Neil and Jean argue in French).

While Neil handled the face to face interviews, poetic Patel appeared to have taken over their social media accounts, considering all of the pictures she posted and the comments she made. She’d posted several pictures already from their latest game and the team on the bus back to West Virginia, and seemed to be responding to some of the fans as well. It was way too much effort in Andrew’s opinion, but it apparently made the already rabid Ravens’ fans even more excited.

There were still some Riko diehards out there, some idiots mourning the loss of their ‘king’, but on the whole, it appeared that the Ravens’ followers were moving on, which was probably what Neil and Patel intended.

Andrew went through the new pictures posted before he got some sleep for the rest of the ride back to campus. Everyone slept in the next morning, and he was up on the roof for his call with Neil, when, after he complained about Aaron, he was asked if he thought therapy was helping him or not. He had to think about the question for a minute while he smoked. “On the whole, no,” he admitted. “Until Bee. She’s the only reason it’s somewhat working now.”

Neil was quiet on the other end of the line for a few seconds, while Andrew imagined him chewing on his bottom lip. “So you’re saying that if you find the right person, it might do some good?”

“The right therapist and if you’re willing to give it a chance,” Andrew clarified. He wanted to ask if Neil was considering seeing someone but didn’t – he’d probably just be told it wasn’t his turn.

“Ah, okay.” There was Moreau saying something and then Neil let out a shaky breath. “Guess that person would have his hands full with this team, right?”

“You said it, not me.” Still, Andrew didn’t put _too_ much sarcasm into the words.

“So kind.” By then Neil sounded back to normal and went on to tease him if he’d taken over the planning for the Fall banquet yet.

Andrew spent the rest of the day wondering if Neil really was interested in seeing someone like Bee, if there had been a point to that question or not. If the darkness or the awful blankness he’d seen in those pale blue eyes was wearing down on the little bird, if he’d decided that it was time to do something about whatever Riko had done to him.

Except it never was that easy, was it? Never that easy to let go of the pain and the nightmares, especially when they’d built up over so long. There’d been something fragile and desperate to Neil even before he’d ended up at Evermore; from the little Kevin had said about Nathan Wesninski, it was clear that the Moriyamas weren’t the only monsters in Neil’s life. They’d just been the most recent.

Andrew went down to the one study room in the basement level to practice with Renee on Sunday, head still a little muddled from all of the whiskey he’d had the night before and the after-effects of some bad nightmares, and was nonplussed to find Curtis down there as well. He gave Renee a blank look when she smiled at him.

“I’ve plans with Allison tonight, so Meg and I are going to practice after this. I hope you don’t mind.”

A bit late if he did, no? However, Andrew didn’t waste the breath speaking, he merely pulled his sweatshirt over his head and dropped it onto the floor before going over to their usual spot where they started their sparring session, and waited for Renee to join him. Curtis watched on with rapt attention, her light brown hair pulled back in a neat bun and dressed in plain leggings and one of those sports bra tops beneath a zipped hoodie left half open.

Renee was dressed a bit more conservatively but with the same concept of ease of movement yet little to grab hold of while fighting, not that it would’ve done Andrew much good if she did give him any openings with how quickly she moved and how hard she fought back. He lasted a little longer than usual, but she won out in the end, considering that he wasn’t in the best headspace that day, and they both were nursing some sore ribs and bruises along their jaws.

“Wow, that was… wow.” Curtis was quick to hand Renee a bottle of water and tossed Andrew his when he didn’t come within arm’s reach. “You’re both really good.”

Andrew bent down to pick up his sweatshirt, intent on leaving, before he caught the slight gesture from Renee indicating that he should stay. “Thank you,” Renee answered with a slight, depreciating smile. “So you never saw Neil practice?” He did his best not to tense up at the question.

“No.” Curtis shook her head as she toyed with the laces of her right sneaker. “Jean made a comment or two about him doing it late at night, but Marley and I never saw it ourselves. He offered to teach Marley how to fight, but I don’t think it was with a knife.” At Renee’s curious look, Meg shrugged a little, her expression sad. “Marley turned him down since she said her brothers Max and Mike had taught her already, but… maybe I should have asked, huh? But she was the one getting into fights with Avery, not me.”

Renee, who at that point had sat down next to the sophomore, reached over to give her a one-arm hug. “You can’t predict the future. It’s not your fault.”

Curtis sniffed a little as she hugged Renee back. “I know, and Neil did everything he could to look out for me – me and Marley. Now it’s time I take care of myself.”

How touching, Andrew could barely keep the water down. “Why does he need a knife when he has bodyguards all the time?”

Renee canted an exasperated glance his way while Curtis frowned at the question; Andrew ignored both of them, uncaring if he’d interrupted an ‘introspective’ moment when he wanted answers. “Uhm, because they weren’t always there? I just know that one day Neil’s uncle arranged for them, which was good because-“ Her frown deepened as if she seemed to catch herself and she shook her head. “Did you… ask him about them?”

“Main branch stuff,” Andrew said, which was mostly the truth. Mostly. But now he knew that Neil’s uncle was involved somehow, and wasn’t _that_ interesting? He’d wondered if Neil’s mother had something to do with things, and now it was confirmed – just now the ‘how’.

“Okay.” Curtis relaxed a little, but she didn’t keep talking, which meant that she was on guard about letting things slip but wasn’t in a panic about saying too much right then. It meant that Andrew had a chance to get things out of her in the future so he didn’t push. Not then, at least.

As if realizing that ‘spill secrets time’ was over, Renee nodded and set the empty bottle of water in her hands aside. “Well, if you’re ready?” she asked Curtis, and received a smile in return. Andrew took that as his cue to leave and went up onto the roof to smoke and dwell upon what he’d just learned.

Neil said he was safe from Tetsuji (and Riko) because he belonged to the main branch, that he had the authority to free Curtis from Edgar Allan and transfer her for the same reason. Had his uncle been involved in him switching from the side branch to the main branch? In assigning the bodyguards to him?

What had happened in New York City?

The worst thing about Neil Josten? Just when Andrew thought he got a question in regards to the bastard solved, another handful popped into existence.

Still, he supposed it was better to spend his time trying to figure out a certain little birdy than dwell on the (current) mess that was the Foxes, or a petulant and stubborn Aaron. Or worse? A petulant, stubborn Aaron and the mess that was the Foxes with Renee, Wilds, Curtis, Reynolds _and_ Nicky gibbering on about the inane Fall banquet theme during practice.

“Sneak your phone onto court again and I’ll confiscate it,” Wymack warned Andrew when he caught him in the goal with his headphones in one day, rather than listen to either Boyd yell at Matheson for the hundredth time that week _or_ Nicky and Reynolds debate an appropriate color scheme.

“I don’t need to hear the ball to block it, Coach, just see it,” Andrew argued, and resolved to use earplugs the next day.

“I didn’t know there had to be a theme,” Neil remarked on their call that Saturday (the Foxes had lost to Breckenridge – not by much, but Kevin had been unbearable the night before and maybe, just _maybe_ , would do something about Matheson at last). “Ah, well, there’s the whole holiday thing, but that’s the holidays, yes?”

“Something about making the court look good,” Andrew explained, even though he’d heard more than he ever wanted about the topic. “Aesthetics and so forth.”

“Ah.” It was clear that Neil didn’t understand, at least until Moreau and Patel said something to him. “They’re… excited about it? Hosting the banquet?”

“So it seems.” It was the first time for PSU, after all, and Wilds seemed determined that the Foxes made a good impression.

“I hope it goes well, then.” Oddly enough, Neil sounded genuine in his wishes for the Foxes.

Mindful of the approaching banquet and a chance to see Neil in person, Andrew kept his question simple – what would Neil major in if he had a choice (since it was clear at that point that linguistics hadn’t been his first pick). The answer of ‘something to do with math’ was a bit of a surprise, since Andrew hadn’t taken that to be one of Neil’s better subjects (he just knew that his friend struggled with English and seemed to be enjoying his art elective that semester).

Afterward, Andrew sat in the GS, reluctant to return to the house where Aaron would make snide remarks and Nicky look at him with that dopey warm smile and keep dropping ‘hints’ about being there if he wanted to ‘talk’ and Kevin would try to make him watch some stupid Exy games. He didn’t understand why everyone wouldn’t leave him alone, why they thought they had to interfere with… with _whatever_ was going on with him and Neil (well, not so much Kevin, really, other than to complain about Jean ‘ratting’ him out). Their friendship. Their mutually beneficial friendship built on exchanged truths and favors and similar backgrounds.

That was it. Whatever ‘connection’ there was between them, whatever forced the oddly persistent and inconvenient (and unwanted) emotions on Andrew were simply because Neil had proven himself useful and reliable. There was the fact that he was attractive as well, Andrew supposed, another reason for his attention to be drawn to the little bird instead of someone else… but that was all. Soon enough Andrew would grow bored or distracted, or his brain would finally realize that Neil was too far out of reach and the stupid emotions would go away.

Bee was wrong about that whole ‘ignoring them never works’ theory. Andrew had spent his whole life stomping down on his emotions, on cutting away parts of himself and it had worked out just fine. It certainly was preferable to the mess Aaron was in, so desperate for his little pom-pom waving tramp that he kept showing up at the Wednesday sessions with Bee and put up with having Tilda and anything else Andrew could hold against him (a good bit, really) shoved in his face, while he struggled to sit there and threw back Josten and Andrew’s ‘controlling tendencies’ and ‘sudden’ (ha) homosexuality and being a psychopath (not quite).

Andrew would feel sorry for Bee, but she’d set herself up for the massive headache by allowing Aaron to join the sessions in the first place, so let it be a lesson in the dangers of meddling. Though maybe, just maybe, he had an iota more respect for his brother in regards to Aaron’s tenacity.

 _Maybe_.

He still aimed balls at the bastard’s head in practice, though. Just not with as much force as he did when he took shots at Matheson and Hurst, especially when the latter kept trying to pick fights with Curtis (who could be surprisingly sarcastic if given a chance. One wondered where she’d picked up that habit, along with some French and Spanish swear words which made Kevin and Nicky nearly drop their racquets).

The week before the Fall banquet was hectic, with the grounds crew out in force to tidy up the campus and banners hung all over in orange and white colors. The Vixens held events every day to rally the students, and since the Foxes were playing the Georgia Academy Yellow Jackets on Friday, the Foxes had a decent chance of winning even with some of their team acting like assholes (Wymack spent a good ten minutes a day yelling about ‘teamwork’).

Neil sent Andrew a picture of a black fox wearing a bowtie, to which Andrew responded with an image of a tiny fluffy bird with a top hat on, and then they seemed to be sending texts to each other every day, each image more ridiculous than the last (though Andrew was pleased to note that it was easier to find preposterous looking birds than foxes).

Nicky ‘caught’ him texting Neil before the game against the Yellow Jackets. “Eh, how is Neil doing?” his cousin asked, the stupid grin back on his face. “Who are they playing tonight?”

“The UVA’s Cavaliers,” Andrew said as he frowned at the image of a fox in a frilly pink party dress of all things.

That made Matheson and Hurst stop whispering amongst themselves and glare his way. “Wait, are you talking about _Neil Josten_? What about him?” Matheson snapped.

Andrew didn’t say anything, he just gave the annoyance a flat stare in return, but Nicky, ever the social idiot, laughed. “Oh, Andrew and Neil are ‘friends’. They talk all the time.”

Matheson’s face twisted with disgust, but Andrew didn’t think he’d picked up on Nicky’s little innuendo just then, it was more that the cocky bastard was just like the homophobic asshole he’d replaced – Gordon – and so had issues with Nicky in general. “What, you talk _with_ _a Raven_? You rat out our plays or something?”

While Nicky gasped in indignation, Andrew set his phone in his locker. “ _Kevin_ was a Raven or did you forget?”

The jab hit home, as did anything to do with Matheson’s precious idol. “But he’s not now! He’s too good for them, he-“

Kevin, who was close enough to hear everything, slammed his locker shut. “Don’t _ever_ underestimate the Ravens,” he snapped at his wannabe shadow. “I’d think you’d have learned that after all these weeks of seeing Meg out on the court. You’ll certainly learn it at the end of October when we play them, and you’ll see that Neil doesn’t need any inside help from Andrew when it comes to beating us, not unless you start working better with Kenny.”

“But Josten isn’t as good as you,” Hurst argued while Matheson looked as if he’d just been told the world was flat. “He’s ‘4’, after all, and Moreau’s ‘3’!”

“They’re still Ravens, and Josten’s damn good for being a sophomore. He’s certainly a hell of a lot better than you two.” Kevin gave the rookies a harsh look as he picked up his helmet from where it rested on the bench. “Andrew and I can only do so much against him and Jean, especially when they’ve got an entire team of advanced players at their back and we don’t.”

Ah yes, the usual Day charm. Still, it was good for the pain in the asses to learn that their ‘hero’ didn’t think much of them in the end (he didn’t think much of anyone, really, not when it came to Exy, and best they learn that sooner rather than later), though it only made Matheson even more determined to prove how ‘good’ he was out on court (more fighting with Yee, more hogging the damn ball and a yellow card which got him yanked for half the game), while Hurst ranted and raved about being benched for most of the game. Wymack allowed her out on court for about half of a quarter, where she got yellow carded as well after getting into a fight with one of the Yellow Jacket’s backliners over a shoving match.

Curtis _might_ have made a big deal about the goal she scored while out on court, and smiled a bit too sweetly when she blocked Hurst’s punch to her face. Also? The Foxes were stunned silent when Wymack finally went through with his long-standing threat to sign one of them up for a marathon over Hurst’s little fit of temper.

And Neil worried about the former Raven.

Andrew sent a text to let his little bird know what had happened, certain that Curtis was doing the same with poetic Patel, and received the message ‘it’s about time’ back (was someone no longer worried about hiding his burner phone?). There were pictures posted of the Ravens celebrating their latest victory, as much as they ever did (smiling on court as they grouped together, Neil leaning against a pleased-looking Moreau), and another interview where Neil tore into anyone who thought that the Ravens were coasting by that season on luck and their reputation (still a few people, despite the ongoing winning streak).

Saturday was the Foxes (and the Vixens) meeting up at the Foxhole Court to help oversee the transformation of their stadium to a banquet hall/event center. They had to help clean up their lounge and locker room since some of the visiting teams would be using the area to change into their dress clothes and store their personal items during the dinner on the first night and the informal get-together Sunday morning before everyone left that afternoon, and to help out as protective mats then a wooden floor was laid over the court, tables were set up and decorations were hung.

To balance out the detested orange, the upperclassmen (probably Reynolds) had gone with a slate blue and light grey color, as well as a darker, almost brownish orange here and there, with the table clothes and accessories as well as simple banners amidst the official Palmetto State University ones. Andrew was aggrieved over wasting a Saturday on something so banal and being unable to go to Columbia, but at least the place didn’t look as bad as he’d expected (an explosion of orange and white), while Kevin kept shaking his head over his precious court being so ‘abused’.

Once Wymack and the upperclassmen were pleased with the results, the team was freed to go get ready for the evening. Which meant that Andrew could return to his room and take a nap, because who the fuck needed four hours to get ready?

The Foxes (and Vixens) were there before any of the other southeast district teams arrived, Curtis all smiles in anticipation of seeing her former teammates again (well, most of them). The team was dressed up for the event in a menagerie of styles – Reynolds in a strapless dark gold dress which was no doubt ridiculously expensive, Renee’s dark blue dress more modest but probably just as high end and a gift from her girlfriend, if Andrew was to guess, while Wilds, Curtis and Boyd managed to look all right without screaming ‘couture’. The freshmen were presentable, but Hurst kept giving Reynolds’ designer outfit a dirty look as she smoothed down the front of her light blue halter dress.

The ‘monsters’ were all in black, as usual, which Andrew was sure would provoke a certain ‘goth’ comment from a little bird. Matheson kept glancing at Kevin’s outfit and then at his own white dress shirt, to the point that Yee rolled his eyes (he wore a pale pink shirt with his black pants to match Curtis’ dress), but Curtis kept squeezing his arm to make him stay quiet.

USC-Columbia was the first to arrive, considering they were little more than an hour away, and then the rest of the teams began to trickle in. They appeared impressed despite themselves, and Andrew watched the tension slowly leech from Wilds’ shoulders as each group was announced, as they glanced around and smiled, as they came over to greet the Foxes’ captain and comment on the setting as well as congratulate the team on making it to the semi-finals last year (if they hadn’t played them yet) or talk about their (mostly) winning season so far.

It wasn’t that Andrew cared about such things, but yes, it was a big difference from previous years and previous banquets, when the Foxes were the underdogs and the laughingstock of the district if not the entire NCAA Class I division. Now they’d earned the respect they were being given, and Kevin could stand there without any (well, a shot or two) of alcohol in him and smile back at the other players, without any fear in him because he’d proven that he was more than Riko’s lesser partner.

The Ravens were the fifth team to arrive, with Tetsuji leading them in and Moreau right behind him. Andrew watched the team march in (still synchronized), dressed in the same black pants and shirts with red stitching around the collars and cuffs, the women in black strapless dresses with red lace on the top and for short sleeves.

Tetsuji and another Japanese man broke off from the group to go over to where Wymack and several other coaches were gathered, and Andrew noticed that the one bodyguard, Bren, and what appeared to be a young woman of South Asian heritage hesitated a moment before splitting off as well. Hmm, somehow, he suspected that the talk among the assistant coaches that evening was going to be ‘interesting’.

Moreau led his little band of birdies over to Wilds, who was on guard once again, which was only fitting considering what had happened the last couple of banquets. “Wilds,” he called out as he gave a slight inclination of his head. Beside him, Neil smiled at Curtis while behind him, Patel waved.

“Moreau.” Wilds was stiff for a moment before she let out a breath. “It’s nice to see you under better circumstances, yes?”

“Yes,” he agreed as he glanced at Curtis. “We look forward to an uneventful weekend this time around.”

“That’s reassuring to hear.” She smiled at him and then Neil. “I think there’s been enough drama between our teams that we’re owed a good time for once.”

“Well, it is a _banquet_ ,” Neil said with a slight smirk. “Don’t get anyone’s hopes up.”

That made Wilds and Curtis laugh while Boyd stared at Neil. “Very true! We’ll just have to hope for the best and see how the weekend goes.”

Neil looked over at Moreau and murmured something in French – Andrew thought it was along the lines of ‘see, I get to do what I want now’, which made Patel laugh and Moreau shake his head.

“I am off to find a kennel for this one,” Moreau muttered as he grabbed the left sleeve of Neil’s shirt and pulled him away, while Neil made a quiet barking sound as he flashed Andrew a quick grin. Boyd wasn’t the only one gawking at their passing, but he was the first one to speak up.

“Uhm… did I just imagine that or what?”

Curtis laughed as she gave him a light punch to his arm. “Jean calls Neil a ‘devil’ for a reason. He’s probably trying to put Jean at ease, since this is his first event as a captain.” She laughed again. “Or something like that.”

“Just… it’s a big difference from last year, isn’t it?” Boyd continued. “Usually they’re these stuffy bastards, like Kevin.”

“Fuck you,” Kevin said while giving the backliner the finger.

“See?” Still, Boyd was smiling now. “Can we trade you for Josten? He seems a lot more fun, not to mention a hell of a lot cuter.”

“ **Fuck. You**.”

Wilds had to tell the two to stop fighting before another team arrived, and Kevin took to sulking until the Hornets came over and their captain began to fanboy at him. The entire time Andrew stood off to the side and watched on while Nicky (who, like Aaron, was without a date that time) kept up a running commentary on the various players (attractive, unattractive, bad fashion choice, who was he kidding by trying to bring along that poor girl as a date?). Matheson and Hurst had their own little commentary going (they seemed to think they were better than most of the other players, delusional much?), while Hayes and White were content to be ignored.

During all of that, Andrew managed to catch a glimpse or two of the Ravens, who had several teams come up to them as well, apparently intent on congratulating Moreau on his new captaincy. Neil would step in now and then when it seemed that Moreau grew uncomfortable or uncertain, but Andrew noticed that Patel was never too far away as if to make sure that no one was able to press too close to her vice-captain.

He also noticed that there was an ‘assistant coach’ in black and red hovering in the near distance, too.

They were directed to sit down when all the teams arrived, and Andrew promptly ignored the Belmonte dealer sitting across from him while he ate his meal; Nicky chatted enough for three people, after all, and Renee was two seats down. Just as Wilds had wished, there wasn’t any drama, just Kevin putting his foot in his arrogant mouth a time or two, which Renee managed to smooth over (such a good Christian girl), though Wilds did have to smack down Matheson once to keep the rookie from starting a fight over which team had the better offensive line.

Wymack gave yet another lousy yet short speech thanking everyone for attending and wishing them a great season (why did they allow the man a microphone?), and Andrew suffered through yet another boring chicken dinner with no hope of ice cream afterwards (at least until he returned to his dorm room).

He wondered what Neil was doing that night – he knew that the teams were staying at various hotels around the campus and city - and if his little bird (and probably Valjean, unfortunately) could slip their leashes for an hour or so. Though if they were anything like a certain Exy addict, they’d probably complain about carbs and sugar and all that other good stuff, if he offered to go on an ice cream run.

Not soon enough, dinner was finished and Wymack came over to tell the Foxes to ‘behave and have fun’, his attention lingering on Andrew for a few seconds before he repeated the order to the newbies. Not bothering to stick around, Andrew made sure that Kevin was being a good social cripple and tagged along as always when he stepped away from the table (and glared at Matheson to make him stay away), intent on finding a certain Raven.

Neil was easy enough to spot between the crowd of black and that bright red hair, a slight smile on his face as he watched Moreau chat with the Ospreys’ captain. The Ravens weren’t in their usual orderly formation for once but spaced out a bit, and while Andrew approached, he saw a couple of pairs go up to either Moreau or Neil as if asking permission and receive a nod in approval before they drifted off. About half remained near their captain and vice-captain, though, with Patel near Neil’s side and what looked to be several freshmen a few feet away.

Neil caught sight of Andrew and smiled, the expression genuine judging from the way it lit up his pale blue eyes. “What a surprise – Marley, you owe me now. All black, just like I said.”

Poetic Patel gave Andrew a surly look before she rolled her eyes. “Couldn’t he have worn brown socks or something, like most guys I know? My brothers always mess up when it comes to the socks.”

Andrew made a show of tugging up his pants enough to prove that no, he wasn’t like ‘most guys’. “Do _not_ say that word,” he warned Neil.

“What? Goooo-od to see you,” Neil drawled out with a smirk when Andrew took a deliberate step forward; out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a large figure in black shift forward a little, too. “Though I’m thinking you guys wear all black just to make it easy on the laundry,” Neil said before he had a sip from the glass of fruit punch in his right hand.

“Now that I believe.” Patel nodded as she toyed with the thin gold chain around her neck. “Day seems the type who never bothered to learn until forced to.”

Kevin gave her a disdainful look. “I had better things to do, like play Exy. It’s why I’m one of the best, not a sub player.”

“It’s also why you’re known to be a prime asshole,” Patel shot back, and Andrew couldn’t argue with that so he let it go. “Hey, I hear from Meg that you Foxes like betting, so wanna make one? By the end of the weekend, who do you think these people will want to talk to more, you or me? Once they get over the whole ‘oh, Kevin Day, Kayleigh’s son’ and all that? When they realize that you’re nothing but a sanctimonious mole-fart.” She stared him right in the eye, not that difficult to do considering that she was tall to begin with and wearing heels, and gave him a cruel, mocking smile which Andrew suspected she’d learned from Neil.

Even if Neil was currently shaking his head while mouthing ‘mole-fart’, his expression a little bit pained.

Meanwhile, Kevin had the most flummoxed expression on his face just then – it was clear that he wasn’t used to people putting him in his place, in being talked to like that (the nonsensical insults aside). “I… you’re on,” he declared as he narrowed his eyes, a bit of rare fire lighting up the green irises.

“So how are we going to do this?” Patel asked as she tapped her right foot and glanced around; Neil was quick to hold up his empty left hand and shake his head.

“Oh no, this is all on _you_ ,” he insisted. “I put up with enough arrogance from Jean, I’m not subjecting myself to Day’s special brand of assholery by my own choice.”

Kevin’s ire seemed to go up a notch. “Fuck you.” Someone really needed to learn a better comeback than that.

“Not about to happen,” Neil said in a too-blank voice as he stared into his cup of punch, then clicked his tongue. “Now would be a good time to go away.”

“I don’t have to listen to you,” Kevin tried to argue, only to deflate when Andrew gave him a warning look. “What?”

Meanwhile, Patel took to waving to someone, who turned out to be Curtis (with Yee in tow). “Hey, you!” The two former partners hugged each other and babbled about the other looking great before Patel shook her head. “Want to help me out with crushing Day’s massive ego? We can catch up while we’re doing that.”

“Of course!” Curtis agreed with too much enthusiasm, which made Kevin twitch at her evident betrayal. “But….” She cast a look in Neil’s direction.

“I’m here all weekend, you can bore me with stories about your poor choice in boyfriends and how badly the Foxes are treating you later.”

At first Yee grew flustered at Neil’s off-hand comments, but then he noticed how Curtis was laughing and smiling and relaxed. “Yeah, it’s absolutely _horrible_ ,” Curtis ‘agreed’. “I’m utterly miserable, can’t you tell?” she asked as she held Yee’s hand.

“Yeah.” The smile on Neil’s handsome face slipped a little, which he hid behind a sip of punch. “Go sob on Marley’s shoulder for a while. Less tears for me and Jean.”

“Okay.” Curtis gave Neil a wave before she went off with Patel, and Kevin hesitated to see if Andrew would follow; Andrew shared a look with Yee, who nodded to show that he’d stay with the striker during the whole stupid bet thing. Between Yee and Renee being out on the floor at one of the card tables, along with Wymack, Andrew wasn’t too worried – not with Riko gone and Tetsuji apparently cowed by the main branch. Besides, it would do Kevin some good to go off on his own for a little while and be an adult for once.

That and Neil had told him that Tetsuji wasn’t allowed to cause any problems, to do anything that would draw negative attention to the Ravens.

In all seriousness, the fact that Kevin could go off without Andrew showed that he was getting better about some things, that he was moving on past Riko… even if it was in a closed environment filled with a bunch of Exy players where he’d be talking about Exy for a few hours, with another teammate by his side.

‘Alone’ with Neil, Andrew studied his friend and noticed that while Neil appeared tired (a common occurrence), he didn’t seem too ‘off’ for once. He didn’t appear too thin or hiding any – well, no. Andrew stepped closer and, after waiting for Neil to nod in approval, reached out to brush his fingers along his little bird’s right cheek.

“What happened?”

Neil raised an eyebrow at that as he stepped back. “Are we asking questions now?” He gave a slight, unamused smile before he finished off his punch.

“Do I need to make it my turn?” Andrew struggled to contain the anger he felt at the thought of Neil having to hide a bruise.

“No,” Neil sighed. “Someone’s unhappy about the starting line-up and thought he could… convince Jean to change it. Practice got a little rough.” Neil shook his head at whatever he saw in Andrew’s eyes. “I’ve lost count of how many bruises I’ve hidden from practice, okay? Seriously, he slammed me into the wall, I jerked my racquet up between his legs, we’re even.” Now the smile contained a hint of cruel mirth in it.

Andrew regarded him for a moment. “That’s a red card.” But fair enough, he supposed.

“Ask me if I care.” Neil stared at him with his left eyebrow slightly arched. He appeared ready to say something else, but one of the freshman, an Asian kid a couple of inches taller than Neil, showed up with a fresh cup of punch. “Ah, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” A splotchy blush overcame the kid’s round cheeks as he gazed at Neil for a couple of seconds, before he gave Andrew a disapproving look. “Do you need anything else?”

“No, I’m fine.” Neil frowned a bit. “You guys don’t have to hover around me and Jean, you know.” He sighed when the kid just shook his head and went back over to where the other freshmen were gathered and staring at the little bird. “ _They’re driving me crazy_ ,” he muttered in German.

“ _You mean **crazier**_ ,” Andrew said without inflection.

Neil returned his gaze without any expression for a moment and then smiled, the expression so bright and carefree that Andrew felt as if he’d been punched in the chest. “I know what some people would argue, so… your teammates did a good job,” he said in a deliberate change of subject while glancing around the decorated court before sipping his punch; it figured the little bird would like the fruity drink, some concoction which Renee and Abby had whipped up that was healthy and tart and disgustingly alcohol-free. “No searing of the retinas from all the orange, which is good, though you missed your chance to take out at least one of the districts and have a chance of winning the championship for once.”

Andrew regarded him for a few seconds, thoughts once again dwelling on how improbable the young man before him was, before he clicked his tongue. “Has anyone every told you that no one likes a smart mouth?”

“Hmm, perhaps.” Neil seemed to consider the question. “That sounds a little familiar.”

“What is this devil up to now?” Moreau asked as he approached, a disgruntled expression on his face and his gaze intent on his partner as if to assure himself that Neil was all right.

Neil gave Frenchie a too-innocent smile for his troubles. “We’re just discussing smart mouths for some reason.”

“And yours in particular, I’m certain,” Moreau sighed. “I rue the day you were taught to speak.”

“Hmm, think of what I’d direct all that energy to instead.” Neil smiled at his partner’s pained expression.

Moreau mumbled what sounded like to be a prayer beneath his breath, while Neil started to ask Andrew a question about his week when a couple of Ravens (their starting goalkeeping and new starting striker, from the looks of it) approached with a few University of Kentucky players. “Ah, sorry,” the goalkeeper – Ivanova – said while motioning to the Wildcat players. “But they wanted to talk to you guys?”

Neil gave Andrew an apologetic smile while Moreau stepped forward to greet the players. “Later?” Neil whispered in passing, to which Andrew nodded.

The problem with being a popular little bird was that everyone wanted his attention, it seemed. Andrew went off to find Kevin, who… who was going to lose a bet, it seemed. A bet he shouldn’t have agreed to without settling terms, but that was a certain junkie’s problem, no? Well, Andrew would make sure that poetic Patel didn’t demand a pound of flesh (unlikely), but he wasn’t going to object if it turned out to be a valuable life lesson for a certain Kevin Day.

Especially after standing there and watching Kevin yet again patronize some player on their skill within five minutes of speaking with them.

While watching Patel manage to somewhat charm the other players (she didn’t flirt, but they liked her direct nature and how she could talk about Exy without putting down them or their teams – unlike Kevin – and commiserate about training and exacting coaches), especially with Curtis there to help out, Andrew paid attention to Neil’s (and Moreau’s) progress through the crowded outskirts of the transformed court, around the open dance area and tables set up for games of chance (with the ‘winnings’ to be donated to charity, per Renee’s suggestion) currently manned by Renee, Reynolds and several Vixens. A couple of times, Renee caught Andrew’s attention and nodded to wherever Neil had gone off to, if by some chance Andrew couldn’t spot him by his bright hair or the dark cluster of Raven freshmen who still followed him around.

Or by the tall, broad-shouldered bodyguard hanging around with this group or that group of assistant coaches, whichever one was nearest Neil. Just like the South Asian bodyguard wasn’t too far from Patel.

The one person Andrew hadn’t seen much of that night had been Tetsuji – so far, he’d remained with most of the coaches or ERC personnel, far away from his own Ravens and not even looking at Kevin, from what Andrew could tell. Which was good, because as pissed off as Wymack had been over Andrew starting up shit at past banquets, Andrew was willing to bet the man would be even more furious over anything happening at this one, hosted by the Foxes, should Tetsuji forget himself and the new leash around his neck.

Andrew might be joining Hurst in running that damn marathon.

It was while Kevin and Patel were talking to some of the Tornadoes’ strikers (with Kevin appearing to struggle against calling them out on their ineptitude), that word began to spread about all of the captains gathering for a photo. Andrew wasn’t certain if it was something Wilds had come up with (considering it was her last year) or not, but he saw several upperclassmen gather near the Away locker room, and thought he saw Moreau among them.

Moreau, but not Neil.

Glancing around for the redhead, he stepped away from Kevin until he found a clear spot, and still couldn’t find Neil anywhere, which was odd. He also didn’t see the bodyguard, Bren, so he headed toward Renee’s table. As soon as she noticed him, she pointed to the bathroom near the Home locker room.

Andrew hurried into it, feeling uneasy for some reason – Neil was rarely left alone, was without Moreau or Patel at his side, so something didn’t ‘feel’ right. As soon as he entered the bathroom, he heard the sound of someone throwing up, along with a couple of people laughing.

“-got it, eh?”

“Don’t know how he smuggled it in, shame he wasted it though, yeah?”

“He’s a lightweight, look at him!”

Andrew shoved past the laughing players and was about to kick down the stall door when he saw that Neil hadn’t locked it, and shoved it open to find Neil on his knees throwing up; for a moment he thought it was blood, the mess in the toilet and a little on it, before he realized that it was the damn punch that Neil had been drinking.

“Hey.” He bent down and, after a moment’s hesitation touched a hand to the back of Neil’s head, where the auburn hair was shaved close to the scalp. Neil moaned, the sound confused and low, and he’d broken out in a sweat. After dry heaving a time or two, he went to slump forward (that or lost control of his body), but Andrew grabbed hold of his shoulders and hauled him upright.

He used some toilet paper to wipe Neil’s face clean and then pulled him onto his feet; it was clear that Neil had been dosed with something (GHB? Rohypnol?), and it must have been a pretty strong dose for it to affect him like that. Andrew glared at the players (he thought they might be the Cavaliers) hanging out near the sinks and muttered something about food poisoning as he half-dragged Neil out of the bathroom.

Since the locker room was right there, Andrew ducked down the hallway as quickly as he could while hauling a drugged person. Once inside, he went over to the nearest couch in the lounge and set Neil down with a care that belied the rage building in him at the thought of someone drugging his friend, at _why_ they’d done it, and went to fetch a bottle of sports drink from the stack that Abby always kept on hand.

(Never mind that he’d drugged Wilds that one time, that he’d planned to drug Renee as well before she’d gone along with answering questions that night. All he’d done was press for answers, had protected his own. No regrets.)

Neil was mumbling something beneath his breath when Andrew returned, slumped against the corner of the couch and face covered with sweat, his hair damp as well and disheveled, no longer held back mostly neat from his face but falling into it in messy curls. His cheeks were flushed from the drug, the make-up covering the bruise on the right one half gone, and he looked….

Andrew twisted off the lid to the sports drink as something hot and potent and jittery, something like anxiety but not quite, something that put him on edge and made his heart race but didn’t make him want to claw at his skin but to stroke certain- no, _no_ , he wasn’t acknowledging _that_ right now, **no**.

“Neil, you should try to drink this. _Neil_.” Hopefully it wouldn’t be thrown right back up, but perhaps the clever little bird had realized he’d been drugged and been trying to get it out of his system? Either way, Neil could probably use something in him with the way he was sweating so much.

When Neil didn’t do anything other than shake his head, Andrew clicked his tongue and considered his options while a phone rang – Neil’s, he realized, tucked into his friend’s back pocket. “Neil, I’m going to touch you, okay? Just to help you with the drink.”

Neil murmured something at that, something that sounded like ‘okay’. So Andrew reached for and grabbed the front of his shirt, which Neil must have unbuttoned at some point (perhaps on his way to the bathroom?), and used it to pull him forward. Then he slid his hand around to cup the back of Neil’s neck, fingers wrapped loose around overheated, smooth skin, as he held the open bottle up to Neil’s mouth.

“Drink it. Just a little at a time,” Andrew ordered, while Neil’s eyes fluttered open and closed. His lashes were so thick, and that close Andrew could see each faint freckle, could see how the bruise was healing and the fine lines of the ‘4’ tattoo. He could feel the heat radiating off of his little bird (don’t think like that, he chided himself), could smell the pomade or whatever Neil had used in his hair, could feel a thick chain around Neil’s neck.

It took about a minute for Neil to drink about half of the bottle, during which Neil’s phone continued to ring. When he made a gagging sound, Andrew set the bottle aside and gently grasped Neil’s chin. “Hey, are you going to throw up? Are you?”

There was some faint mumbling.

“Neil?” Andrew was _not_ going to be thrown up on for his troubles and was about to haul the idiot into the showers when Neil spoke up.

“Noo, Ich’rou.”

At first that didn’t make sense so Andrew stilled while he puzzled out just what had been said, and then Neil seemed to lean forward – toward him – while turning his head into Andrew’s right hand. “Noo, Ich’rou,” he repeated, voice thick and slurred as his eyes attempted to flutter open and his right hand fumbled at the front of his shirt.

“What?” Andrew asked, his voice tight with something sharp and heated and tearing – something he hadn’t felt in what seemed so long. While he spoke, his left hand slid from the back of Neil’s neck to grab at his shirt again (knocking Neil’s aside), to tug on it, and that’s when he remembered the necklace.

Mindful not to touch the heated skin beneath the material, he pulled on the heavy, expensive chain to reveal the medallion hanging from it, bearing a symbol he recognized after almost two years. “What did you say?” His fingers tightened on Neil’s chin as he fought not to yank off the detested Moriyama emblem and throw it away.

“Ah… su-sor-“ Neil went limp and closed his eyes. “Waga’mi, go-“ His breath hitched as Andrew’s fingers twitched against jaw. “Ah-“

“No,” Andrew said as he pushed Neil back against the couch. “Shut up. _Shut up_ and don’t say anything.”

Neil went still at that, so still that his breath caught in his throat, and the rage burned even fiercer inside of Andrew, flared hotter and more destructive at himself because he knew that stillness ( _don’t move and maybe it won’t be so bad_ ) and what it meant. “I-“

There was something hitting the door to the locker room and then Moreau calling out Neil’s name, was a dark blur moving fast toward Andrew so he only had the time to let go of Neil and get a knife out as he stood in front of his friend when the one bodyguard came barreling at him. Andrew ducked beneath the one punch while someone yelled, but he couldn’t move far from Neil so he took a punch to his left side, just above his kidney, and was about to stab the bastard when he heard Renee shout his name right before she grabbed at his wrist while Curtis and Patel shoved the bastard away.

“Bren! Calm down, okay?” Patel yelled at the British guy while Moreau sank down on his knees in front of Neil, who by then was half-lying on the couch. “Don’t kill him until we’re sure he did something!”

“Then I’ll break his fuckin’ neck!” Bren gritted out, his face twisted with a rage similar to what Andrew felt.

“Yeah, yeah, answers first.” Patel sounded tired as she gave the bodyguard a pat on his broad chest, and then everyone flinched when someone else stormed into the room – the South Asian woman. “Thank god, Janna, can you check Neil?”

The woman nodded as she hurried over to the couch, where Jean was murmuring to Neil while stroking his hair. “What happened? Is he sick?” she asked, her accent a little more cultured than Bren’s but British as well.

Andrew, who at that point had stepped back to stand next to Renee but still kept the knife in his hand, nodded. “When I realized that he was alone I went looking for him and found him in the bathroom throwing up.” He only ‘volunteered’ the information because Neil looked even worse than before, not because of Patel’s and Bren’s threats. “It looks as if he’s been drugged so I brought him here and was trying to get something in him and see if I could figure out what had happened.” He motioned to the bottle on the one coffee table, which had been knocked over because of his little ‘spar’ with Bren.

Done ‘sharing’ information, he gave a pointed look to Renee, who appeared to be involved in things somehow. “A lot of things were happening when you went after Neil, it seems, and as soon as they couldn’t find him, I told Meg and Marley that I saw you looking for him.”

“So it was deliberate?”

Patel and Bren shared a quick glance before Patel nodded. “Yeah. Brian said that Johnson handled the drink he got for Neil, and Bren was distracted, stuff like that.”

“But why? To make it look like he was drinking tonight?” Curtis asked as she gave Neil a worried glance.

“Yeah, or something worse, give him a bad reputation,” Patel agreed… but she’d waited a little too long there and Moreau was being oddly quiet, so Andrew knew something else was going on.

“How is he, Jan?” Bren called out. “Can we move him?”

“He should be all right, it looks like he managed to throw up in time, but if he worsens he’ll need a real doctor.” The woman, Janna finally looked up from Neil and nodded. “Get him out of here for now. What about you?” she asked Moreau.

He seemed to consider something as he gazed at Patel and then he shook his head. “I need to gather the rest of the team and then we leave. We’re not staying.” He frowned as he ran his hand over a now unconscious Neil’s hair once more. “We’ll come up with something, but we’re not staying the night.”

“If I may?” Renee gave Moreau a slight smile while motioning at Neil. “It’s so unfortunate, Neil and Marley falling sick all of a sudden. It would be understandable, you wanting to leave and sequester your team so you don’t have to forfeit a game due to lack of healthy players.”

“Oh, yes! That would explain what happened to Neil and everything,” Curtis exclaimed. “We’ll tell everyone that he came down with the flu.”

Moreau stared at Renee for a couple of seconds before nodding. “Yes, thank you.” He stood up and nodded to Bren. “Take Neil and Marley to the hotel, and let… let Stuart know,” he said after glancing at Andrew and Renee for a moment. “I’ll return with the team as soon as possible, but don’t wait for us. Leave once you’re ready.”

“That should work.” Bren went over to the couch and picked up Neil as if he weighed nothing, during which Neil barely stirred, and carried him as if he was a child; Patel gave Curtis a quick hug and followed the bodyguard out of the locker room while Andrew watched them leave, watched Neil be taken away.

Because Neil had turned down his offer of protection. Because Neil belonged to the Moriyama main branch. Because Neil belonged to _Ichirou Moriyama_.

Because of everything that meant, to Neil and Andrew and the people Andrew was sworn to protect. _Dammit_.

Moreau gave Andrew a stiff nod. “Thank you for helping him,” he said, the words rough as if they pained him. When Andrew gave him a blank look back, unable to speak without demanding to know what the hell was going on, to ask how Moreau could pretend to care about Neil so much yet do nothing when it came to his partner, Moreau huffed and turned away to embrace Curtis.

After telling her to take care of herself, he thanked Renee again then left with the other bodyguard. Alone with Renee and Curtis in the lounge, Andrew finally put the knife away before he did something with it. “Kevin?” He had to focus on the promise he’d made, the one he owed, the one he couldn’t endanger.

“He’s helping Dan and Coach with a couple of things,” Renee explained. “A lot _did_ happen – the guard, Bren, was distracted because a fight started and an ERC official dragged him off to help break it up. Between that and some people starting a rumor about a Raven being drunk, they’re trying to keep it from sounding like things are getting out of control.”

As long as Tetsuji hadn’t tried to take down Kevin that night as well. Things settled on that front, Andrew turned toward Curtis. “What’s going on between Ichirou and Neil?” he asked in as bland a manner as possible, even though he could barely contain the urge to grab something and break it. Why did he feel everything so strongly in regards to one certain person, when everything else was so muted, so remote?

“Ichirou?” Curtis paused in cleaning up the spilled drink to give him a confused look and sat down on the couch instead. “Neil told you about Ichirou?”

“Yes.” It wasn’t even a lie, really.

“Oh.” Curtis toyed with a strand of her hair while Renee frowned at Andrew, who narrowed his eyes the slightest bit in warning to keep her from interfering. “I don’t know? I mean, he doesn’t tell me much about his boyfriend to be honest so you might know more.” She was too busy twisting the strand of hair around her fingers to notice how his body stiffened a minute amount at the mention of ‘boyfriend’, but Renee caught it. “I found out because of the whole spring break thing, when Neil took the three of us with him to New York City because of Jean.” She looked up and gave Andrew what appeared to be a guilty smile. “You know, more of him looking out for us. I guess he asked Ichirou to let all of us come for a visit, not just Neil so we’d be safe.” Her smile widened a little as she looked down at the dress she was wearing. “I feel bad because of what happened to Jean, but it was a nice trip. Ichirou spoils Neil and so Neil sees that we’re spoiled in return.”

‘Boyfriend’. Curtis thought that Ichirou Moriyama was Neil’s ‘boyfriend’. She thought that someone who _owned_ a person could be their boyfriend.

Off to the side, Renee made a quiet, strangled sound, which made Curtis look up. “Are you okay?” she asked, which made Renee shake her head.

“Busy night,” Renee murmured as an explanation and hid her clenched fists behind her back.

“Ichirou spoils Neil,” Andrew repeated as he clenched his own hands into fists hard enough to make his fingers ache, to dig his short nails into his palms.

“Oh, yes,” Curtis agreed, shifted back onto topic. “He’s always putting him up in fancy hotels and he lets him fly in the private jet. It’s how we came here, after all, and avoided people finding out about me transferring right away. And he has something to do with Bren and Janna, too, since Neil’s uncle works for him?” She seemed to think about that for a moment. “It made Riko so jealous, how Ichirou always would see Neil and not him, so Bren and the others showed up to watch over him and then eventually us.”

Andrew was beginning to understand why Neil had believed that Curtis belonged on a team other than the Ravens.

“Renee?”

“Yes, Andrew?”

“See that Kevin and Aaron return to the dorms safely.”

She gave him a solemn nod, which allowed Andrew to finally move, to stalk through the lounge and out into the hallway which led to the nearest exit; if he went back out onto the court, he would track down either Moreau or Tetsuji and do something that would get him put back on the meds or worse, would render him unable to fulfill his promises to Kevin and Aaron.

So he’d return to Fox Tower – there and not search through the various hotels to find where Bren had taken Neil and do something unadvisable, something that would make the unfathomable anger inside of him finally still and seep back into his bones.

It wasn’t that Neil had made a deal with the main branch of the Moriyamas, it was that he’d given himself to Ichirou Moriyama. There was being property and being a _thing_ , a _belonging_ , a _possession_ , and Neil had allowed himself to become the latter.

‘It’s too late for that’, Neil had said back in April. He had his own people to protect. Was it because he’d given up everything to protect Moreau and the girls? He’d gone to New York with them right when Kengo had died, after all, when Ichirou had become the new ‘lord’. That was when things had begun to change, when Neil said that Riko wasn’t a problem anymore.

There was also Neil being elusive about the whole Drake situation. About him explaining that Riko had been checked on that one, and Moreau warning Andrew to not pry. How had Neil known such things?

Why hadn’t Andrew figured it out sooner? Why hadn’t he made his offer sooner?

Because no one else could be as much of a masochist as him? No one else could tear themselves into pieces in the hopes of a better, more secure future – only this time, that person had done it not so much for themselves but for others?

He’d always thought that Neil was an impossible dream, now he had irrefutable proof.

The little bird wasn’t just locked in a gilded cage, but had allowed someone to clip his wings, to take away his ability to fly even if the door was ever opened. While Andrew had played his game, Neil had allowed the Moriyamas to sink their claws into his very being.

The rage seethed inside of Andrew and made it difficult to focus, to drive back to Fox Tower… and the worst part? He didn’t know who he was the most furious at right then, himself or Neil.

******

Feeling as if he’d had his head slammed into a brick wall a few times and then eaten a dodgy tin of meat on top of it, Neil groaned as he struggled to open his eyes; had something happened? Where was his mother? Was she all right? Had she managed to drag him onto a bus so they could-

“Hey, calm down, it’s okay.”

Neil managed to open his eyes and realize that he was in the back of some sort of sedan, that he wasn’t on a bus riding around Europe with his mother but with Marley in the States while Bren drove. It was still dark out and he was wearing the black dress clothes from the banquet, the-

“Oooh.” The large coat draped over him (Jean’s?), slid down as he raised his hands to rub at his sore head. “Wha-“

“Here’s some water.” Marley was still wearing the black and red dress for the event, her hair twisted up in a messy bun and expression worried. “You coming back to us?” Her tone was light but expression worried.

Grateful for the bottle of water, the cap already removed, Neil accepted her help in raising it to his lips and drank most of it before he could nod the slightest bit. “Duh-drugged.” His head still hurt like hell, but the water seemed to help a little.

“Janna checked you out since she’s got a little experience with that stuff,” Bren called out from the front of the car, his attention focused on the road ahead of them. “She thought you got a lot of it out of your system, like Minyard said, which was good or else those dumb fucks would have made you OD, and were all right for us to get you out of there.”

Neil frowned at that as he slumped into the corner of the backseat. “Where’s Jean? What happened?” He could remember bits and pieces, could recall Lee handing him a glass of what was supposed to be punch and Neil picking up the strange taste too late. He’d went right to the bathroom after that, only for Johnson to get in his way and… and then there were flashes of Andrew and Bren and not much more.

“Jean stayed behind with Janna to round up everyone else,” Marley explained. “They’re about a half an hour or so behind us on the road.”

“Oh.” Neil finished the last of the water and tried to make sense out of that. “Everyone left?”

“Story is that you and Mo there fell sick, and the old bastard doesn’t want to risk the rest of his players coming down with something so yeah, everyone’s on their way back.” Bren glanced up at the rear-view mirror. “Officially? I think the old bastard finally went too far. Stuart’s headed to Evermore and I’m betting that he’s been told to do some real damage. It’s not often you hear him with that particular snarl in his voice, and it’s never good.”

“Oh.” Neil thought that made sense, but he was tired and his head hurt and he didn’t want to think about how Tetsuji had been behind what had happened just then. “Okay.”

Marley slowly reached over to tuck the coat back over his chest. “Get some more rest, Shorty. Not much happening here except me and Bren seeing who can spot the Starbucks’ signs first.”

“I’m leading,” Bren declared.

“’kay.” Neil closed his eyes and let the familiar hum of the car’s engine lull him to sleep, let Marley’s and Bren’s voices fade into the background, and didn’t wake up until there was a touch to his leg. His head hurt a little less then, but Bren helped to get him into the Nest and to change into something more comfortable since he still felt a little ‘off’, still felt so tired, and then it was back to sleep in his own bed.

He started awake when Jean returned, when his partner also changed into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt so he could sleep in the bed as well. “It’s all right?” Neil more or less mumbled.

“Mostly. I’ll tell you later.” Jean pressed against his back, and Neil was able to relax once more.

‘Mostly’ turned out to be Janna checking Neil again when he woke up (still with a bit of a headache from being dehydrated but otherwise all right), and then Neil sitting there while an irate Stuart harangued Jean and Marley for leaving his side the night before.

“What the hell were you doing?” his uncle asked a guilty looking Marley. “Why the fuck were you off with Day?”

She twisted the hem of her Ravens sweatshirt between her fingers as she gave Neil a quick look then shook her head. “I… I wanted to give Neil a chance to talk to a friend of his,” she admitted in a quiet voice. “He never gets to talk to Minyard alone so I thought… well, Bren was there, right? And the rookies and the rest of the Ravens, and Jean.” She sounded so upset just then, which was unusual for Marley.

“Never ‘think’ again,” Stuart snapped at her, and shoved his left hand in front of Neil’s face when he went to defend his friend. “Follow the damn partner rules you guys have, you got it?”

“Yes.”

Stuart turned to Jean, who had his arm around Neil’s shoulders to help him feel warm despite being wrapped in the quilt and wearing a sweatshirt. “What about you?”

“I was with Neil all evening, until they insisted that captains and only captains gather together for a picture. Someone did say something about a possible vice-captain one,” Jean said, his voice quiet as well. “I thought Neil would be with the rest of them, and Bren would watch over him.”

“They didn’t give him much choice,” Neil spoke up to defend his partner. “It was an ERC official getting everyone together, so Jean couldn’t say ‘no’.”

Stuart still appeared angry over everything, but he didn’t bite off Jean’s head at least. “Don’t split up,” he ground out. “The lesson from last night is don’t split the fuck up, got it?”

“But Tetsuji was behind last night, wasn’t he?” Neil asked as he rested his sore head against Jean’s shoulder. Not that there should be any doubt in it, considering how… how _elaborate_ things had gotten last night, but Neil wanted that confirmed.

“Yeah.” The anger was back in force in Stuart’s face and in his deep voice, and only having Jean right there kept Neil from curling up in a protective ball; Neil’s uncle lit up a clove cigarette as he took to pacing about in the dorm room. “It’s clear the fucker wanted to embarrass Ichirou by hitting at you, kiddo, which is why you need to watch yourself better. No more openings, _got it_?” He drew in a long pull of smoke while giving Neil a stark look until Neil nodded. “So this is what’s gonna happen,” Stuart explained while smoke billowed out of his mouth. “You, Marley and a couple of other players will play sick for a day or two – no practices, no classes. The team’s gonna run with the whole ‘flu’ story.” He gave Jean a pointed look. “There’ll be press here on Monday, so do a good job of selling it, the team being down a few players but you’re doing what needs to be done to be back in top shape for Friday.”

Jean nodded. “Understood.”

“Good boy.”

“What about Tetsuji and Johnson?” Neil asked as he hugged the quilt around him even more while he struggled not to shiver; were they the only two who’d been involved in things?

Stuart grunted as he went over to the garbage can to shake off the ash from his cigarette. “The old fuck should have listened back in April. In a few more weeks, he’s going to announce that this is his last season as your coach.”

Neil could feel Jean stiffen at the news while even Marley appeared stunned at it. “But that… how?” Jean asked, his voice hoarse with disbelief.

“It was either that or a bullet in the head, which would cause a big mess but Ichirou’s that furious right now. _I’m_ that furious right now,” Stuart admitted. “Fucking git just had to push, didn’t he?” He jerked his left hand through his grey-shot hair and shook his head. “Ichirou only gave him the choice because the first option is less attention and drama in the long run, which is better for everyone, but another of his men, Masato Ishii, will be here by the end of the day to personally ensure that Tetsuji doesn’t even _breathe_ out of line.” He paused to give Neil a considering look. “Kiddo… do I have to say anything about not doing anything stupid while that guy’s here?” He included Jean and Marley in his gaze as well. “Especially you two?”

“I won’t, and they’ll be fine,” Neil said while Jean and Marley were quick to shake their heads, his own voice rough as he thought about bringing down Ichirou’s displeasure on his friends. “Tetsuji’s really going to retire?”

“He has no choice if he wants to continue living. And this way, Ichirou can control who’ll replace him, which he can’t do if the bastard’s dead and the university steps in – there’s the illusion that Tetsuji’s handling his own successor.” Stuart huffed as he flicked ash off of his cigarette. “I think the little lord’s been looking for an excuse to get Tetsuji out of here, and the stupid fuck just gave it to him.”

“And Johnson?” Marley asked with a hint of hesitation, aware of what had happened to Federov and Lincoln.

Stuart grunted as he stared at the remaining bit of his cigarette. “Eh, unfortunately it’s getting to be a bit much, causing car accidents and maiming those dumb fucks, so I’m set to have a nice little chat with the tosser and explain to him how he’s about to not only lose his balls but all hopes of a pro career because of poor life choices. Ishii will be keeping an eye on him, too, and anyone else who steps out of line, and Johnson will be lucky to play in the reserve leagues after he graduates for a couple of years.”

Neil supposed that yes, it would attract too much attention if something happened to another Raven, especially when Tetsuji was going to retire and there was still Riko’s ‘unfortunate’ death waiting in the wings. “That’ll hurt him the most, the loss of a pro contract.” He thought about Gordon and how he’d helped ruin the ex-Fox’s dreams, how last he’d heard the asshole was living with a sister and spending most of his spare time in a bar.

Stuart grunted as he flicked his cigarette butt into the trash can. “I really don’t give a fuck about these dumb shits, other than that _you_ ,” that was directed toward Jean, “get them under control, and soon, what with Ishii coming here.” Jean nodded at that. “Ichirou isn’t going to put up with any more potshots at him or how he’s running things, do you understand? He’s not going to let anyone question his authority or make it seem that he doesn’t have things under control. He’s not going to let it seem as if he has any weaknesses to exploit,” that time he gave Neil a pointed look, “so stick together, make this damn team behave and win your games.” He didn’t exactly yell at them, but he made it clear that he expected to be obeyed.

“Yes, sir,” Neil said, his voice quiet, which Marley and Jean echoed.

His uncle’s expression softened, and he took slow steps toward the bed where Neil was curled up against Jean. “Look, ki- Neil. I’m not trying to be a bastard here, honest. I just don’t want you to get into any trouble.” He continued to move with care when he reached out to tousle Neil’s hair. “Listen to Bren, okay? I know you’re trying your best and I’m proud of you, and last night wasn’t your fault, not really. You just can’t let anything like that happen again.”

“I know.” Neil summoned a weak smile for his uncle. “We’ll do better.”

“I know you will.” Stuart nodded to Jean. “Seriously, there better be a damn good reason why he’s out of your sight from now on.”

“I’m not a chi-“

“Understood,” Jean promised, cutting off Neil’s protest. “We’ll look after him.”

“Not a child,” Neil murmured, but no one seemed to be listening to him. Stuart gave his hair another tousle (why did people do that?), which didn’t do his head any favors, before leaving.

It was quiet for about a minute after he left, and then Jean sighed. “He was right.”

Neil stirred at that. “About what?”

“About everything. About us needing to be more careful,” Jean glanced at Marley who nodded in return, “and needing to do better.”

“You didn’t know they would try something at the banquet,” Neil argued. “That Tetsuji would-“

“We should have,” Jean said as he brushed back the bangs falling onto Neil’s forehead. “It was clear that Johnson’s not happy, and Tetsuji’s been too hands off. That should have been warning enough. No, we relied on Bren and the others too much.” He paused as he stroked his fingers along Neil’s right cheek. “We let you carry the burden too long, and that ends now.”

“But-“

“No.” Jean got up to fetch his phone while Neil watched on in confusion, and stood while he placed a call. Marley grinned when they heard him mention Knox’s name and leave a message asking the Trojan’s captain to call him when he had a free moment.

His expression a little anxious, Jean set his phone aside. “It’ll probably take him some time, considering the time difference and that he should be at the Fall banquet for the west coast district, too.”

Marley chuckled as she scooted to the edge of her bed. “Wanna bet that he calls you sometime this weekend? He’s probably been wondering why you haven’t called before now.”

“Maybe.” Jean shrugged, but Neil knew what it had cost his friend to reach out like that, knew that Jean was taking Stuart’s words to heart and ‘doing better’. “We’ll see if he can be of any use.”

Neil gave his partner an encouraging smile. “I’m sure it’ll be worthwhile.”

“Maybe,” Jean repeated. Then his grey eyes narrowed as he motioned toward Neil. “You.”

“Eh?”

“You haven’t eaten and you’re a mess. Shower and then breakfast.”

“Yeah, you look like shit, Shorty,” Marley joined in as she jumped off of her bed. “No practice per your uncle’s orders, but you need to get up.”

“But I- hey!” Neil found himself pulled onto his unsteady feet and all but shoved into the bathroom, where he had to admit that a hot shower did feel wonderful. After changing into a clean pair of sweats, they stepped outside to find Declan waiting for them, which was a cause of alarm at first, until the enforcer ensured them that Bren wasn’t so much in trouble for the night before (considering that he hadn’t been given much of a choice to leave Neil’s side for a couple of minutes, what with Tetsuji’s interference) as resting after being up for so long.

Neil’s stomach was still upset from the drug (it had been the salty taste which had tipped him off, so GHB, he suspected, or at least mostly GHB – and yes, his life was a mess that he could recognize such things), so he stuck with weak tea and toast for breakfast while Jean talked to Susan, Naomi and Lee about ‘playing’ sick (all of them jumped on the chance to catch up on school work).

They hadn’t been back in their room for long when Neil’s burner phone began to ring; he hadn’t bothered with hiding it anymore, considering that Ichirou knew that he talked to Andrew and Tetsuji couldn’t do much to him (or so he’d thought). Between being drugged the night before and Stuart’s ‘talk’, Neil had forgotten all about his friend, that and there hadn’t been any scheduled call that weekend since they would see each other at the banquet.

He supposed that Andrew was checking up on him to see if he was all right, so he went to fetch the phone from where he kept it in the one desk drawer, and answered it right before it stopped ringing. “Hey,” he said as he returned to the bed to sit down near Jean.

“He lives,” Andrew replied, his voice deep and bereft of emotions; Neil frowned at that, as it wasn’t entirely unusual anymore, but for some reason… for some reason Andrew sounded colder than normal.

“Yeah, surprisingly.” Neil gave a weak laugh as he rubbed at the back of his neck; his head was finally starting to feel better. “Uhm, thank you,” he told his friend. “I don’t remember much, but I know you helped me out.”

“No wonder you’ve a bodyguard following you around.” Andrew was quiet for a moment as he sipped something. “Ichirou can’t trust you not to get into trouble, can he?”

Neil’s breath caught when he heard Andrew mention Ichirou like that – was it coincidence? “I… that’s not quite why-“

“But then again, you’re property, aren’t you?” Andrew continued in that flat, almost bored voice of his. “I suppose he’s just making sure nothing happens to _his_ property, right?”

“I….” Neil’s brain struggled to catch up to what was going on, to why Andrew was talking about Ichirou and property, while Jean set aside his book to glare at the phone and Marley stopped texting with someone (either someone in her family or Meg, probably) to get up and sit near the bed. “Why are you talking about Ichirou?”

“Funny, how you don’t deny being his property.” There was another pause while Andrew continued to drink. “Did someone teach you your place? Are you on your best behavior for _him_?”

“Listen, crevard, don’t you tal-“

“I’m not talking to _you_ , Valjean,” Andrew said, raising his voice just enough to cut over Jean’s. “I’m talking to Neil, the fool who gave himself to Ichirou Moriyama. Were there ribbons involved when it happened? A little bow with a card stating ‘I’m all yours’?” Neil flinched at every word, felt a gaping wound grow bigger and bigger inside of his chest.

“No, I-“

“You don’t know a damn thing, you stunted monkey-fucker!” Marley seethed as she jumped onto the end of the bed, which made Neil flinch even more. “You-“

“Ah, the other one who just what, stood there when it happened? Do you and Moreau get a percentage each time Neil whores himself out?” Andrew accused while Jean took to swearing in French. “I hear that Ichirou is so ‘generous’ and ‘spoils’ him. Nothing like benefiting from your supposed friend being used whenever a guy snaps his fingers, right? Treated like-“

“Stop it,” Neil said quiet at first but when Andrew kept talking, kept saying those terrible things about Jean and Marley (but not about _him_ , right? Not about him because it was true, was true that he’d whored himself out, that he was _nothing_ but Ichirou’s property), he screamed it into the phone. “ _Stop it_! Dammit, just… _go to hell_!” He ended the call and threw the phone away from him with all his strength and stumbled from the bed, stumbled from Jean and Marley’s reaching hands as he fought not to throw up the little he’d eaten a short while ago, until he was in the shower and had the cold water turned on and huddled beneath it.

Andrew was right about him, he _was_ nothing. He was never going to be anything but what Ichirou decided for him, was never going to get out of the man’s reach, was never going to know how it felt to be free, to do what he wanted without Ichirou’s approval. He was never going to be able to get on a plane and just _go_ somewhere, never make plans for a future that didn’t involve Exy, that didn’t account for being reachable for a man who owned him, who could summon him at a moment’s notice, who could do whatever he wanted to Neil.

He could only accept it, accept that he was Ichirou’s, accept that his life now was as Neil Josten, Raven, striker, Exy player… and Ichirou’s lover (whore).  He wouldn’t regret it, not when it meant that Jean was alive and well, when Meg was so happy with the Foxes, when Marley was thriving. He wouldn’t.

(He wouldn’t think of hands on him, of weight pressing down on him, of feeling things which confused him and unsettled him and left him numb and hollow, of how such things could go on for years and years. He _couldn’t_.)

His mother had survived over ten years with his father, and Ichirou wasn’t Nathan Wesninski. Neil would survive however long he had to for Jean and Marley (and Meg). He would do it.

He just had to bury deep any thoughts or hopes he had of there being anything more for him, of him being better than he truly was. Apparently, talking with Andrew had been a bad thing, had made his focus slip away from the Ravens, had let him think that there was something for him outside of the Moriyamas – and he’d never noticed. That had been another lesson of his mother’s that he’d forgotten, about trusting people, about letting outsiders in. He’d made the mistake of trusting Andrew and… well, as always, pain was the best teacher.

Neil wrapped his arms around his legs and let his forehead rest on top of his knees as the cold water rained down on him, as it helped to numb his body and turn his thoughts to sluggish fragments, as a welcome hollowness crept over the aching pain in his chest. He remained like that until the water suddenly stopped and he looked up to find a worried Jean standing outside of the shower stall.

“ _Please, devil, come out of there_.” He held out a large towel in front of him. “ _Before you really do fall ill_.”

Neil regarded him for a couple of seconds, and only the concern he saw in those lovely grey eyes made him move, his muscles cramped from remaining in the same position for so long. Jean bent down to wrap him in the towel and help him stand up, and after rubbing his arms and back for about a minute, assisted Neil out of his wet clothes and dried him off before getting him into dry clothes (sweatpants and one of Jean’s sweatshirts).

Marley was waiting in the other room with a mug of tea for Neil, which she handed over once Neil was tucked into bed with the quilts piled on top of him. There was no mention of Andrew or any sign of the burner phone, and Neil didn’t ask. He just drank the tea and allowed his friends to fuss over him, mind still numb, _everything_ still numb, and then drifted off to sleep.

*******

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *******  
> Ah yes... Andrew and his denial. He should have listened to Bee. Really. Thinking he had a handle on things and then.... WHAM.
> 
> So, the Ichirou reveal? The Ichirou reveal. Sorta. Some of it. What you expected? Maybe, maybe not. Andrew obviously has some things to work through on that. (He has a lot of things to work through.)
> 
> Poor Neil.
> 
> Uhm... so first chapter of the First Breath sequel next week!
> 
> As always, thank you so much for comments and kudos!  
> ******


	17. Let it Die (Dangerous Night)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's back! Very sorry for the delayed post, but work has decided to be impossible and well exceed that whole 40 hour a week thing and that means no time for writing (or much else) and yeah, I didn't want to put out a short (HA!!!!) or crappy chapter so this post got pushed back a week and you got an even longer than usual one where I think some really important things happen in the plot (just read til the end, honest). Anyway, let's get to the fic, yeah?
> 
> What happened last chapter? Start of the new season, with Meg at PSU and dealing with the freshmen (along with Andrew) who for the most part don't play well with the others (Jack Matheson and Sheena Hurst, especially), leading to the Foxes having a rough go with their first few games due to the lack of cooperation amongst the team. The Ravens? Neil and Jean are working hard as vice-captain and captain, and a couple of players have moved into new starting positions, with the Ravens determined to not lose their standing as the best team in the NCAA Class I division or to prove people right that they're nothing without Riko. Neil is also starting to 'come out' a bit more as the mouthy little bastard everyone (well, mostly everyone) knows and loves now that Riko is gone.  
> There's the Fall banquet, hosted at PSU that year, where Neil and Andrew get to spend some time together. Except that Neil ended up drugged (an attempt to strike at Ichirou? to make Neil look bad? to hurt Neil?) by one of the Ravens, though Andrew stepped in to help before anything bad could happen. Unfortunately, while Andrew was helping Neil, Andrew found out about Neil's 'relationship' with Ichirou (confirmed by Meg) and some not so nice things were said the next day.  
> Cue the angst....
> 
> And now we're back! Uhm... let's see, mention of suicide and drugging but shouldn't be anything new from previous chapters?
> 
> As always, thanks to Fall-for-the-Game for the beta!  
> *******

*******

Neil's burner phone was gone.

He didn't realize it at first, because an anxious Marley woke him up, mindful to tug on the quilts until he gasped awake, his hand scrambling for the knife tucked beneath his pillow until he remembered where he was and that he was safe (mostly safe). She handed him a mug of tea and urged him to fix his appearance with a hushed "Stuart's stopping by with that new guy", so Neil went to brush his teeth and comb his hair, and was sipping the tea when his uncle arrived with a solemn Jean and Japanese man in his mid-thirties dressed in a dark blue suit - Masato Ishii.

Ishii regarded Neil for several seconds before nodding once. "Your uncle explained the situation to you?" he asked in faintly accented English.

"Yes." Neil gave him a slight bow of the head. "Five of us will miss a couple of days of classes and pretend to be ill, and the Foxes will support the story." At least, Meg and the upperclassmen would, from what Marley had told him.

"Good." Ishii was quiet for a few more seconds. "You _will_ ensure that there are no more incidents which can negatively affect our lord, won't you." Considering the intent expression on his face and the deliberate pacing of his words, Neil had the impression that there was only one acceptable answer.

"Yes," he repeated.

Ishii nodded once. "Then we will work well together." He didn't say anything else, he merely turned around and left the room. Stuart paused long enough to give Neil and Jean a significant look before he followed the man.

Feeling cold again, Neil slumped down and tugged a quilt around him. "It would be a good idea to let the others know that they need to watch out for themselves," he said as he fought not to shiver. Not that they fooled around a lot or anything, but no more fighting from Avery or any more stubbornness or… just no signs that the team wasn’t unified and doing their best to win another championship.

“Yes, I’ve already spoken to Susan and Leif about warning the others,” Jean told him. “And I’m sure it’ll be reinforced once everyone hears about Johnson.”

Once they heard about how his actions had cost him a pro career, or at least a few lucrative years from one; Neil was willing to bet that most if not all of the Ravens wouldn’t risk having the same happen to them. After all, what was the point of suffering through everything they did if they didn’t get a contract with a professional team once they graduated?

Jean and Marley attempted to talk him into joining them for lunch, but he wasn’t hungry or in the mood to deal with any other people just yet. His friends brought back more tea, some toast and a bowl of fruit, which he ate while watching an old movie with Jean (they figured if Tetsuji was on the way out…) while Marley went off to make a phone call or two. She returned with more tea and coffee, and joined them on the bed.

It was after the movie ended that Jean checked his phone and found a message from Knox; he hesitated for a moment before returning the call.

“Jean? How are you? You’re not sick, are you?” Knox asked right away, concern evident in his voice.

“No, I’m all right,” Jean answered. Neil sat next to him and sipped yet another cup of tea (the caffeine cleared his head a little and the warmth helped, too), while Marley was back on her own bed and grinning as if vastly amused. “Ah, I appreciate you returning my call so quickly. Aren’t you still at UW?”

Knox laughed at the question. “For another hour or two, but that’s okay. They have a table tennis tournament going on and Laila knocked me out in the first round so I’m ready to go home.”

“Okay.” Jean frowned a little while Marley mouthed ‘Surfer Boy’. “That sounds… useless.”

“Well, the Huskies’ vice-captain’s pretty good at it and I guess they wanted to do something different. Anyway, that’s not why you called, right? So what’s going on with the Ravens, other than you got a lot of sick people on your hands?” When Jean was quiet for several seconds, Knox gave a nervous laugh. “Okay, that didn’t come out right. Is there something I can help with? Or… you can just talk, you know.”

Jean tugged on his bangs as he gave out a slow breath, and Neil slumped a little more against his partner in a silent show of support. “I… yes, there’s a few players unwell at the moment, but I think we’ve caught it early enough. I imagine we’ll all be getting flu shots as soon as they’re out next year.”

Knox laughed again, that time the sound more certain than before. “Yeah, I think _all_ of us will, especially if you guys have to forfeit a game. I hear Neil’s one of them, right? That must be stressful for you.”

“Yes.” Jean glanced at Neil and gave him a slight smile as he reached over to tuck the quilt higher up around Neil’s chest. “But perhaps he’ll lose his voice for a day or two, if God is willing.” His lips twitched upward a little more when Neil gave him a rude gesture for the ‘joke’. “The reason I’m calling is… with the concern of being able to play on Friday, I want to ensure that I’m properly motivating my team. Is there any advice you may have in that regard?”

It was clear that Jean had put some thought into what he’d ask Knox, and that Knox was treating the matter seriously, considering his response. The two captains spent the next half an hour or so talking, with Knox asking a couple of questions and telling stories about his previous captain and his brief experience at the post, during which Neil drifted in and out a little as exhaustion wore at him.

Finally, Knox had to end the call so he could get ready to return to USC, while Jean had to go work out with the rest of the Ravens. “Thank you,” he told the Trojan’s captain in a quiet voice.

“You’re welcome,” Knox replied without his usual bubbliness. “I was serious about you being able to call me, Jean. If you… well, I’d like to think that I’m good for advice, at least, or a sounding board.”

“I shall remember that… Jeremy.”

“Hey! You _do_ know my name!” Knox laughed, which prompted Jean to hang up with a weary sigh.

 “Aw, you threw Surfer Boy a bone, that was nice of you,” Marley commented from where she was stretched out on her bed. “Bet he’s gonna be insufferable all day long, good thing he’s on the other side of the country.”

Jean gave her a severe look for that remark. “He was helpful so I was merely considerate in return.”

“Right,” she drawled before glancing at Neil. “You’re not gonna say anything?”

“It sounded like good advice, what Knox told Jean?” Neil offered, uncertain what she was going for right then. “So Jean should work with him some more?”

Marley made a disgusted sound as she rolled onto her back and typed on her phone. “Okay, I don’t even care about any of that stuff and I can see what’s going on here, but you two adorable dorks keep flailing along.” Then her expression grew sad. “Well, Crusty at least.”

Was she referring to Jean and Knox? Not that Neil thought anything would happen between the two young men, not when Jean seemed unwilling to take a chance and Knox was all the way in California, but them talking to each other was at least _something_. “You’re going to be annoying to deal with when you can’t practice for a few days, aren’t you?” he asked while Jean glared.

“We’ll see if we can’t get you up to speed on biology!”

Neil groaned and pulled the quilt over his head.

He spent the rest of the day sleeping as much as possible, and the next left the room to eat with his friends and fellow Ravens. It was odd, not going onto court to practice or out to class, but he returned to his room with Marley to work on his assignments and managed to complete the art project.

While they focused on their class projects, Jean dealt with the press and the team, in assuring everyone that the Ravens would be back to full health for their game on Friday and continue their winning streak of the season. He put to rest any rumors of underage drinking or accidents at the Fall banquet (echoes of Kevin leaving so suddenly almost two years ago?) and thanked the Foxes for hosting the event, and looked forward to the Winter banquet at Madison University.

Jean was growing into his role as the team’s captain, was projecting more of a calm image in front of the camera. He’d never have Riko’s easy charm or Knox’s enthusiasm, but he was solid and appeared earnest about what he said, and from what Neil read in the comments, people found him attractive and liked his accent, even if they thought he could be more outgoing. The most important thing was that they believed in him and the Ravens, since Jean’s life depended on him being of value as a player.

Because he and Neil existed for the Moriyamas (Ichirou) to use and exploit, as Andrew had so _kindly_ reminded them.

Something which was brought to Neil’s attention on Tuesday, when Ichirou came to Evermore for a visit. Bren led him up to the East Tower with a rare nervous expression. “I, ah, don’t think he’s upset with you,” the enforcer tried to reassure him. “I mean, Stuart would have warned me, yeah? It’s probably something to do with the old fuck and everything.” He reached out as if to pat Neil on the shoulder and seemed to think better of it.

“It’s fine,” Neil told him, “he’s just checking up on things.” And if it wasn’t? What could they do? Neil was his _property_ , after all, and Ichirou could do whatever he wanted.

Bren was quiet as the elevator rose to the top floor. “Look, if you need help or anything? Just yell,” he said in a quiet, low voice.

That was so incredibly foolish that Neil smiled, just a little. “Thanks, but it’s fine. Really.” He was the one to give the man a quick pat before the doors opened, and soon enough they were in the large room overlooking Evermore with the Ravens busy at practice. Ichirou was there with a couple of his bodyguards, along with Ishii.

The man gave their lord a respectful bow. “ _I’ll get to work on those matters right away_ ,” he said before he left, and he acknowledged Neil with a slight nod as he walked past. While Neil watched him and Bren leave the room, Ichirou – dressed in another fine grey suit minus the coat – poured two glasses of whiskey then approached.

An inquisitive expression on his face while he looked Neil up and down, Ichirou waited until Neil drank the liquor before speaking. “You appear to have ‘recovered’, yes?”

“If you mean the terrible case of ‘flu’ that’s going around, then yes, it’s quite remarkable, my recovery.” When Ichirou remained quiet, Neil drew in a slow breath and handed over the empty glass. “It took a day for the drug to completely work its way out of my system, but fortunately I’d thrown most of it up after drinking it and didn’t get a full dose.”

“Ah.” Ichirou drank his whiskey and set both glasses aside. “You knew enough to do that?”

Neil nodded as he thought about all those years on the run with his mother. “It happened a time or two with my father’s people or others hired by them. Someone figured out that it would be less of a hassle to bring in me and my mother if we were unconscious, so we had to be very careful about what we ate or drank out in public.” He just hadn’t expected to deal with it when he was where he ‘belonged’.

“I see.” Ichirou reached out to brush his fingers over the ‘4’ tattoo. “I suppose it goes without saying that you’ll be more cautious in the future.”

“ _Yes, my lord_.” Neil waited for more of a reprimand, for the caress to be followed by a hit, but all Ichirou did was pull him in for a brief kiss.

“Be certain that you do, because I will be displeased if it happens again.” Ichirou held Neil’s face cupped between his warm hands for a few seconds and stared down at him before he finally let go and headed to the office – and the bedroom behind that. “The Ravens are doing well this year, are in first place for their district and division.”

“Yes,” Neil agreed. “We’re working hard to prove that we’re more than just Riko and to keep our title. We won’t let you down.” They wouldn’t let _themselves_ down.

“Good. Continue to win and in a few more weeks, when it’s clear that the Ravens have moved on without Riko, he will take his life out of the fear of being overshadowed by his own team and former partner, Day.” Ichirou waved his left hand in the air while a slight, cold smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “One of the doctors will work on the statement, but it’ll lead into the perfect time for Tetsuji to publically declare at your Winter banquet that he is retiring from coaching.”

No one should question it, not after such a ‘personal’ loss. “Who’s going to replace him?” Neil asked as Ichirou came to a halt in the middle of the small bedroom.

“Masato’s already narrowing down several candidates from former Ravens, considering….” Ichirou’s smile sharpened as he gestured around them. “They need to be capable while understanding the dynamics of what happens here, and everything will be in place so the university can’t seize control of the process.”

“But they _won’t_ be Tetsuji, right?” Neil asked as he stepped forward and dared to place his hands on Ichirou’s shoulders. “No more canings, no more blind eyes to…,” his breath hitched and he shook his head as he thought about Federov and Bautista and Johnson. “No more abuses.”

Ichirou grasped Neil’s chin, the hold light but enough to make him look up. “The new coach will continue to ensure that your team wins, but he won’t be Tetsuji. I want champions, not broken players and messes that need cleaned up every few months.”

“Good.” Neil hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to do, of if he should do it… but it was his life now, wasn’t it? It was what he’d agreed to (sold himself into) after all, so he rocked up onto his toes to kiss Ichirou, to initiate for once instead of just stand there and _wait_ for something to happen, and slowly relaxed when Ichirou at first grunted in surprise and then pulled him close to deepen the kiss.

It was… it was a little different, when he tried _more_. It certainly made Ichirou happier, made him more fervent when Neil attempted ‘new’ things (attempted things willingly), which meant they were there a little longer than usual in that quiet, small room.

“I’ve missed a meeting,” Ichirou ‘complained’ as he placed a kiss on Neil’s bruised neck, followed by the familiar one on his forehead; judging from his pleased smile, Ichirou didn’t seem too upset at the moment.

“Oops?” Neil summoned a smile despite feeling drained and wanting nothing more than to return to his room and shower. “I’m sure you’ll think of something to tell them. Perhaps a lengthy session at the gym?” He reached out to tuck back a strand of his lord’s disheveled black hair.

“And quite an enjoyable workout it was. No, I think it’s best for them to accept that my schedule is _mine_ and _they_ have to adapt.” Ichirou stretched out his back as he rose from the bed and didn’t seem in too much of a hurry despite that disrupted schedule. “I’ve spoken to my uncle and he _should_ know his place now, but if there’s any hint of him stepping out of line, go to Masato and your uncle, Nathaniel. I won’t tolerate any attacks against me, directly or indirectly.”

“ _I understand_.”

“Good.” Ichirou regarded him for a couple of seconds before he nodded, his expression more serious than before. “I’m glad that I can rely on you, Nathaniel. Do well this Friday. I’ll be back for the game.”

Neil watched him walk into the shower and remained on the bed for another minute before he forced himself through the usual motions of wiping himself clean and dressing, and gave a polite nod to the guards out in the main room before stepping into the hallway where Bren was waiting. The enforcer took one looking at him before shaking his head.

“Neil, are you-“

“I’m fine.” He just wanted to get back to his room.

“I’m not sure that you know what those words mean,” Bren muttered as he rubbed at his face.

“ _I’m fine_ ,” Neil repeated. “And it’s… it’s going to get better.” Just another month or so.

Jean was still busy with practice when he reached their room, but Marley was there, working on her computer with what looked to be their biology project. She jumped up from her desk when she saw him, but didn’t stop him as he went right into the shower to scrub his skin clean, to try to warm up from the coldness that always crept out from his bones, to have the echoing hiss of water drown out Andrew’s voice in his head (property, property _, property_ ).

He was still in there when Marley opened the bathroom door and put a pile of black clothes on the floor. “Neil… Jean’s going to be back soon. Won’t you come out?”

For a moment he considered ignoring her… but Jean would come in and take up vigil next to the stall, more than likely, and it was bad enough to hear the concern in her voice so he turned off the water and forced himself to dry off and pull on the clothes (underwear, sweats, one of the hooded sweatshirts he’d appropriated from Jean). When he stepped into the other room, Marley was waiting with a mug of tea and for some reason her light brown eyes shimmered with tears.

“Oh Neil… this has to stop. Can’t you put an end to it?”

He glanced aside as he accepted the mug then went over to his bed, where he set the tea on the headboard so he could wrap the quilts around himself then held the mug in his hands to soak in its warmth. “That’s not going to happen.” Why was his voice so rough?

“But Riko’s gone and Tetsuji’s on his way out, we don’t-“

“ _No_.” He looked up at her and shook his head. “That’s not how this works, you don’t make deals on conditions like that. There’s no ‘take-backs’. Ichirou continues to extend his protection, and I… that’s not how it works,” he said as he slumped back against the wall with his eyes closed.

Marley was quiet for about a minute. “Is there even anything to protect us from, once Tetsuji is gone? Anything to make this all worthwhile?”

“Yeah.” Neil fought not to shudder and had a small sip of tea to wet his suddenly dry throat. “There might still be some of my father’s organization out there, and there’s no telling how deep Tetsuji’s goes. I won’t risk you or Jean just because… look, enough, okay?” He had to fight to keep the tremble out of his hands before he spilled the tea all over the quilts that Marley’s mom had worked so hard on.

The sound of feet scuffing on the carpet made him open his eyes to watch Marley approach the bed, her expression grave. “I hate seeing you like this – me and Jean. Isn’t there a way to keep all of us safe without involving Ichirou?” she asked as she sat down near him.

“You can’t get something of value without giving up something that the other person wants.” His smile just then was a bit lopsided. “I don’t know why he wants me, but that’s the price.”

“He’s an asshole but he’s not stupid, that’s why,” Marley said as she reached out to run her right hand over his damp hair. “You’re priceless, Shorty.”

A weak laugh escaped him at the comment. “No, I’m worth five million, apparently. Something like that.” He thought about his mother and father, about having belonged to the Moriyamas for so long. “Maybe a bit more now with the endorsement deals. Not that I see much of it, considering I’m just property.”

Marley’s expression took on a harsh edge as she rocked back on her heels. “You’re _not_ property, damn it! I’m going to skin that monkey-fucker alive the next time I see him for saying that to you.”

“It doesn’t-“

“ _He’s wrong_.” Marley glared at nothing as she shook her head. “I don’t care what your shit-turd father did or what you promised Ichirou, you’re not a thing! _Okay_?” She glared at him until he nodded, and sat there with her arm around his shoulders until Jean returned.

His partner appeared tired from practice, but was quick to climb onto the bed when he saw them sitting together. “What did Ichirou want?” Jean asked with a weariness in his deep voice which Neil didn’t think was from playing Exy for a few hours.

“Maybe to check up on me, but he let me know something important.” Neil slumped down until he rested his head on Jean’s shoulder; whatever he had to do, whatever it cost, knowing Jean and Marley were safe made it better. He hadn’t failed when they were next to him and all right. “By the end of the year, Tetsuji will make his retirement official and there will be a search for a new coach, one which Ichirou and Ishii will approve of beforehand. They’ll be an ex-Raven, but they won’t be another Tetsuji because Ichirou doesn’t want any more problems. Ichirou said Riko’s ‘suicide’ will be the excuse for him stepping down.”

His friends were quiet for a few seconds and then Marley scoffed. “So another guy, right? It’ll probably be another guy.”

“Most likely, but anything is an improvement over our ‘dear’ Master.” Jean reached up to brush the knuckles of his hand along Neil’s right cheek. “To know they’ll both be gone soon… it’s unreal,” he sighed.

“Just a little longer,” Neil assured him. “We have to keep winning so it looks like Riko’s broken by us moving on without him.”

“Hell, for that alone I’m willing to extend the night-time practices,” Marley agreed. “Anything to speed up the prick’s demise.”

“I know your uncle told us that Tetsuji would retire, but to think that it’ll actually happen….” Jean was quiet as if picturing that moment. “I can’t wait to watch him leave Evermore, to look on as everything is stripped from him.”

As the man lost what he’d built upon so many people’s pain and suffering and broken dreams. Oh yes, Neil couldn’t wait, either. “Soon.” He and Jean would always belong to Ichirou Moriyama and the main branch, but they could at least take some satisfaction in the fact that they’d helped break the side branch, had destroyed Tetsuji and Riko Moriyama.

Not bad for property.

Neil pushed down the stab of pain he felt at the urge to call Andrew to tell him about the news, at the realization that he’d never do such a thing again. Funny, how despite being a fool and a possession, he still felt so much. He’d have to do something about that.

At least it was one important lesson he’d learned where the only one who’d been hurt was himself.

*******

Andrew sat on the roof, the buzz of Kevin's cheap vodka in his veins making the sight of the campus below him a bit blurry. He went to inhale from his cigarette and realized that it had burned down to the filter at some point, and then that it had been the last one in his pack.

Well, it was that type of day, wasn't it?

He flicked the butt out into the air and sat there for a few more minutes, unwilling to expend the energy to move or worse, to deal with people. It had been enough to put up with Wymack and his posturing when Andrew had refused to go to the stupid banquet earlier, 'coughing' into his hand and declaring that he hadn't felt well, that he'd come down with the flu which had driven a certain flock of birdies back home.

A certain flock of birdies... a little bird....

No, he wasn't thinking about that right now.

So Andrew sat with his feet dangling over the edge of the roof until the nagging bite of fear from being up so high grew thin and familiar, then begrudgingly made his way back to his dorm room. At least there should be a pack of cigarettes down there, though he'd drank the last of the alcohol.

He was perched in the bedroom window and working on his second smoke while debating if he should go over to Wymack's and see if the man had any whiskey when the others finally returned, dressed in black jeans and the orange and white Fox jerseys which Wilds had forced everyone on the team to wear for the second day of the banquet (Andrew's _may_ have ended up in the garbage already). While Andrew exhaled a plume of smoke, his brother dragged off his own jersey and threw it aside with a mild look of disgust. "Oh, what a surprise, you’re suddenly feeling better. Remarkable recovery there.”

Andrew didn’t say anything, he just gave his brother the middle finger and continued to smoke, while Kevin also removed the garish jersey (with a bit more respect, which was almost interesting to note) so he could replace it with a black t-shirt. “Coach isn’t happy with you, you know. Fortunately no one from the ERC seemed to care that you weren’t there, other than say that they hoped that the Foxes weren’t affected by the flu, too, but this banquet was important to the team. It was about us making a good impression for once and not- hey!” He glared at Andrew, who had just flicked the butt of his cigarette at the coward.

“Don’t care,” Andrew intoned in a flat manner. “Nicky.” He waited until his cousin looked his way and gave him a nervous smile. “Go out and get some beer,” he ordered as he reached into his front right pocket and pulled out some money; unfortunately South Carolina was an unenlightened state and that meant no hard liquor was available that day. “The strong stuff.”

“Uhm, okay.” Nicky managed a weak laugh as he inched over to snatch at the money. “The hipster stuff, yeah?” He glanced at Aaron as he shoved the money into the back pocket of his ripped jeans. “You wanna come?”

“No.” Aaron appeared thoughtful as he followed their cousin out of the room, leaving Andrew alone with a scowling Kevin.

“Yes?” Andrew asked as he pushed away from the window so he could head to the bathroom.

“Is something wrong? Did Jean or Neil say something to you? One of the-“ Kevin seemed to choke on his own tongue when Andrew whirled around to face him, unwilling to hear about Neil or anything to do with the Ravens just then.

“Don’t,” Andrew warned in a low voice. “Just-“

“Let me in, dammit!” Curtis’ furious voice interrupted him, coming from the front door. “Get out of my way!” she shouted over Nicky’s confused greeting, so Andrew left the hallway connecting the bedroom, bathroom and kitchen area to step into the main room of the suite to see the Foxes’ sophomore dealer, still dressed in the orange and white jersey, stomping toward him with what looked to be tear streaks on her face, along with a _lot_ of anger.

He stared her down with his arms folded over his chest as she came almost within reach, with Nicky hovering near the open door (in which Renee appeared, of all things), and Aaron standing off to the side. “You fucking asshole!” Curtis shouted at Andrew, which made Nicky gasp and Aaron smile the slightest bit. “You lied to me!”

Andrew clicked his tongue as he looked past the ex-Raven. “Go get the beer,” he told Nicky. “Now.”

“Don’t ignore me!” Curtis made a motion toward him, either to shove or perhaps even to hit him, and ended up shoved away herself; Renee was quick to dart into the room to grab her little protégé while Nicky called out Andrew’s name and Aaron made an abortive gesture, ever the idiot when it came to pretty girls.

“Meg, perhaps you should-“

“No!” Curtis tried to shrug off Renee’s hold but for a good Christian girl, Renee was both strong and stubborn. “What did you do to Neil, you bastard?” she continued to shout at Andrew. “What did you say to him?”

So that’s what the drama was about – Neil. Andrew gave a narrow look at Nicky, who still hadn’t left, and at Aaron, who was so very interested all of a sudden, before he returned his attention to Curtis. “Nothing but the truth, so shut up and get out of here.” He gazed at Renee, who should have known better than to let the girl come bother him.

“Right, like I’ll believe that after you _lied_ to me last night! Lied and got me to tell you about-“ Curtis shook her head after she glanced aside at a too attentive Aaron and Nicky. “Do you even care what you did to him?” When Andrew stood there without saying anything, she scoffed and managed to shrug her left arm free from Renee’s grasp. “Of course you don’t, not a heartless bastard like you. A heartless _monster_.” She ignored Renee’s quiet protest and shook her head again. “All those stories about you are true.”

“You’re not leaving. You _or_ Nicky,” Andrew said as he pointed to the door.

“Here’s a message for you,” Curtis called out as she turned away, no longer bothering to look at him as if the sight of him caused her to feel disgust. “’No more’. No more calls, no more texts, _nothing_. Try to talk to Neil again and oops, how sad that you fell from the roof one night.”

Nicky gasped upon hearing that while Renee gave the girl a disbelieving look. “That’s… that’s a threat, right?” Nicky asked Curtis while he shuffled out of the doorway. “You’re kidding _, right_?”

She didn’t look at him or anyone else as she left. “ _No_.”

Well, maybe someone was a little more of a Raven than they’d ever suspected.

“Go get the beer,” Andrew told his stunned cousin when everyone remained standing in the room without moving or saying a word. “ _Now_.”

“But Andrew, that-“

“ _Now_ ,” he repeated, which made Nicky gulp and scurry out into the main hallway, the door slamming shut behind him in his haste. Kevin, who’d been hovering near the kitchen, cringed at the sound and ducked into the small room, where he began to open and shut cabinets in what was a futile search for more alcohol.

That left Andrew with a quiet Renee and a thoughtful Aaron, neither of which was a good thing. “Go away,” he told his brother.

“I don’t know, I think this is something we should-“

Andrew stalked out of the room, unwilling to listen to his twin gloat over what had just happened, over the whole _Neil_ thing, so he left and headed up to the roof.

Of _course_ Renee followed.

She kept her distance and didn’t come close to him once he settled on the ledge again (the scene of his impending death, according to Curtis), and waited until he lit up a fresh cigarette. “Do you think they meant it? The threat?” she asked in a quiet voice which contained a hint of darkness.

“Yes,” he answered without any hesitation. After all, Neil’s connections (his uncle?) had ruined Gordon’s life, had crippled Federov, so what was one more person added to the growing list? They might not even intend to kill Andrew, considering it was just a few floors, but fuck him up enough that he’d wish that he’d have died.

“I see.” She tugged at the cross hung around her neck as she seemed to consider something. “Meg really is upset with you – Marley left a message on her phone earlier, and whatever she said wasn’t good. Neither was their conversation when we got back to the dorm.” She gave Andrew a curious look and sighed when he remained quiet. “This is about Neil and Ichirou Moriyama, isn’t it?”

Andrew huffed at that and resumed staring out over campus. “What do you think?”

“What did you say to him? I gather from the little that Meg will tell me that you talked to him this morning?” When he didn’t answer, Renee sighed again. “Andrew, _what_ did you say to him?”

“Nothing that wasn’t the truth.” He didn’t lie just then, not really – he believed everything he’d told Neil that morning, that he _was_ a fool for giving himself to the man, that he’d turned himself into nothing but property. That Moreau and Patel (and Curtis) were reprehensible for not putting a stop to things, for benefiting from Neil having to whore himself out whenever Moriyama beckoned.

He… _might_ have been able to phrase things a little better, a little less harsh, but what was done was done. The truth hurt, wasn’t that the saying?

It sounded as if Renee was muttering a prayer beneath her breath for a few seconds. “Whatever you did, it’s made Marley stop speaking to Meg and block Dan and me from being able to reach out to her,” she told him. “I know you probably don’t care about her that much, Andrew, but Meg’s just lost a good friend – no, she’s lost _three_ good friends, at least for now, because they feel they can’t trust her. And that’s something I played a part in, so it’s on both of us.”

She was quiet for a few seconds as if waiting for a response from him, and gave a sad little laugh. “Well, if you don’t care about Meg, perhaps you will about Neil. It’s clear that you’ve broken whatever trust was there, isn’t it? Was the _truth_ worth it, Andrew?”

He didn’t turn around as she started to walk away, but it seemed that she wasn’t quite finished yet. “Meg would only be that callous if you’d hurt someone she loves, which you did. I guess what confuses me the most out of all of this is how you went from wanting to offer Neil your protection to tearing him apart, just because he did something desperate to protect the people _he_ cares about. But then, you don’t care about _anything_ so what does it matter, the fact that you just proved to him that he was wrong to trust us Foxes?” She paused by the door before opening it. “He was definitely wrong to trust _you_.”

The thing about Renee was, she didn’t need a knife in her hand to score deep into one’s weakest spot.

Andrew gave enough time for all the annoying Foxes to be tucked in their rooms and Nicky to return with the beer before he returned to the suite, considering that his mood was not the best at the moment and Wymack so disliked it when he perforated a teammate. It was a good thing that Nicky had bought a case of potent craft beer since Aaron and Kevin were already a few bottles into it, so he grabbed two four-packs and retreated into the bedroom, where he climbed up into his loft with the intentions of being left alone for as long as possible.

It wasn’t whiskey, but it would do, he supposed.

He drank as much of the beer that he could stomach (three large bottles), which gave him somewhat of a buzz (oh, the joys of being medicated all those years – fucked up life and fucked up tolerance), before he lay down on the bed and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

It didn’t surprise him when there was a message about Neil’s phone being out service when he tried calling his little – no, when he tried calling the Raven.

Neil wasn’t his anymore, had never been his.

It wasn’t as if there’d been a chance for them if Gordon hadn’t fucked things up with that forum post, if Neil hadn’t turned Kevin down back in Millport, right? Because Andrew was still Andrew, and Neil hadn’t been interested in sex or anyone ‘before’.

Neil was just one more impossible thing Andrew had dared to want, and he’d been burned once again, right? No safe home with the caring parents (no Cass), no family where blood and promises mattered, no future where there was a reason to wake up each day, no redheads with bright blue eyes and sharp smiles and mocking laughs who traded him truths for truths and could meet him nightmare for nightmare.

Yeah, Andrew was used to disappointment by that point in his life, but he had to admit that this latest one? It… it left him a bit more hollow than usual.

He spent the night up in his loft, for the most part, refusing to take Kevin to court so he could practice his stupid stickball game, and had to force himself out of bed the next morning to head to the gym with the others.

Wilds was annoyed with him, either about him skipping the second day of the banquet or the whole Curtis and Patel thing – or both, Renee was unusually distant, Reynolds only too pleased to ignore him, and Curtis still in a snit. That meant that Boyd sided with the upperclassmen (and Curtis), Yee with his girlfriend, and the freshmen picked up on the tension real quick.

White and Hayes appeared confused and unwilling to take sides at first, but Matheson and Hurst were only too delighted to make snide remarks about Curtis being pissed off with Andrew and what must have happened to cause it. Andrew worked out in silence for the most part, until Matheson commented about how he was looking forward to kicking Neil’s ass on court in a few weeks – then Andrew ‘accidentally’ dropped a twenty-five pound weight near the asshole’s left foot.

While Matheson yelped and jumped back in shock, Andrew gave first the asshole and then Wymack a blank look. “What?”

“’What’ exactly? Don’t maim my team, dammit!” Wymack snapped at him. “Get on the treadmill, you shitty dwarf!”

Andrew gave him a two-fingered salute and did what he was told, but only walked on the thing without it even being turned on. He heard some muttered curses and ‘psychopaths’ directed his way, which he ignored with ease, until it was time to wash off the sweat (not so much on his part) and head to class.

Afternoon practice wasn’t much better, with him barely putting in any effort during laps or drills, and refusing to talk to anyone (not that there were so many options) until it was his turn in the goal. Then he did just enough to show Matheson and Hurst how pathetic they were despite their delusions of grandeur. Needless to say, Andrew wasn’t the only miserable Fox by the time Wymack yelled at them to get their sweaty asses off of his court.

It wasn’t much different on Tuesday.

On Wednesday, he had the ‘joy’ of dealing with Aaron and Bee, enough to make him consider Curtis’ little snide threat about what would happen if he bothered Neil. He walked into Bee’s office to find her eyeing him with evident concern (had a certain coach gone above his pay grade?) and Aaron appearing downright eager for once. Bee was quick to pick up a spare mug of hot chocolate and bring it over to Andrew as soon as he settled in his chair.

“Ah, so, it seems as if there was some excitement this weekend?” she asked, her gaze focused on him as she held the cup out for him to accept.

“ _Someone_ got dumped,” Aaron stated in a smug manner. “I wonder why? Too controlling? Too possessive? Too crazy?”

Now Bee appeared annoyed as she shot Aaron a displeased look while she settled back in her chair. “I think you’re projecting a bit.”

Aaron scoffed at that. “Why shouldn’t I? He goes out of his way to drive off any girl I like, and when I find someone nice who cares about me? Who I really care about in return?” Aaron gave him a bitter look before shaking his head. “He threatens her and tells me I can’t see her because of some… some insane deal we made a couple of years ago. Meanwhile, _he_ hooks up with a _guy,_ because why should _Andrew_ ever follow any rules? So yeah, I’m enjoying the fact that he fucked up whatever weird shit he had with Josten.”

“There was nothing going on between us,” Andrew insisted before he sipped the hot chocolate, which made his brother scoff.

“Right, which is why you called him every week and got a new phone at last, which you were always playing with these last few months. And it’s why you’ve been even more of an asshole since Sunday. Not even Kevin wants to be around you for once.”

Andrew gave him the finger to show how much he cared about any of that.

Unfortunately, it seemed that his brother was on a roll, listing Andrew’s faults and failures. “Yeah, stuff like that is why even Renee’s tired of putting up with you, no wonder Josten didn’t last long.” Aaron snorted in derision as he folded his arms over his chest. “A few hours of dealing with you in person was enough for him, right? What, you didn’t like him having other friends? Thought it was stupid, him talking to his own teammates? I mean, how can anyone want someone else in their life when they have _you_?”

“Aaron,” Bee called out in that quiet yet stern way of hers when she felt someone had gone a little too far. “I think you should be careful about what you say.”

That made him direct an incredulous look her way. “Really? After everything you’ve heard him say about me and Katelyn, you can tell me that?”

“Yes, I can.” Bee held his gaze with a calmness that Andrew detested at times. “Do you really want to be like this? To be happy about what happened to your own brother?”

“Yeah.” When Bee continued to stare evenly at him, Aaron shifted in his seat and ducked his head. “I mean… well, don’t you think he deserves it, after everything he did to me? After how he treated Katelyn?” He sounded uncertain and took to tugging at the cuffs of his black long sleeved t-shirt.

“Do you think _Katelyn_ would be pleased with how you’re reacting?” Bee asked, doing her ‘I’m not going to answer your question but ask one of my own’ shit, which was another thing that Andrew disliked.

Yet it seemed to work on cowing Aaron, on making him feel guilty (such a useless emotion), because his head hung a bit lower while it shook from side to side. “No,” he admitted in a quiet voice. “Even if he does deserve it,” he did add, though.

“Perhaps, perhaps not, but I think you can be a bigger person and let this go.” She waited for Aaron to give a weary sigh and a slight nod. “If you don’t mind… I think it would benefit Andrew if he had a one on one session with me today.”

Aaron looked up at her for a moment and then gave Andrew a slight glare. “This isn’t over, okay? I still think he deserves to suffer a bit, it’s only fair after everything he’s done… but I’ll go. _Today_.”

“Your cooperation is appreciated,” Bee said with a hint of wryness, and when Andrew went to add something, gave him a narrow look until he merely sipped his hot chocolate instead. Aaron joined in on the unhappy look thing before he grabbed his backpack and stalked out of the office.

“So it is about Neil,” Bee remarked as she settled back in her chair. “What happened?”

“What makes you think something happened?”

Bee heaved a weary sigh as she removed her glasses so she could rub at the bridge of her nose for a couple of seconds. “Because David is worried about losing one of his team to a serious injury with the way you’re transferring your anger onto them, the last couple of days. Because he’s never seen Renee so upset with you? Because Kevin actually talked about skipping a late night practice for once, rather than put up with you. Pick one of them, Andrew.”

He didn’t care about the majority of the Foxes, and didn’t know why Wymack was so concerned about those rejects – most of them were pretty tough and Andrew wouldn’t damage them _too_ much. Not when he’d have to listen to Kevin whine about missed games and being disqualified for the season, or even worse – when he’d have to play a full game as everyone jumped on the merry-go-round of alternate positions again.

As for Kevin and the late night practices… so what if Andrew might have given him one hour out on court Monday and Tuesday night and threatened to break his racquet if he wasn’t ready to leave once it was up? He was tired of Exy and lying around on a damn bench when he could be in his own bed and sleeping, was just… was just _tired_.

“Renee and I have had a differing of opinion,” he said before gazing into his half empty mug. “Poh-tae-toe, poh-tah-toe, you know.”

“And would that difference of opinion have anything to do with Neil?”

“Hmm, is he a potato?” Andrew asked as he cocked his head to the side, eyes still fixed on the contents of his mug. “I thought he was a Raven, so animal and not a vegetable.”

“The cleverer the wordplay, Andrew, the more you’re trying to divert, so I’ll take that as a ‘yes’.”

He glanced up to find Bee still holding her glasses in her hand and clicked his tongue. “Someone’s no fun today.”

“ _Someone’s_ trying to figure out why you’re being so destructive all of a sudden, and I think whatever happened with Neil is at the heart of it,” she said as she tapped her folded glasses against her chin. “What happened?”

“Oh Bee, this is _not_ me being destructive,” he told her with a hint of almost-fondness. “The campus is still standing, after all.”

She continued to regard him for a few seconds before she slipped on her glasses. “There’s all types of destruction, which you well know. I think right now? You’re tearing down everything that’s standing around you on an emotional level, a support level, because maybe if you drive them all away then you can prove that there never really was anything there between you and Neil in the first place, that you truly never felt anything.” When he remained quiet, she let out a slow breath, her expression tinged with sadness. “Oh Andrew, really? You think – wait, let’s deal with one thing at a time. Isolating yourself isn’t going to make anything better. It’s not going to prove that you don’t feel anything in the first place. It’s just going to make you hurt even more.”

“I don’t feel-“

“ _Don’t_ ,” Bee said with an unusual amount of force, her brown eyes narrowed in a rare show of anger. “You’ve always been refreshingly honest with me, so don’t start lying now. You’re not the most open person, but you’ve let a few people in and you _do_ feel, Andrew. You care for your brother and your cousin, that’s evident in the way you protect and look out for them. You also chose to watch over Kevin and you trust Renee. Those _are_ feelings. And you _care_ about Neil. Or else you wouldn’t be reacting this way.”

He didn’t say anything at first, just finished off the hot chocolate and set the mug aside. “An interesting theory, but it doesn’t matter now, does it?” Andrew cocked his head to the side again while he tapped the fingers of his right hand against his knee. “Because he doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore.”

Bee was quiet as she sat there for a couple of seconds and then got up to retrieve his mug and went over to make him and herself some hot chocolate, and didn’t speak until she was back in her chair with her own drink held in her hands. “Are you finally going to tell me what happened?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely and persistently.” Andrew paused to blow across the top of his mug and watched the way the steam wafted through the air while he thought about what he’d say. “I discovered what it cost him to protect his friend and himself from Riko Moriyama, and I….” There was no ‘may’, was there? “I was rather harsh in letting him know my opinion of his actions, as well as his friends not stopping him.”

Bee seemed to consider that for about a minute. “In retrospect, do you feel that you overreacted?”

“No.” Andrew only wished that it had been just Moreau and Patel on the phone that morning, not Neil, since they were more deserving of the words he’d spoken. “But I shouldn’t have said what I did to Neil even if he was a stupid fool for what he’d done. Not those words exactly.” He huffed as he gazed into his drink. “Not that it matters now, since his phone’s shut off and Patel’s made it clear that I’m to leave him alone.”

“I take it from what’s not being said that Neil’s made quite the sacrifice, and in a manner that you find… abhorrent.” The amount of understanding in Bee’s expression just then was uncomfortable to acknowledge. “Do you really believe that his friends would allow him to… or are you implying that they encouraged him to do such a thing?” Her brows drew together as she attempted to decipher the mess.

“They benefit from it in more ways than one,” Andrew told her, unwilling to go any deeper into the details of Neil’s private life.

“All right.” She sipped the hot chocolate while gazing at him. “So you upset Neil to the point that he won’t speak to you anymore, and insulted his friends as well. And now you’re alienating your family and teammates. You can’t just push everyone away because you reacted badly to something, Andrew. You’ll only feel worse in the long run.”

“I disagree with that.” It wasn’t like he’d ever felt that good in the first place, unless it was an artificial high. Or he heard Neil laugh over something….

Dammit.

“Do you enjoy being contrary just for the sake of being contrary?” Bee asked with a heavy dose of exasperation. Before Andrew could answer, she shook her head. “Rhetorical question, moving on. Let’s try this instead – what are you going to do in a few weeks when the Foxes are at Edgar Allan to play the Ravens, hmm?” When he stilled upon being reminded of that, Bee sipped her drink with way too much smugness. “You’ll have a chance to see him then, which means you don’t have much time to work out those ‘no feelings’ for him.”

Andrew gave her a flat look in return while her lips curved behind the rim of the mug bearing a yellow smiley face on it and mentally reordered his ‘most evil people in his life’ list.

“Yes, I thought so. I’m free after three-thirty most days, which will cut short your Exy practice a little, but I’m sure David will understand after I talk to him.”

He moved her one spot down the list and gave a slight nod.

It wasn’t that much of a surprise when Wymack allowed him out of practice early to see Bee, arranging for Abby to run him over to the medical center for his appointments, and all it took was for Matheson to make one snide remark about him being ‘mental’ for the asshole to end up running the marathon with his buddy, Hurst. That seemed to settle the two pain the asses for a little bit, while the rest of the team focused on preparing to face the Ravens.

Friday was an away game at Madison, which the Foxes won. It wasn’t that Andrew cared while he was out in the goal, but that it gave him something to do, blocking the shots and firing the ball down the court (and targeting stupid stickball players). It made the evening go by a little faster and would keep Kevin from bitching too much on the ride back home.

There were pictures posted of Neil when Andrew checked his phone, the first ones in a week. As expected, there were a lot of likes and comments on the posts, which were of Neil with Moreau as the Ravens prepared for their games with the Spartans. Neil appeared tired and withdrawn, which Andrew didn’t think was from him playing the part of having just recovered from the flu, and there was only the slightest of smiles on his face even after they won.

He was at least ‘well’ enough to belittle a reporter who seemed incredulous that the Ravens had recovered enough to win against a barely mid-ranked team, telling the woman that it would take more than a virus to incapacitate the Ravens to the point that they couldn’t manage to hold together a defense against an offensive line whose strategy seemed to be ‘eh, just throw the ball around and hope it gets across the goal’, and a defense which was just muscle in padded gear. When Moreau sighed at that, Neil turned to him in apparent confusion and asked in French if anything he’d said was wrong.

“You could have said it a bit better,” Moreau told him in the same language.

Neil sighed as he resumed staring back at the reporters. “Fine, their defense is an impressive bunch of slow-moving weightlifters and their offense should probably consider corrective lenses.” He said that in English with a straight face and an earnest tone… and Andrew didn’t believe him for moment. Neither did Moreau, considering the way that he wiped at his face with his right hand.

Andrew watched the post-game interview on his phone, watched how Neil once again turned to face his partner (the one who hadn’t protected him the same way Neil had protected the weak bastard) with a slightly raised eyebrow and the first real sign of emotion on his face, took in the way that Neil focused on Moreau as if he was the only thing of importance in the room and _felt_ something so bitter and sharp inside of his own chest. He hated Neil just then, _hated_ him (84%)… and couldn’t do a damn thing about it. Couldn’t text Neil or call him or anything.

It was a long ride back to campus, where Andrew drank most of a fifth of whiskey while up in his bed before falling asleep, only to be woken up at some point in the morning by a dream of Riko Moriyama laughing in twisted joy while Drake held Andrew in place to watch Ichirou Moriyama assault an unresisting Neil. He couldn’t do anything, couldn’t fight back, couldn’t pull free as Drake’s strong fingers bit into his arms, as his foster brother’s greater strength held him prisoner and that detested voice murmured in his ear what would happen to him next….

It wasn’t a good start to the day, and it only got worse when he realized that he wouldn’t be calling Neil at some point.

Nicky voluntarily ran out to get more alcohol for him, along with several pints of ice cream, and for once Kevin didn’t say a damn word.

Andrew was back on the roof on Sunday, contemplating another cigarette or not (he didn’t give a fuck about lung cancer, but it was annoying, having to run out so often for more packs all of the time, especially with the way that Kevin bitched about him smoking and Nicky always wanted him to pick up other shit) when Renee showed up dressed in sweatpants and a hooded jacket. “Are we practicing or not?”

He gave her a bland look. “It speaks.”

“I thought that was my line.” She pulled her hair back in a small ponytail and slipped a bright pink scrunchy around the freshly dyed strands. “If you’d rather sit up here and sulk, that’s fine, but I thought you might like to practice.”

Oh, someone had just volunteered to get their ass kicked, hadn’t they?

Renee put a bit more force behind her strikes than usual, was a little more ‘on point’, which left Andrew to believe that not all was forgiven and that was fine with him. It meant he didn’t feel any guilt (ha ha) over bruising her ribs or splitting her lips with his own hits, and he even knocked the knife out of her hand at one point. Of course, she then swiped his feet out from under him and nearly made him bite off the tip of his tongue with the palm to his chin, but still, one counted one’s victories whenever they came along.

“Good,” Renee said with a slight yet pleased nod. “Despite all of the drinking you’ve been doing, you’re still in good shape.”

“Has someone been tattling? How sad,” he remarked as he rubbed along his sore jaw. “I thought Nicky had learned better by now.”

“He’s worried about you,” she explained as she handed over their usual post-fight bottle of water. “He’s not the only one.”

Andrew ignored that bit of ridiculousness while he drank his water, and after a moment Renee sniffed a little and did the same. It was quiet while they rested and rehydrated, and then she tapped her fingers against the plastic bottle. “Marley congratulated Meg on the goal she scored this Friday, so you may be happy to know that Meg no longer wants to see you dead.” When he gave her an even look at that statement, Renee smiled back. “Just maimed a little. Perhaps a broken leg or two?”

“Such good Christian values there,” Andrew remarked as he crushed his empty bottle in his right hand then tossed it aside.

“There’s turning the other cheek and then there’s watching Jesus drive out the money lenders,” Renee told him while still bearing that slight smile. “Sometimes you have to stop being so ‘nice’ if it’s for a good cause.”

“I’m not quite seeing the point you’re making here – unless you want to borrow five dollars and owe me fifty in return.”

“I’m thinking more along the lines of what they say about there being no rage like a righteous person scorned,” Renee said as she picked up the discarded bottle and put it in her bag.

Why did he put up with her once the knives were tucked away? “Actually, the saying is ‘heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, nor hell a fury like a woman scorned’,” he informed her as he stretched out a kink in his back and refused to wince as it pulled a sore muscle in his side. “Read a book other than the trash you call a Bible, why don’t you?”

“Oh! I’m reading a really good one about how to build a stable relationship with your loved one. Want me to lend it to you? I’ve highlighted sections which should help you with Neil.” she asked with a bright smile.

And he’d thought they were done going after each other with sharp weapons for the time being, how foolish of him.

The following week wasn’t that much better, even with Renee speaking to him again and Curtis no longer glaring at him all the time (along with Yee, such a good little puppy). Not that Andrew cared about Neil’s stray little ex-Raven, not when a certain little birdy was walking around all dark and dreary (and wearing Moreau’s windbreakers or sweatshirts most of the time, dammit) in poetic Patel’s social media posts. Andrew thought the girl was taunting him with them, with how Neil was always with Moreau, always at the backliner’s side… always so shut down.

There was even a comment on one of the pictures about ‘little birds thrive with the rest of the flock’. It showed Neil with Moreau and a couple of the bothersome freshmen hovering around him, the most animated Andrew had seen him since the banquet.

Hmm, such a shame if somehow a certain poet’s thumbs got broken during the upcoming Ravens’ game with the Foxes, no? Better yet, her entire hands.

While Bee saw Andrew privately a few times a week in the afternoons, Aaron once more sat in on the Wednesday morning sessions; Bee decided to tackle some of the many issues between the two of them. Andrew supposed that one couldn’t consider the woman an underachiever.

Especially when she started with how Aaron tended to let Andrew resolve his problems for him (stemming from all those years of Tilda controlling and abusing him), and Andrew’s need to ‘fix’ things, (stemming in part from all the years of _his_ inability to have any control over his life).

To give him credit, Aaron was angry at first but refused to leave, especially when Andrew continued to sit there, and after a couple of sullen minutes interacted with Bee, his answers moving beyond terse, monosyllabic responses. He seemed determined to prove that if Andrew could tough it out? He would, too.

That Friday in early October was a home game, so they headed to Eden’s to celebrate the Foxes’ win, as inelegant as it was. Andrew refused to look at his phone that night, to see any pictures or videos of Neil, certain that they’d be watching the Ravens’ game the next day to pick apart the other team. It could wait until then, him checking up on Neil, on seeing if things had gotten better or worse, because there was something he wanted to do that night.

Roland was surprised when Andrew gave him the signal that he wanted to rendezvous in the one storeroom, but was quick to grin and nod in agreement.

Until it was time for the bartender to take his break, Andrew returned to the table where the others were waiting with the tray of drinks, and bided his time with shots and a couple of packets of cracker dust. While Aaron and Nicky made fools of themselves out on the dance floor, Kevin rambled on about what the Foxes needed to do in order to score enough points against the Ravens and complained about why the team wasn't functioning better (because Kevin had fed his little mini-me's ego a bit too much and created a massive problem which he refused to deal with, basically).

When Roland let Andrew know to go to the storeroom in another half an hour when he returned to the bar for another round, Andrew nodded even though he felt a distinct lack of anticipation or desire at the confirmation. It was... it was as if he'd scheduled an appointment, of all things, and his body was on autopilot when he touched Roland, when he went through the motions of getting down on his knees and wrapping his hand around the man’s thick cock. He didn't even respond until he closed his eyes and thought about Neil, about how his little bird would look with eyes closed and face flushed, red curls falling onto that gorgeous face and lean body taut.

Andrew knew he should stop himself, that he should clear his mind of the image and focus on Roland instead… but it was just a fantasy, right? He was never going to have Neil so what did it hurt? Why not allow himself a few minutes of something, even if it was just _pretend_ , just a _fantasy_ (to go along with the damn pipedream), something to get himself hard and allow himself to come while he sucked off another guy.

"Is everything okay?" Roland asked as he remained slumped against the wall, thankfully tucked back in his leather pants once it was over.

Andrew looked aside as he grabbed the bar towel he'd set on the floor earlier to clean himself up. "I'm fine." Just saying those words made him think of Neil, made the ache in his chest grow worse. So once he was done and the towel discarded, he rocked up onto his feet and grabbed a bottle of whiskey. "Add this to my tab," he told the bartender before walking out without a backward glance.

He only allowed himself a couple of shallow swigs from the bottle while still at the club since he was driving everyone home, and then drank enough that he was feeling it the next morning. At least he didn’t have any coherent dreams that night.

It didn't help that he found out that Neil was in New York City that weekend, more 'promotional' campaigns.

It was Nicky who braved coming into the kitchen, skirting around the broken glass and puddle of coffee on the floor from where Andrew had thrown the coffee pot after checking his phone while waiting for it to finish brewing. He was currently perched on the counter near the machine with an empty bottle of vodka in his hand (always at least one in the freezer, Kevin was good for something, after all), trying to figure out if it was worth the effort to move or not.

"Uhm, so, rough morning?" Nicky asked with an apprehensive smile, his hair sticking up in several directions since he hadn't showered yet and dressed in a pair of rainbow pajama bottoms and pink shirt emblazoned with 'u want it' across the front in glitter letters.

Andrew gave him a flat look before going back to staring into the empty bottle. "Go away."

"Ah, okay, that's a yes." Nicky hesitated a moment before getting a broom out of the small closet near the fridge then sweeping up the glass fragments - and yelped when the vodka bottle just missed hitting him when Andrew threw it. "Dammit, Andrew! What's wrong with you?"

What wasn't? "Go ‘way."

For a moment it looked as if Nicky would do just that, and then his chin, covered in dark stubble, jutted out and he resumed sweeping up the mess, coffee spreading across the floor as he gathered up the glass in a pile. "No, we're taking care of this now, I'm tired of you doing a Kevin and being drunk most nights." He went to get a dust pan, his attention divided on Andrew while he swept up and threw away the glass, then he mopped up the coffee as well. "I get it, it sucks when you care about someone and they don't want anything to do with you, but you're not gonna make it better by acting like this."

"Shut up," Andrew told him in a quiet voice as he leaned forward a little, only to stop when his head throbbed and stomach heaved at the motion.

"No."

The refusal made Andrew hop off of the counter, and Nicky flinched at first before he placed his hands on his hips and shook his head, his expression wary even as he stood his ground. "Doing your usual scary stuff hasn't gotten you anywhere, Andrew. So, uhm, sit down and I'll make some breakfast, okay?"

Andrew stared at him for several seconds and almost walked away before Nicky gave him a tentative smile. "Waffles, I'll make waffles."

Not above bribery, Andrew didn't say anything as he skirted around his cousin and sat down at the table, fingers rubbing along the rough fabric of his armbands while Nicky searched through the cupboards and fridge until he had everything he needed for a late breakfast and sang beneath his breath in Spanish and German while he made waffles, eggs and sausages. There was even instant coffee, which he set down at the edge of the table as if leery of approaching Andrew, at least until the food was done, and then he put a plate loaded with food along with the bottle of real maple syrup next to Andrew's left elbow.

Nothing was said until Andrew was about halfway through the thick, fluffy waffle, the syrup nearly spilling off of his plate. "So... ah, Neil?" Nicky dared to ask.

"No," Andrew said, mouth full of food which actually made his stomach settle.

It seemed that Nicky wasn't in the mood to buckle that morning, how unusual. "You need to talk about this, I know you don't like to, but you do. I keep telling you that I'm here for you." When Andrew picked up his plate so he could finish eating upstairs, Nicky made a loud noise in protest and got up to block him. "Just listen for once, okay? I know how miserable it can feel when you want someone and you think they're out of reach. That was basically me until I started dating Erik." Nicky grinned in joy as he thought about his boyfriend, which made Andrew want to gag. "So if there's anything I can do to make you that happy, I'll do it."

"Drive me to New York and distract a few bodyguards so I can kill a guy," Andrew told him.

Nicky blanched at that. "Okay, _almost_ anything."

Some people, no sense of resolve.

"I mean, stuff like listen to you or offer advice or non-stabby stuff. Something that won't get me sent to prison," Nicky continued in a rush. "I'm not meant to go to prison, I'm too delicate."

Andrew merely shrugged as he went over to the counter and grabbed another waffle then returned to the table.

"But I'm good with relationship stuff." At Andrew's narrow look, Nicky had the grace to shrug. "I'm better than anyone else in this house, right? I mean, I at least have a boyfriend."

"Who cares?"

"Hmm, right." Nicky cast a significant glance over at the potless coffeemaker.

"He's not my boyfriend," Andrew tried to argue, only for Nicky to wave it aside.

"Yeah, yeah, you and labels, got it. Whatever he is or isn't, you have to talk to each other again. I can help with that."

Right. "Go get a new coffee pot," Andrew told his cousin. "That you can do."

"But...." Nicky glanced at the food on or near the stove then back at Andrew. "Fine, but I'm not giving this up! I'm your wingman whether you like it or not."

"Not," Andrew declared as he added more syrup to his food.

"Ha, ha." Nicky shuffled off to get dressed (or something), which left Andrew in peace to finish his breakfast.

It wasn't that he thought that Nicky had a point, but that night when Kevin managed to gain control of the television and made them all watch the latest Ravens' game, Andrew only nursed a couple of beers while he focused on Neil running up and down the court, fleet of foot as always. Everyone was oddly quiet when Neil was on the screen, not even Aaron making any snarky comments for once, and Kevin only referring to how difficult it would be to take on the Ravens' unified offense.

Things appeared back to normal on Sunday, at least with Renee, which meant that Andrew was nursing a bruised right cheek and a sore left knee while a supposedly good Christian hummed in satisfaction despite the fact that her bleeding bottom lip made drinking water a little difficult.

"Neil's in New York."

Renee's aura of satisfaction disappeared as her roughened hands clenched around the bottle. "Oh."

"Yeah, 'oh'."

"I thought you were a bit determined today." She frowned as she licked at the blood on her lip. "It's... it's his own choice, Andrew."

He scoffed at that. "Right, just like it's his choice to be in the Nest in the first place. Free will abounds there, especially in the perfect court - Kevin doesn't need a sippy cup of special juice to recover from what Riko did to him and Curtis asked for playtime with you because she likes the exercise." He slipped a knife free and flipped it in the air twice. "Here I thought I was off the happy pills, too. Darn that tricky Bee for pulling the wool over my eyes.”

Renee gave him a sour look before dabbing at her mouth with the back of her left hand. “That was a bit much, wasn’t it?”

“I thought a good Christian girl like you wouldn’t blame the victim… but then again, _Christian_ ,” he said with the slightest of sneers.

She made a visible effort to control her temper, which meant that he’d scored a direct hit, a point for him. “I’m _not_ blaming Neil. I’m just trying to say that there’s more to the situation than you’re taking into consideration.” Her eyes narrowed for a moment when his fingers tightened around the hilt of the knife. “I don’t believe that Marley or Jean, let alone Meg, forced him to do anything, other than the fact that he acted out of concern for them. If you’d stop to think, you’d see that, too.”

“Curtis said-“

“She said that Moriyama – through Neil’s uncle - treated her and Marley to a nice stay in the city, and that it’s clear that he and Neil’s uncle also look after Neil.” Renee gave him a disapproving glance before she fussed with her bottle of water. “I got a little more out of her – a _little_ – in the past couple of weeks.” There was another reproachful look. “Just enough to help clear the air, as it were, but she’s more careful about what she says now. And my impression is that Neil definitely was shielding her from a lot of things. Probably because he doesn’t want her to know the truth about the Moriyamas and his family as well, and I think he did the right thing.”

Andrew ran his right thumb along the edge of the knife’s blade as he thought about that. “And Patel?”

Renee sighed before she took a sip of water. “Meg always thought that Marley held something back from her, but she was content to let it be since she was still part of the group. I’m now wondering if Marley found out the truth somehow, especially since she’s always kept her distance from Dan and me, and she’s being so protective of Neil.”

The blade bit into the fleshy ball of Andrew’s thumb until blood ran down to his palm. “And you honestly think she gives a damn about Neil?”

The deceptive calmness of his voice made Renee set the bottle of water aside with a smooth, slow motion and hold her hands out from her sides. “Andrew… would I be able to stop you from doing something to protect Aaron, Nicky and Kevin? Hmm?” She held his gaze until he clicked his tongue and wiped the blade clean on his black sweatpants. “I get the impression that Neil’s just as stubborn as you.”

“Maybe,” he said as he slipped the weapon back into the armband. If that was the case, then even with Bee’s help (and Nicky’s bothering), Andrew wasn’t going to get anywhere with a certain Raven.

Renee must have guessed his thoughts because she offered him an encouraging smile. “It’ll get better, you’ll see. He really cares for you or else he wouldn’t be so upset. He just needs a little time to recover and then you two can work on moving forward.”

Yes, because that was something Andrew did so well, and there was the _tiny_ fact that Neil was still Moriyama _property_ in more ways than one.

Andrew also didn’t quite believe that Patel and Moreau didn’t play some part in Neil handing himself over to Ichirou Moriyama – especially Moreau. Perhaps Patel hadn’t fully understood everything, but Moreau had spent several years in the Nest, had grown up with Riko and Kevin. _He_ would have known the truth.

Had the Moriyamas found out about the backliner helping Kevin get out of the Nest? Had Moreau given up Neil to save himself?

Andrew would have a chance to find out soon enough.

The Foxes were still a mess, compared to the previous year, but Wilds and Wymack were doing everything they could to prepare the team for the game against the Ravens; the defensive line wasn’t too bad, at least until White was out on court and got flustered and earned a yellow card for being too aggressive. Wymack wasn’t about to risk Hayes out in the goal for such an important game, not that the kid was asking for any court time up against the best team in the division (Hayes was more than fine with a quarter here and there with the lower ranked teams to build up his skills), so that left Hurst and Matheson.

Hurst still wasn’t anywhere near Curtis’ level, so the simple truth of the matter was that unless they were a dealer down due to an injury, she wouldn’t play that night, either. Which meant that there was a lot of bitching and tantrums from the rookie, but the Foxes needed to improve their overall point score that Hurst and her fellow freshmen were in large part responsible for being so low that late in the season if they were going to place in the top four let alone rank second.

It still left them with Matheson on the offensive line, but there wasn’t much choice there since they only had three strikers. Kevin seemed to be trying to get the little shit to embrace the concept of teamwork, but Matheson seemed to think he could take on the Ravens (could take on _Neil_ ) by himself.

Andrew thought he might feel the slightest bit of amusement, watching the rookie asshole get owned on court come the night of the game.

He distracted himself until the Ravens’ game by focusing on schoolwork and not maiming Kevin as he was dragged out to sit through extra-long night practices. There was working with Bee as well, with and without Aaron, and some days he didn’t understand why he’d agreed to leave California for South Carolina when it seemed that nothing would ever be good enough for his brother. _Ever_.

And sometimes… sometimes Aaron would fall quiet and look at him, really _look_ at him, and not be so much of a bastard for a few minutes or the rest of the session, would seem to consider what he said for the remainder of the day as if there’d been some big realization.

Bee would have that tiny smug smile on her lips afterwards, so Andrew wasn’t certain that it was worth it in the end.

The day of the game at Edgar Allan, the Foxes boarded the bus in the morning, most of them excited about the prospect of facing such a prestigious team. Andrew noticed how his brother’s attention had lingered on the Vixens as they were grouped around their own bus, farther down the parking lot, before looking away with a shuttered expression, and then was busy dealing with a nervous Kevin.

Someone wasn’t too happy about visiting his old alma mater, even though Riko was gone and Tetsuji had been oddly quiet in the past few weeks. There wasn’t a threat looming over Kevin’s head anymore for him to forcibly return to Edgar Allan, especially not when he’d proven to everyone that he’d moved out of Riko’s shadow, but Andrew supposed the one downside of the psychotic bastard being locked up was that Kevin never really got any resolution on that end.

Perhaps if Kevin asked Ichirou really, really nicely, he could be the one to blow out the former ‘king’s’ brains.

It was even more annoying to be stuck on a bus for several hours with four freshmen (well, three of them, since White was quiet –but then Curtis made up for her), so Andrew put in his earbuds to muffle the noise a little, leveled his most flat look at anyone who even attempted to step near the back of the bus (or Kevin when he turned around to talk), and slept for the first few hours.

After that, he checked his phone and found some new pictures of Neil, taken on the Edgar Allan campus that morning. There was a lot of black and red, offset by the orange, red and yellow of autumn leaves, and Neil was huddled in a Raven’s jacket (his own for once) while giving the camera an aggrieved look in one of the photos as if to say ‘you’re wasting my time’. It already had thousands of ‘likes’ on it, as Neil was perfectly offset by the seasonal backdrop and Ravens’ banners, his hair gleaming bright in the sunlight and eyes almost glowing.

The rest were the usual – Neil and Moreau lost in some sort of discussion, appearing almost ridiculous with their height difference but still matched with their outfits and tattoos and striking good looks. Neil and Patel, with the girl doing something to earn a frown from him that appeared a moment away from turning into a smile. Neil and Moreau and Patel with the damn freshmen hovering off to the side, their attention riveted on Neil.

Bee had worked with Andrew in the past week, had gone over various focusing and calming exercises with him in anticipation of tonight. Nicky had left various print-outs of ‘how to win back your man’ articles and other nonsense pinned around the suite until Andrew threatened to shove them down his throat if the pest didn’t get rid of them. Renee was ‘praying’ for him.

Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad, being thrown off of the roof of Fox Tower if it didn’t work out tonight, talking to Neil. It certainly would be better than putting up with everyone interfering (meddling) in his life.

In the awful, gaping emptiness in the center of his chest.

Andrew started playing some music and reading a book when Matheson and Yee got into a fight over who would score more points that evening, and reached over to smack Kevin in the back of the head when he noticed his friend fidgeting in his seat when they saw the signs for Edgar Allan. “Nothing’s going to happen to you there.”

“I know that,” Kevin told him once he pulled out the earbuds. “It’s just… for so long I never wanted to come back here. And then I told myself we’d come to take away Riko’s crown.” Kevin managed a poor excuse of a smile. “That’s never going to happen now.”

No, and they wouldn’t even be showing up the Ravens on their own court – not that night, at least. “Settle for proving to the old prick that he didn’t break you,” Andrew told the semi-coward, and nodded when Kevin’s expression morphed into one of resolve. Much better.

Wymack clapped his hands together to get everyone’s attention as Abby drove the bus through the gates of Edgar Allan’s campus. “All right, it’s not a championship game, not yet,” that earned cheers from most of the morons, “but I still want you on your best behavior since there’ll be a lot of press around tonight.” He gave a pointed look at Andrew for some reason. “It’s going to be a full crowd and lots of Ravens’ fans, but we’re not going to let that get to us, right?”

“Yeah, I’m sure they’ll be so happy that their little traitor is back,” Hurst sneered while Matheson laughed, their attention focused on Curtis who gave them a sweet smile and the finger in return for the jab; the Ravens hadn’t reacted too badly to her switching schools, largely because Neil, Moreau and the others (mostly Patel and those with active social media accounts) had gone out of their way to show that they still counted Curtis as a friend and weren’t upset about her being a Fox. If their ‘idols’ weren’t angry about Curtis’ defection, then the fans couldn’t take too much offense.

“Sheena, you’re running two miles when we get to Evermore,” Wymack told the dealer, his voice gruffer than normal from disappointment. When she started to protest, he shook his head. “No, maybe that’ll remind you that the team comes first, and it’ll be great practice for the marathon next week. Now, you wanna say anything else and add on another mile?” He stared her down until she grumbled and slumped in her seat.

When there weren’t any other snide remarks or comments, he went over some key points of the Ravens’ starting lineup as they drove through the small campus; Andrew thought he did it more as a distraction for Kevin than anything. Soon enough they pulled up to Castle Evermore, the huge stadium where Kevin had spent so much of his childhood, the home of the Ravens and the official Court stadium as well, the parking lot growing full despite the game still being a couple of hours away.

Parking guards directed them to a spot close to the Away team entrance, and guards dressed in black and red led them through gates and behind bleachers and down a tunnel and along dark painted hallways until they reached the away team locker room. All the while, Curtis talked about the four towers and the Red and Black Halls, about what they should expect in the Nest since Kevin was being rather quiet all of a sudden.

“There’s a nice lounge area, but no stalls in the showers, sorry,” Curtis told them. “You know, I got used to them at Palmetto, they are nice, but it’s all open here.”

“We’ll manage, most universities don’t have them.” Renee gave Wymack a grateful smile while she spoke.

“But at least there’ll be room for everyone to practice out on court before the game,” Curtis continued. “Oh, it’s going to be so odd, stepping out there as a Fox and not a Raven.” She laughed as Wilds gave her a one-armed hug.

“Just remember which team you’re trying to beat, princess,” Hurst sneered.

Curtis shot her an even look while Yee rolled his eyes. “It’s not a problem, not when I’ve taken down a good bit of my old team out on that court all last year. Too bad you can’t say the same.”

“When are you going to learn that you can’t win against her?” Yee taunted Hurst with a proud grin.

Hurst gave him the finger, which she hastily hid when Wymack stepped forward. "Enough. Save the fighting for the Ravens." He stepped closer to Kevin and patted him on the shoulder. "You okay?"

Kevin nodded, the motion a little jerky but his expression determined. "It's like Meg said, a bit odd to be here on the other side."

"You'll get used to it," Wymack assured him. "We'll keep coming back here, and soon enough we'll take one of those fancy banners with us."

That prompted more cheers from the morons. "They're nothing without Riko, and we have Kevin!" Matheson proclaimed. "They're going down!"

"How many times do I have to tell you, stop underestimating them!" Kevin glared at the rookie striker while Yee gloated, having already dealt with the Ravens twice already. "Neil's good enough to be Court, probably once he graduates, and the same with Jean. They're perfect court for a reason, and if anything... the team's growing stronger without Riko," he admitted. "We're not going to win tonight, we're going to struggle to not lose badly."

"But-"

"No," Kevin told him with a stern look. "Pay attention today and learn the difference between an average player and Court. Maybe it'll make you try better in the future." He gazed around the locker room before grabbing his duffel bag. "Maybe it'll make _all_ of you try better."

Reynolds and Boyd made rude gestures in Kevin's direction while Wymack rubbed the back of his neck as if to stave off a headache. "Right, _you're_ certainly not doing the pre-game interview, Mr. Personality. Dan and Renee, you're on that, and try to make it sound as if we're not total failures."

"I think I can do a better job than Kevin," Wilds said while rolling her eyes.

"I think a trained parrot can do a better job than Kevin," Boyd muttered.

"Well, at least he's not going 'we're gonna die on court', yeah?" Nicky offered as he pulled his uniform out of his duffel bag. "It's an improvement? Somewhat of an improvement?"

"I can't believe we're missing the Halloween party at Eden's for this," Aaron complained as he threw his t-shirt into his locker.

Yes, another thrilling night of watching Kevin get drunk, Nicky and Aaron flail on the dance floor, and witness an array of what should be embarrassing costumes. Yet people wondered what Andrew had against holidays.

He finished dressing in his uniform and went into the lounge area to wait for Curtis, who came out a couple of minutes later with Renee, Reynolds and Wilds. "Where's the Home locker room?" he asked, intent on finding Neil before the teams had to report out on court.

Curtis' smile slipped at the question and she shook her head, her ponytail flapping at the sudden motion. "No, not gonna happen."

"Yes," Andrew countered, and at Renee's concerned look, added a brief explanation. "It's talk. Just talk."

"I don't care," Curtis snapped at him while Wymack came over and Wilds stood behind her in a protective manner. "Marley and Jean made it clear that you're not to be anywhere near Neil, and I'm not letting them down again. I'm not telling you anything."

"Andrew, let this go," Wilds warned as she tugged on the front of her jersey. "Don't do anything that'll get you in trouble before the game."

He continued to gaze at Curtis, who shook her head once more, then gave a quick two-fingered salute. "Just going to stretch my legs before the big game, Cap'n. All that good exercise, yes?"

"Minyard, don't go starting trouble," Wymack called out.

"Oh ye of little faith, Coach, you need to talk to Joan of Exy some more and fix that." Andrew opened the door leading into the Nest and took a hasty step back when he found a very tall and broad figure dressed in black and red standing in front of it as an obvious deterrent.

"You lost?" the guard asked with a strong British accent. "Court's the other way."

Andrew noticed the pathetic attempt to hide a holstered gun beneath the black blazer and the other guard lounging against the wall a few feet away. "Just need some fresh air."

"It's the other way, too," the Moriyama (or was it Hatford?) muscle told him, a mocking lilt to his lips that wasn't quite a smile.

"But I like the air out there so much better." While he spoke, Andrew folded his arms over his chest, his fingertips at the edges of his armguards.

"I assure you, the air is so much healthier on the court." The guard leaned forward, close enough to make Andrew want to twitch at his proximity. "And a runt like you? You look as if you need a lot of healthy air, so run off now, eh?"

Before Andrew could shove a knife in the man’s throat, Renee sidled near the door and beamed at the bastard. "It's so nice of you to be concerned about Andrew like that. But perhaps if-"

"Go play your game," the hired muscle told them, all attempts at ‘nicety’ gone. "You know there's nothing else here for you."

No, it appeared that people were determined to keep Andrew _away_ from what was here for him - big difference. But before he could do or say anything, the bastard reached out to slam the door shut.

Andrew went to try opening it again, and found the door locked.

"Uhm... isn't that a fire hazard?" White asked when Andrew kicked the door after twisting the door knob a few times. "Shouldn't we call someone?"

Kevin gave her a pitying look. "We should just do what they say and go out on the court."

One wondered how they were going to keep a little birdy all tucked away from a big bad fox out in the open, so Andrew stalked across the lounge to the exit leading out onto the court.

In his three years as a Fox, he'd been to a wide range of stadiums as a collegiate Exy player, especially after reaching the semi-championship round last spring. Up until then, he would have said that the Trojans' had the most impressive stadium out of all the teams, but now he understood Kevin's endless complaints about the Foxhole Court and how it was 'barely adequate'. Castle Evermore was huge and, despite being older, appeared almost brand new due to constant upkeep. And despite its massive size, the numerous seats were already over halfway full of fans in black and red jerseys, sweatshirts and jackets, with only a few spots of orange and white scattered about.

Andrew spared a few seconds glancing about while the Foxes gawked around them, and then focused on the figures in black and red across the court, already busy warming up to the crowds' delight. As the Foxes stepped forward, the Ravens' one assistant coach, Nakamura, approached Wymack along with an unknown Japanese man whom Andrew had seen a few times in the background at recent Ravens' games at his side.

"Coach Wymack, here's the line-up for today's game." Nakamura handed over a folded sheet of paper with both hands. "Also, you will keep your team to the Away side and outer court for any warm-up or drills."

Wymack accepted the paper even as his back stiffened. "That's not going to be a problem."

"Ensure it isn't." Nakamura waited for Wymack to hand him the Foxes' line-up (not too difficult to figure out), during which the stranger gave Andrew a pointed look, making him feel oh so special.

Wymack held the piece of paper in his hand out of reach for a moment. "You make it sound as if you think my team's here to cause trouble." There was a slight roughness to his voice that made Wilds scowl and Renee go still while Kevin shuffled closer to Andrew as if to hide behind him.

“I believe you know exactly whom I’m referring to,” Nakamura said as he held out his hand for the line-up. As soon as Wymack gave it to him, he bowed his head the slightest amount and turned away, while the other guy lingered long enough to exchange a look with Andrew.

“That wasn’t creepy at all,” Wilds remarked as she glanced at Andrew. “You know him? The new guy?”

“Not yet.” But Andrew would soon enough, one way or another.

“You heard him, Andrew. Stay the hell away from Josten and the rest of the Ravens.” Wymack gave him a stern gaze and held up his right hand when Andrew went to speak. “No. _No_. No bullshit or smart remarks or _anything_ , that wasn’t a friendly warning and you know it. You don’t drag this team into whatever you have going on with Josten, I’m sorry.”

“What, only _you_ can for your ex-girlfriend’s son?” Andrew asked in a bland manner, and knew he’d scored a point when Wymack’s face grew flushed. Before the man could stutter out some sort of excuse, he walked away.

The woman from the Fall banquet – Janna – pushed away from the wall where she’d been standing as he approached the center of the court but didn’t make a more overt move than that when Andrew stopped to watch the Ravens work on their warm-up exercises. A few of them (mostly the freshmen) glanced his way, but Neil, Moreau and Patel continued with their stretches as if he wasn’t there, along with the upperclassmen.

Neil… Neil looked good, from what Andrew could tell. He easily bent over to press his face against his thighs while his fingers gripped his toes, the flexible bastard, then twisted his neck to say something to Moreau as he held the pose. Patel got up and pressed against his shoulders, not that he could really bend over any more, and laughed when he yanked on her dark brown braid.

There was no sign of hesitation or wincing when Neil stood up to stretch his hamstrings or arms, his motions fluid and expression calm. He helped the freshmen with their stretches and then went off with Moreau, probably for a pre-game interview… and never once glanced over at the Away side of the court.

But Patel did, her expression hardening when she caught sight of Andrew, and she went over to Janna for a couple of minutes, the two women huddled together as they spoke, before the striker returned to her team.

During that time, Andrew noticed that Bren had been stationed further down the court, closer to Neil, and had divided his attention between Andrew and Neil before trailing after the little bird.

Janna came over to Andrew, dressed in the same black and red windbreaker emblazoned with ‘staff’ on the right chest and black khaki pants that Nakamura had worn. She stopped out of reach and there was that quietness to her which reminded him of Renee, a seeming mildness offset with too much behind those dark brown eyes, an inner tension in her tall, slim body and a little too much blankness in her expression (at least she didn’t _smile_ ). “Meg passed on the message that you’re not to come near Neil, and Nakamura told you to stay on the Away side of the court. You’re supposed to be intelligent, Minyard, so prove it. Don’t cause a scene today.”

Oh, ultimatums? He did _so well_ with ultimatums, didn’t he? “How is it a scene if I’m just talking to Neil, hmm? Seems to me that you’re being the unreasonable one, here.”

“Because _Neil_ doesn’t want to talk to you,” Janna told him, and he wondered if he had reacted in some way, had let something show, because she cocked her head to the side. “You think _we’re_ keeping him from you, don’t you? We’re just respecting his wishes.”

“Let _him_ tell me that then.” Andrew wanted to hear it from _Neil_ , to know that it wasn’t Moreau and Patel doing whatever they could to… to… well, to ensure that Ichirou Moriyama remained happy.

“You don’t comprehend things well, do you?” When Andrew stepped forward, Janna echoed the motion to block him. “Go back to your team, Minyard,” she warned as some of that blankness fell away and the darkness grew stronger. “It’s going to cost you, getting anywhere near Neil.”

“No roofs around here,” he taunted. “What are you going to do, hmm? Seems to me that _you’ll_ be the one causing a scene, yet another scandal for the trouble-prone Ravens, how sad.”

Janna merely gave him a small, satisfied, _dark_ smile. “Go back to your team and ask Kevin Day about something _personal_ he left behind when he abandoned the Ravens. _That’s_ what it’ll cost you if you try to talk to Neil today – you and Day.” Then she nodded once and walked away.

For a moment Andrew almost followed her onto the Home side of the court – followed her past the line and punched her first in the kidneys and then the head until she collapsed on the hard floor, then went to confront Neil. But oh, did someone know him the slightest bit? _Did they_?

All those calls, all those shared truths?

He stared at the Ravens lining up for what appeared to be their laps around the inner court then forced himself to go back to the Foxes, to _Kevin_ – to his owed obligation. Wymack was yelling at everyone to prepare to run laps around the outer ring, and Andrew didn’t stop until he grabbed onto Kevin’s left arm and dragged him aside.

“Andrew? What the hell, what’s going on? Let go!”

“ _What the hell does Moreau have on you_?” Andrew asked in French as his fingers tightened around Kevin’s arm before he forced himself to let go. “ _What’s this ‘personal’ thing you left behind? The same thing he brought up when they dropped off Curtis?_ ”

It took a second or two, but Kevin’s face took on an ashy tone as the blood drained from it. “Wait – _what_? What did he say? You talked to him? Did he mention the-“ He caught himself as he jerked his hand through his hair and began to swear in Japanese.

“ _The **what**_ **?** ” Andrew’s eyes narrowed as he allowed the coward about three seconds of a mini panic attack before kicking Kevin in the right shin. “ _What does he have on you_?” Whatever it was, it appeared powerful enough indeed to block Andrew from Neil, at least that day. Until Andrew figured out a way to counter what appeared to be blackmail of some sort.

Kevin wheezed a little as he shook his head. “ _Does he… is he going to use it_?” For some reason Kevin glanced over to the rest of the Foxes. “ ** _Is he_**?”

“ _Only if I try to talk to Neil_.” Andrew attempted to put the pieces together, the little that Neil and Moreau had said on the matter. “ _What is it_?” It must be something physical, some sort of proof since Kevin had ‘left it behind’.

“ _Not here, not today_ ,” Kevin insisted. “ _I-_ “

He started when Wymack yelled at them to join the others in warming up, the motion exaggerated even for a panicking coward. Andrew also noticed how Kevin wouldn’t look at their coach, how he kept his head down and gaze away from the man as Wymack continued to bitch them out about wasting time and pulling stupid shit.

Kevin might be arrogant and not have a high opinion of most of the Foxes, but he respected Wymack and went along with everything their coach wanted of them, unless it was to argue for something which he felt would improve their game.

So did the threat have something to do with Wymack? Or something that Kevin thought would make Wymack upset with him?

Andrew gave Kevin a look to tell him that they _would_ revisit the topic later and began jogging (if one wanted to call it that) with the rest of the Foxes, which Kevin recoiled at then seemed to do his best to ignore. After the first lap, Renee fell in step beside Andrew, a worried expression on her face. “Do you need help with anything?” Then she seemed to think better of what she said. “Is there something non-violent that I can do?” Reynolds, who was right beside her, snorted at that.

“Better add ‘and won’t land me in jail’, hon.”

Andrew fixed his gaze ahead of him. “I stand by that ‘you have lousy taste in women’ statement.”

“So that’s a ‘no’,” Renee said while Reynolds muttered about ‘shitty monsters’. “I’m sorry, Andrew. I’d hoped that Neil had calmed down by now.”

“More like came to his senses,” Reynolds remarked in a snide tone.

“Allison….”

“What? The kid can do so much better than the monster there, I’m just saying!”

Andrew increased his pace for a few steps, and Renee left him alone after that.

After jogging a few laps, the Foxes (except Hurst) retreated to the lounge for about half an hour while Wilds and Renee did the pre-game interview, then everyone went back out to the court to work on some drills before the game. By then the stadium was full, and despite the crowd, the Ravens fans were more orderly than many other crowds, weren’t booing the Foxes or anything, though they did let out some cheers or stomped their feet when Neil, Patel and Tollis scored while practicing.

Andrew noticed how Aaron’s attention was snared by his little Vixen when the Foxes’ pep squad came out to join them, noticed the forlorn expression on his brother’s face and the way the girl kept staring after him as well. He noticed how Kevin took to glancing after Moreau and what appeared to be sadness in his eyes when he gazed at all the ‘3&4’ signs up in the seats – signs which had probably replaced the ‘1&2’ ones that had been there just two years ago.

Wilds went out to meet Moreau on court for the coin toss, and it came down in Moreau’s favor. After suffering through yet another of Wymack’s miserable speeches, Andrew sat on the bench while Wilds, Boyd, Aaron, Kevin, Yee and Renee went out on court, to play against Moreau, Neil, Tollis, McPherson, Ivanova, and Hebig.

Unlike last year, Kevin was back in prime form, wasn’t handicapped by what Riko had done to him, was able to play with his left hand. But he was also left rattled by what Andrew had talked to him about, at least for the first few minutes of the game, until the Ravens’ almost unnatural synchronization and skill forced him to focus.

Unlike last year, Neil wasn’t a rookie and had more experience under his belt. He wasn’t Kevin, wasn’t a prodigy raised on Exy, but there was a reason why Kevin had wanted him for a Fox, why he bore that damn ‘4’ on his cheek, why the rumors about him and Court grew stronger each month. The Ravens had taken raw talent and honed it to the closest thing out there to compete with Kevin, and where Kevin had precision, Neil had speed to counter – speed and a much better team at his back.

The Foxes still couldn’t come close to the Ravens, especially when Yee, who was steadily improving (not as fast as Neil, he just wasn’t that good, would never be Court), was pulled off so Matheson could have his turn out on court. The rookie was all cocky smiles at first, despite the fact that Kevin had only managed one goal to the Ravens’ three, and seemed to try to stare down Neil.

Neil barely acknowledged him.

The ball back in Wilds’ possession, she served it down the court, where Boyd caught it and threw it to Kevin – who then tried and failed to get it past Moreau and Hebig. Matheson attempted to help him out, and took to swearing at Hebig while the backliner blocked him with ease. When Kevin dropped the ball due to a hard check by Moreau, of course Neil was right there to scoop it up and take off running.

Matheson tried to catch him but Neil was too fast, yet kept after him when Neil passed it on to Tollis once his ten steps were up. Andrew would guess that Neil said something to piss off the freshman, because after that, Matheson seemed out for Neil’s blood, which almost made for an amusing game because it was like watching a Chihuahua try to take down a feral cat; there was a lot of noise and baring of teeth, and then swift smackdowns in return.

 Such as when Matheson tried to interfere with Neil when the Raven was headed to score another goal on Renee, actually got in his way and was a second or two away from being yellow carded, and somehow ended up on his ass before the referee could interfere, a pole-axed expression on his face and his racquet out of his hands.

“What the hell? Isn’t the ref going to call that?” Hurst yelled.

“Call what? He tried to check Josten and Josten checked back,” Wymack told her, sounding impressed despite himself. “What do you think me and Kevin have been telling you kids the last few weeks? You don’t take this team lightly.”

The second quarter ended with the score being worse than their first game last year – eight to three – but then again, Renee had been in the goal, not Andrew. She was all apologies in the locker room, but she’d done what she could against the best team in the league, with Kevin hampered by Yee and Matheson.

“I think they’re even better than last year,” she confided in Andrew. “Despite Riko being gone, they’re more unified. You’re going to have trouble out there.”

He gave a slight nod to show that he understood and waited for the break to be over, blanking out Nicky’s whining and the rookies’ bitching. Once it was time, he stepped out on court, his heartbeat racing as he took his place in the goal.

It wasn’t for Exy, for some stupid game, but as he waited for a certain little bird to come out and play, to meet him face to face at last. Of course the third quarter started off with Patel and Engle as the Ravens’ strikers, and Andrew took some sort of satisfaction in shutting down the goal; he wasn’t on medication any longer, wasn’t suffering through withdrawals so it was time that the Ravens learned that there was a Fox or two they couldn’t bulldoze with their nasty tricks or obsessive training.

Poetic Patel glared at him through her visor each time their eyes met, each time he blocked her attempt to score, the hatred she felt for him plain to see. He was used to it, though, and didn’t give a damn. The only thing that bothered him was when she managed to score a point eight minutes or so into the quarter, the ball just a hair too far out of his reach.

She gave him the finger as he went to collect the ball, and Bee would be proud of him that he didn’t throw it at the pain in the ass’ head but down the court instead. Bee would owe him for that, dammit.

It was in the last few minutes of the quarter that Neil returned to the game, the crowd’s cheers echoing around the stadium as he stepped out on the court. It was Matheson and Yee as the Fox strikers along with Aaron and Nicky on defense, so Andrew knew things were about to get brutal; Kevin had been pulled to give him a much needed break.

It also meant that Neil couldn’t ignore Andrew for much longer.

Neil and Patel stole the ball from Matheson and Yee with ease time and time again, aided by Moreau and Loiseau, and Nicky couldn’t do much against Patel. Aaron actually tried to hold Neil back, but Neil was too quick for him, too quick and determined and too much even for Boyd to handle, let alone Andrew’s brother.

As for Andrew, he’d paid attention to Neil and Patel in their past games of the seasons, but while he had an idea of the moves they’d make, it still didn’t prepare him for the speed of which the balls would come at his goal, the way the two could switch things up so quickly, the fact that they would adapt and improvise. It spoke of long hours practicing together and trust, of being willing to set up the other for the goal for the sake of the _team_ winning and not individual glory.

As Renee said, the Ravens were stronger with Riko being gone.

Andrew had improved since coming off the meds, but so had the two strikers who had become even faster and more certain in their abilities. As much as he’d scoffed at the freshmen for ignoring Kevin’s warnings about the Ravens, he realized that part of him had downplayed them, too, had taken for granted that he’d be able to meet Neil on equal ground that season, and now he was being proven wrong.

He met Neil’s eyes as his friend scored a goal on him, the pale blue as arresting as always, and couldn’t look away from the intense emotion shining in them, something akin to betrayal and anger. Neil didn’t say anything, didn’t speak or gesture to him, just stared back for a couple of seconds before turning away and running back to the center of the court.

Neil scored two more goals on him before the end of the game, pulled out for a while so Engle could be put back in and then returned for the last few minutes with Tollis. Even with Kevin, Boyd and Curtis in the fourth quarter, the Ravens ended up winning the game, fourteen to eight – with Kevin scoring all but one of those points himself (Curtis had gotten the other one).

The last chance of the night for Andrew to talk to Neil was during the ‘good game’ line-up bullshit… and somehow, he wasn’t surprised as while the crowd’s cheers and pounding stomps filled the air, he stood next to Kevin and faced off against Moreau and Patel without Neil anywhere in sight. Moreau gave him a look of utter loathing when he grasped Andrew’s hand (he wasn’t quick enough to pull it away for once) and leaned in a little closer. “ _You are unwanted so **go away**_ ,” he said in French before letting go of Andrew’s hand as if the contact disgusted him.

Patel attempted to grab Andrew’s hand, but he gave her a withering look which made it clear that touching him would cost her. “ _I’ll throw you off that roof myself if you come near him again_ ,” she told him, and there was something in her eyes, in the thrumming tension in her slim body that kept him from scoffing at her words.

Done with Ravens and their nonsense for the night, Andrew walked away after that; Wilds called out to him, but it was Aaron of all people who blocked her attempt to pull him back to the line. Abby was near the entrance to the Away locker room, yet all she did was give him a worried look before stepping aside.

Andrew figured that he’d shower then empty the fifth of whiskey he’d brought along in his bag, but there was a visitor waiting for him in the locker room – an older man about Wymack’s age with blond hair shot with a little grey, a trim build about 5’5”, pale grey eyes and a feature or two which reminded him of Neil. Also? A British accent similar to Neil’s which made Andrew’s chest ache for some damn reason when the man spoke.

“Andrew Minyard.”

“Sure you don’t have Aaron? That’s the tricky thing about twins after all.” Andrew asked as he set his helmet and gloves on a bench then took to leaning against a locker, his hands hovering around the ends of his sleeves.

The man narrowed those grey eyes of his and blew out a plume of smoke in clear annoyance. “I’m not an expert on that damn sport of Nathaniel’s, but I can tell a fuckin’ goalie from a backliner by now. Also? I knew a ‘3’ from a ‘5’ when I was two years old, you mouthy little shit.”

“Considered me duly impressed, Hatford,” Andrew drawled while his fingers tapped against the edges of his armbands – there had to be a point to this.

The guy was quiet for a moment before he huffed. “They said you were smart. Psychotic as hell, but smart.”

“I feel so attacked right now, and you didn’t deny being a Hatford. _Stuart_ Hatford, right?” Andrew fought not to tense when the man nodded, mindful of everything Kevin had told him and Neil had implied about his uncle. “For some reason, I’m not honored by your attention.”

“Honored? No. Shitting balls? Yeah.” Stuart flicked his still burning cigarette at Andrew, which bounced off of his jersey and left a singed spot; Andrew barely flinched. “Touch those knives of yours and your team’s gonna come back to one hell of a mess.”

Andrew fought not to move his hands at _that_ , the implied threat and Hatford knowing about the weapons. “You think an old prick like you can take me?”

Stuart gave him a smile that wasn’t quite like Neil’s cruel one, but held just as much promise of pain. “Kid? I’ve been dealing with obnoxious little fucks like you for _years_. How do you think I’ve gotten to where I am, huh? I’ll blow out your brains before you even pull a knife.” He spoke with such conviction that Andrew found himself hesitating as he took a second to assess the situation, and then the man was suddenly a hell of a lot closer with a gun pointed right at Andrew’s face.

It seemed that Neil got his speed from the Hatford side of the family. “Now you shut the fuck up and listen to me, yeah? Because your team will be here sooner rather than later.”

Andrew had a knife out in each hand in response to the threat in front of him, but dammit, Hatford’s gun did trump his weapons for the moment. “Then hurry the fuck up. What do you want?”

Hatford scoffed at that but didn’t waver at all and kept the gun trained on Andrew’s head. “I’m here to deliver a message, plain and simple. Leave Nathaniel alone.”

“And who’s it from?”

The question made Hatford blink in apparent confusion. “Why does it matter when you’ll be dead if you don’t listen?”

Andrew’s fingers tightened around the knives as he fought not to throw them at the asshole, to lunge forward and sink them into flesh. “What about Neil, hmm? Your nephew? Doesn’t _he_ matter?”

Hatford stared at him as if he was an idiot. “Why do you think I’m here?” When Andrew merely stared back at him, he shook his head. “Listen, kid, you fucked up big time, do you get that? Whatever you did, it made Nathaniel not want anything to do with you so just accept it and move on.”

“Accept the fact that he’s Ichirou’s toy?” Andrew noticed the slight twitch those words produced and wondered if Neil’s uncle approved of the relationship. “You happy about your nephew being Moriyama property, too?”

“This isn’t about me,” Hatford snapped as he took a step forward. “Back the fuck off or get a bullet in your head.”

“That would be a ‘no’, I’m guessing.” Interesting. “So you’re not with Moreau and Patel in selling Neil out?”

The look on Hatford’s face just then was one of pure incredulousness. “Why the hell did Nathaniel think you were of any use, eh? You’re obviously dumb as fuck.” He undid the safety on the Glock as his expression smoothed out. “Let me spell this out for you since you’ve the IQ of a rock. Leave Nathaniel alone. Don’t talk to him. Don’t approach him. Don’t do anything in regards to him unless you feel like committing some sort of passive-aggressive suicide. Now go back to South Carolina, you stupid shit.”

Andrew could at least stab the prick in the kidneys before he was shot in the head, yes? Oh, wait, what had Neil said about the femoral artery?

Before he could make up his mind, Hatford nodded once and began to back up, obviously done with his ‘you’re a dumb fuck so leave poor Neil alone’ speech. “I’m not going to allow Neil to be used,” Andrew called out.

“You really are dumb as fuck,” was all Hatford said as he left the locker room, but Andrew heard the ‘click’ of the safety being put back on.

He’d just washed off, had dressed in casual clothes and was a few sips into the whiskey when the rest of the Foxes finally showed up, Kevin in a bit of a panic and even Wymack appearing concerned. “Everything all right here?” the man asked, not even bothering to chide Andrew for drinking.

“Peachy keen,” Andrew drawled as he raised the whiskey bottle as if in a toast.

“Why is he-“ Matheson appeared offended when Kevin cut him off.

Renee came over, her expression solemn. “We were held back for several minutes for ‘media opportunities’,” she explained. “I’m sorry.”

He shrugged to show her that it was ‘fine’. “Got to meet Neil’s family. He needs to be an orphan very soon.”

“Oh.” She was quiet for a moment then smiled. “Progress, right?”

Somehow, only Renee would consider a family member – who also was a mobster – coming to threaten Andrew by holding a gun to his head in regards to his (detested) crush as ‘progress’. Yet _Andrew_ was the one going to weekly therapy sessions; it was more proof that the universe hated him.

He needed more than a fifth of whiskey. He also needed to get the hell out of PSU.

The ride back to Palmetto was filled with the rookies bitching about how they could have done better against the Ravens if the referees weren’t so biased for the other team (no), how the team could have done better if they had stronger players (they had done better last year without the freshmen so again, NO), and how the hell could the Ravens be so good with mouthy little shits on the line-up (because those ‘mouthy little shits’ were talented players).

Andrew _really_ should have brought more alcohol.

The team reached campus late at night/early in the morning and so crashed in their dorm rooms, and Andrew waited until Saturday night when Kevin wanted to go to court for practice to ask about the ‘personal’ thing again. “What does Moreau have on you?”

Kevin once again became flustered as he slammed his locker shut. “It’s nothing important.”

“Oh, I disagree if it’s something that’ll keep me from approaching Neil.” Andrew slipped a knife free and tapped it against a locker. “Just how ‘personal’ is it? Something about Riko? Tetsuji? You?”

Kevin stared at him with an incredulous expression. “Why do you – wait, _Neil_? Why are you-“ He drew back when Andrew waved the knife in his face. “Neil?”

“Ah ah, I’m the one asking questions, and this has dragged on too long. I don’t like the fact that Moreau is able to hold something over your head, so spill before I carve it out of you.”

For a moment it looked as if Kevin was torn between puking up his guts or running out of the stadium, and then he all but collapsed on the bench. “Coach,” he said, his voice a rough gasp.

“What about Coach?” Andrew asked, and then narrowed his eyes when Kevin was quiet. “This is about Wymack, isn’t it? Does Tetsuji have something on him?” When guilt flashed across Kevin’s face, Andrew moved in for the kill. “I can’t protect you or him if I don’t know what it is.”

His large, calloused hands tearing through his black hair as if the pain centered him, Kevin took a couple of ragged breaths before he spoke. “Father.”

“What about him? Does Coach know him?” Then it hit Andrew and made him scoff. “Oh you damn _coward_.” Not in regards for letting Riko and Tetsuji push him around for so long, which _might_ have some just cause,  but for coming to Wymack for help without telling him the truth. The _truth_.

It explained why Kevin hadn’t run to the Trojans, whom he respected. Neil must have known the truth a few months ago, yet he’d kept Kevin’s secret for some reason – kept it because _Moreau_ had wanted it kept. And now Moreau was willing to spill it for Neil’s sake. There was that damn bitter ache in Andrew’s chest upon thinking about it.

Kevin jerked his head up to look at Andrew before he shook it left and right. “No, _no,_ you have to understand! Tetsuji and Kengo could have broken him! They could have made his life miserable if he knew about it! I was trying to protect him!”

“They would have done it for him taking you in, for making you a Fox, which they didn’t,” Andrew pointed out. “What would have been the big deal about him being the sperm donor at that point?”

“He… my mom felt that he shouldn’t know?” Kevin tried to argue. “I found a letter from her to Tetsuji a couple of years ago where she’d written to him when I was a kid, talking about how Coach was my father but she wanted to raise me by herself. The- Tetsuji had kept it in his office, but I took it.”

How convenient, Kayleigh Day letting Tetsuji Moriyama know that her son’s father had no awareness of him, yes? Andrew had to wonder how much longer after that letter had been sent out it was that Kevin was left an orphan, but one thing at a time. “Were you alone when you found the letter?”

“No, Jean was with me,” Kevin confessed. “I can’t believe he’s using it against me.” Even he sounded a bit bitter over that fact.

“Because you left him behind,” Andrew told him with a grim sort of satisfaction, which made Kevin curl in on himself in misery. “You left him at the Nest with Riko and Tetsuji, and then Neil stepped in to protect him so Moreau will do whatever he feels necessary to protect his _partner_.” For a moment he thought back on Stuart Hatford’s words about him being ‘dumb as fuck’ in regards to him stating that he wouldn’t let Neil be used by Moreau anymore.

Why would Moreau go to such lengths to protect Neil from him but not Ichirou Moriyama?

“I didn’t… I did what I could,” Kevin tried to argue.

“You ran when you had the first opportunity, ran because Riko had turned on _you_.” Andrew wasn’t going to get into the whole ‘I did what I had to do’ mess yet again, not when Neil and Moreau could waste their energy on it instead, not when that was what Bee was there for in the end, so he slashed his right hand through the air; yes, if Kevin had stayed then he’d have been even more fucked up, but yes, Kevin could have done more when he had left. Poh-tae-toe, poh-tah-toe, Andrew thought with a hint of sour amusement.

In the end, there was no changing the past, something Andrew well knew by then.

“You’re going to have to tell Wymack at some point,” he said, and wasn’t surprised when Kevin shook his head in a frantic manner. “Moreau is going to keep holding it over us until you do.”

“No!” Kevin jumped onto his feet and began to stalk back and forth with nervous energy. “Coach won’t forgive me, not after I’ve been here for so long!”

And that was Andrew’s problem how? “You’ll tell him if it becomes an issue for _me_ ,” he warned before he left the locker room to go out onto the court, the discussion finished as far as he was concerned. If Moreau and Patel continued to block him from Neil with the threat… then the threat would be removed, plain and simple.

Confession was good for the soul, or so he heard. Time for Kevin to start confessing, perhaps resolve an issue or two and spare his liver a few shots a week.

Though Andrew had to admit, it would take some getting used to, thinking of Wymack as Kevin’s father, of the two being related. He supposed Kayleigh Day had been a lousy judge of character or something, between her friendship with Tetsuji and her taste in men.

At least Andrew knew what Moreau was holding over Kevin’s head, so that was one obstacle down. He still had to get around Neil’s uncle/the small matter of physical violence against him… but it was doable. Tricky, but doable.

He pulled up pictures from Neil’s latest endorsement campaign, the new shots from Adidas which showed Neil running in Central Park (some alone, some with Moreau) in tight jogging gear, face flushed and hair swept back from his face, and hated the rush of attraction and want that filled him as a result. Hated the memory of those eyes filled with betrayal and anger, hated the sound of hurt and confusion in a voice which came alive with humor and inquisitiveness.

Andrew still believed that Moreau and Patel could have done more for Neil… but there were things to consider if he wanted Neil to give him a chance to talk, to find out what Stuart Hatford had meant. The next best opportunity would be the Winter banquet… and it would give him some time to work on one or two things.

*******

Neil rolled onto his side to watch Ichirou sit on the bed and read something on his phone, the sheets pooled around his hips. “ _Don’t tell me you missed a meeting this late at night_ ,” he teased in Japanese; Ichirou had invited him out to dinner at the mansion since he’d be traveling to the banquet at Madison Dukes University in Virginia the next day.

“ _Not quite, but for some of us, work doesn’t stop at a set time_ ,” Ichirou remarked as he finished with what must have been a message before he set the phone down on the bed and reached back to give a gentle cuff to Neil’s head. “Be thankful for that.”

“ _Oh yes, I’ll remember it when I’m out on the court at 5am. Or finishing up at midnight_.” He groaned as he stretched his arms above his head. “ _Do you think the new coach will continue our sixteen hour days during the holidays_?”

Ichirou picked up his phone again and typed out a short message. “ _Something to ask. Masato’s narrowed it down to two main candidates, so I’ll have him add that to the formal interview questions_.”

It would be wonderful if the Ravens no longer had to deal with the arduous schedule during the summer and holiday breaks, Neil thought as he leaned up and forward for a brief kiss. “ _Tomorrow is going to be interesting_.”

“ _Keep that ‘devil’ tongue of yours under wraps for once, Nathaniel_ ,” Ichirou chided as he grasped Neil’s chin. “ _Act surprised, say as little as possible and perhaps you’ll no longer have to deal with those short days anymore, yes_?”

“ _I’ll be very good, you’ll see, my lord_ ,” Neil promised before leaning in for another kiss, one that lingered for more than a few seconds that time; for something like that, he’d bite his tongue and put on a show of sorrow during the whole damn weekend.

Ichirou chuckled when he pulled away. “ _I’m actually looking forward to this_.” He kissed Neil on his forehead before he stood up. “ _I look forward to hearing how it went. Try not to cause too much trouble until then_ ,” he ordered on his way to the bathroom.

“ _I’ll do my best_.” Neil stretched a little more on the large bed before he groaned and got up to leave, body aching from the past hour’s activities; it had been a couple of weeks since Ichirou had been able to come for a visit, so it had been more intense than usual.

But that was fine, since there wasn’t an Exy game for a few weeks and tomorrow Tetsuji would inform the southeast district as well as the ERC that this was his last season as the Ravens’ coach, after breaking news to Edgar Allan’s president and board of directors tonight.

Part of what had kept Ichirou so busy lately was that Riko Moriyama was finally dead of an apparent suicide in early December. The news had shook up the Exy community, but not as much as Riko’s ‘breakdown’ last spring – he’d been out of the spotlight too long and it had been accepted that he had issues, perhaps irrevocable issues. After all, he’d been breaking down for weeks in front of everyone’s eyes and tried to harm if not outright murder one of his own teammates, so it didn’t seem to surprise many that he ended his own life when he felt himself overshadowed and forgotten.

Still, Ichirou had to deal with his brother’s funeral and everything else, even if Riko had been nothing but a burden to him. Now there was one less loose end, one less threat to Ichirou’s empire, one less nightmare of Neil’s (and Jean’s) left alive.

They’d always bear the scars that Riko had inflicted upon them, physical and mental, but they’d outlasted him in the end, had stood there to watch Riko lose everything that had mattered to him. It wouldn’t give them back their peace of mind, wouldn’t take away the awful memories or waking up in the middle of the night to the feel of hands on them, of pain and humiliation… but any sense of satisfaction and victory was _something_.

Marley had brought them one of the memorial posters for Riko which had been hung all over campus, and after having Bren disable the smoke detector in their room, Neil took great delight in slashing the paper to ribbons with his knife before Jean set the remnants on fire in the shower. It had been petty and trivial, and they smiled the entire time.

Just as they did when they watched Nakamura go into Riko’s and Kevin’s room to pack up its contents.

It would take some time, but slowly yet surely, Riko’s existence was being erased from the Nest and Castle Evermore and Exy, until he was nothing but a figure in nightmares and a footnote in history. He would merely be the nephew of Tetsuji Moriyama, one of the creators of the sport, and a former captain of the Ravens. He would be one of the youngest people to be awarded a spot at Court and the person behind the perfect court… and he would be eclipsed by Kevin Day and future captains and more talented players.

Even the grief over his passing would soon be dwarfed by the news of Tetsuji stepping down, as no one had expected the man to retire within the next few years. As a result, the Ravens would have an abbreviated winter training session, with one week on campus and one week off while their ‘master’ supposedly started the interview process so their new coach would be in place by the end of the season.

Neil and Jean would spend the end of the year in New York City.

While there would be several candidates brought in for interviews, Neil knew that Masato was focusing on two – Daiki Kubo and Hiroshi Noguchi. Both were former Ravens and were among Tetsuji’s earlier recruits, Kubo from Japan and Noguchi Japanese-American, and had went on to have successful pro careers. Noguchi had made Court before a knee injury had ended his career eight years ago and he’d transitioned into coaching ever since, and rumor had it that he was about to trade his assistant coach position to coach a pro team. Moving to a university team might be considered a step down for the man… if it were any other than the Ravens or the other Big Three.

Neil considered that as he got in the SUV with Bren, who smelled of smoke and fried food. “Another fun night with the guys while practicing that vigilance thing?” he asked his friend.

“You’re a tough job, Red,” Bren teased back. “I don’t know how I get through each day.”

“Yeah, sitting around watching soccer games while drinking beer and eating snacks all night is sheer hell. Let me call Stuart now and see if he can’t assign you somewhere else.” Neil rolled his eyes as he pulled out his phone to text Jean to let his partner know that he was on his way back, and smiled when Bren made a half-hearted swipe at the device; he was glad that Bren had a good night and got to do something other than stand around bored for most of it.

“My team lost so it was pure suffering, I tell ya.”

“Oh, the horror.” Text sent off, Neil sighed and slumped down in the seat, tired and anxious to return ‘home’, yet grateful for Bren’s attempt to distract him. “There’s a chance the new coach will do away with the sixteen hour days,” he confessed as Bren pulled out onto the highway.

“Eh? That’s good, right? That schedule always messes me up and I’m not doing anything, so can’t imagine how you guy feel.”

“Yeah, it’s good. I have to keep my mouth shut about Tetsuji retiring this weekend and play along, though,” Neil said as he fidgeted with his phone.

Bren considered that for a few seconds. “Oh well, it would have been nice.”

Neil really did need to call Stuart and ask for a new bodyguard.

Jean and Marley were waiting up for him when they returned to the Nest, with a clean set of clothes and a mug of tea so he could wash off (Jean kept him ‘company’ in the bathroom so he didn’t spend half the night in the shower) and then curl up on bed with them. It had gotten ‘better’, him dealing with Ichirou. Well, he was more used to it by then, had accepted that until the man grew bored with him (which didn’t seem to be happening), he needed to deal with it and move on. What was the point in upsetting Jean and Marley so much over something he couldn’t change?

He told them about the potential chance to end the altered training schedule for good, and nearly threw his mug at them when they responded much like Bren had to Ichirou’s conditions, the bastards. They also debated the two contenders for new coach, based on what Ichirou had told him during dinner and what they knew about Masato after dealing with the man for the last few months, and had a feeling that Noguchi would be the final choice. Then they talked about the banquet the next day.

“It’s going to be all about Tetsuji once the announcement’s made, no one’s going to care about the final four ranking,” Marley said as she rubbed Neil’s left shoulder.

“No, so I may need one of you to knock me out or something to ensure that we really don’t have to do any more sixteen hour days.” Neil was willing to suffer a concussion to be done with the damn things.

His friends looked at each other and Jean spoke up first. “Captain’s privilege,” he said over Marley. “That and I’ve suffered him longer. I get to do it.”

“Dammit, there goes my fun,” she complained.

“I hate you both,” Neil declared as he elbowed them in their sides.

“I’m still going to do it, mon diable.” Jean smiled as he rested his head against Neil’s.

Neil tugged the quilt closer to his chin while he made himself more comfortable between his two friends. “I’m going to leave your haughty French ass behind in Virginia this weekend, just you wait and see.”

"Aw, what did the state ever do to you to inflict Crusty on it?" Marley asked, and laughed when Jean reached over to smack her on the back of the head. "So, as if there was any doubt, we're in first place again. Breckenridge should be second, PSU third, and Belmonte fourth. Little different from last year, hmm?"

"The Foxes only made it to third this year because of Kevin and Minyard," Jean said, his dislike for Andrew evident. It was quiet for about a minute while Neil toyed with the strings of his hoodie beneath the quilt, his thoughts on his old- on the goalie, on their Saturday calls and game of truths. On that last call back in September.

"You going to be okay tomorrow?" Marley asked as she shifted around to face him better. "Bren and Quentin will be there, and I'd think the monkey-fucker would know by now to not try anything after your uncle talked to him. Plus there's the whole 'who's your daddy' letter."

He smiled a little over that last bit, even if he still felt that it had been unnecessary. "It's fine," he said, and sighed when both of his friends scowled at that remark. "No, _really_. I can't hide from him forever, he still has two more years left to play and there's the championship season this spring. We're going to keep running into each other so we need to... well, it's going to draw attention sooner or later if Bren slams him into a wall, right?"

"It doesn't mean you have to put up with him," Jean insisted. "Or anyone who treats you that way."

"I know." Andrew wouldn't be able to tear him down again, not like that one time. Neil wouldn't let him, wouldn't allow him to take him by surprise like that, wouldn't put such weight to his words ever again.

Perhaps one day they could look at each other across the court and be something more than rivals, could nod in acknowledgement and feel the thrill of taking each other on as two players doing their best at a sport that… well, _one_ of them loved. Perhaps Andrew could look at Neil as something more than a fool and Ichirou's whore, and Neil at Andrew as someone who could be partially trusted.

It wasn’t what Neil had wanted, but he had always managed to get by with the little he had, if that. Why had he ever thought that he’d have more?

Until then, Neil would focus on his team, on securing them another championship, on getting through another year at Edgar Allan. It wasn't as if his life would be his own once he graduated, but he'd have a little more freedom, would be able to go outside of the Nest and see more of the world, have his own apartment and some semblance of his own life - all of it on Ichirou's leash.

At least he wouldn't have to worry about exams and homework assignments anymore.

They talked a little more about the banquet and the weekend before Marley returned to her bed and they went to sleep for the night, and the next morning was getting up for a workout and a session on the court before they prepared to leave for Madison University. Tetsuji was a distant presence during their practice that day, with most of the effort falling to Jean and Nakamura to direct the team.

The freshmen had finally mastered the drills at that point and were participating in the scrimmages here and there, which meant a little less work for Neil; Ethan was showing promise as a goalie and Jordon as a backliner, enough that Jean planned to work them into the championship season's line-up, and the rest would be ready to take their place on the court next year.

The team showered and ate lunch, then had a little downtime before they got ready for the banquet (black dress pants and black sweaters with a red hem and cuffs for the men, black skirts and similar sweaters for the women - Neil was hoping that their new coach broke with the whole dress code thing). At least they didn't have too long of a drive that afternoon to the event, though Neil wished he could have ridden with Bren and Quentin in the SUV instead of on the bus, where Marley, Susan and the others kept taking pictures and videos to post online.

"I'd think people would be tired of seeing me sitting on a bus by now," he complained as Marley took yet another picture of him and Jean. "And of this guy's ugly face." That earned him a shove from his partner.

"You'd be surprised," Marley said with a grin. "Now give Crusty a big hug so we can get a lot of hits on this, okay?" She laughed when Jean threw his paperback at her and ducked down in her seat, probably to upload the pictures.

" _Why don't we leave **her** in Virgini_ a?" Jean muttered as he slumped down in their shared seat.

" _Not far enough away, she'd just find her way back_ ," Neil argued.

"Hmm." Jean seemed to think about it. " _Wait until we play someone in the southwest district? Utah perhaps_?"

" _It has some possibilities. Awful lot of desert out there_." Not that Neil knew anything about that at all.

"Hmm," Jean repeated as a hint of a wicked smile tugged at his full lips.

Content to leave his friend plotting, Neil tucked into the corner of the seat and closed his eyes so he could rest a little before having to deal with the banquet and the ensuring drama that night.

*******

It _figured_ that the Foxes were wrapping up their season when the news came out that Riko Moriyama had killed himself. All Andrew wanted to do was focus on the last game before winter break, finish his classes for the semester and not deal with Exy for a few weeks, so _of course_ that was when he had to put up with Kevin having a mini-breakdown over his former partner’s death. It didn’t matter that Riko had been an abusive fuck, that he’d nearly ruined Kevin’s career and never treated him with the appropriate amount of respect never mind like a proper brother, and that he’d been locked up in a mental hospital for the last several months.          

The thought occurred to Andrew (and annoyed the hell out of him) that if Neil was still talking to him, he would have had some sort of warning about the whole mess. Instead, he was stuck dealing with Kevin on one hell of a bender, to the point that Abby had to come to the dorms with a couple of bags of saline IVs to help re-hydrate the dumb fuck while Andrew, Aaron and Nicky aired out the bedroom and cleaned up everything. It was bad enough that the great Kevin Day almost missed a game, even – that Wymack almost benched him over it, and swore that if he ever saw Kevin that drunk again he would.

“You killed brain cells over Riko,” Andrew scoffed as they prepared for their final game of the season, a home game against USC-Columbia. Because of Kevin’s ineptitude at dealing with life, they would remain on campus that weekend rather than go to Eden’s, and probably the next one too. It wasn’t as if Andrew cared all that much anymore, since he didn’t see the point in hooking up with Roland when he’d just be fantasizing about someone he couldn’t have and he could drink in the dorm where it was quieter (and cheaper).

“I just….” Kevin slammed his locker shut after he grabbed his jersey and shook his head. “I wanted him to _see_ me, at least, even if he never did play again. To know he didn’t put an end to me, that I came back and I’m going to be better than him.” He brushed the back of his scarred left hand over his tattooed cheek. “I’m always going to be ‘2’ in his mind.”

“Seems to me he took all those pills or whatever because he realized he was nothing,” Andrew said before he pulled on his shoulder pads, a rare half-lie. “So you got your wish after all.” He ignored the guilty look on Kevin’s face and finished getting ready. “Now stop fixating on the piece of shit. He wasn’t worth it while alive and he’s definitely not worth it while dead.” As far as Andrew was concerned, the only good thing that Ichirou Moriyama had ever and would ever do was ensure that someone had blown out his ‘little’ brother’s brains.

They won the game that night, Kevin in a rare mood despite being hungover most of the week, but the good showing the Foxes had done the last couple of games probably hadn’t offset their rough start to the season enough to put them in second place. That meant they’d have to face the Ravens come spring and not Breckenridge, which meant another smackdown on court.

Not that Andrew cared, when it was another chance to face off against Neil, to see him again and attempt to straighten things out. That was, if things didn’t go well at the banquet in the middle of the month (Andrew was assuming that Moreau and Patel and a couple of annoying bodyguards would do their best to run interference again, though Kevin swore he hadn’t left any other incriminating evidence behind at the Nest).

Andrew had a plan to deal with them, though it wouldn’t come without cost (other than Wymack possibly getting an ‘it’s a boy!’ surprise for the holidays). One he’d debated long and hard, that he’d argued back and forth with Bee for weeks, that he’d spent several games standing back and watching his brother before finally realizing that it needed to be done – with set rules, of course.

“So you’ll be spending the break back in Columbia this year?” Bee asked Andrew and Aaron, a mug of hot chocolate in her hands and a slight smile on her face.

“Nicky’s going to Germany so at least I don’t have to see him sucking face with Erik this year,” Aaron said with a grimace, and then shook his head. “What? I’m not being homophobic or anything, it’s just gross to see your cousin literally climbing onto some big guy and trying to inhale his tonsils all of the time!” He twisted in his chair to look at Andrew. “Right? Tell me you want to see that, too.”

Andrew was quiet as he sipped his drink then shrugged. “No.”

Aaron appeared vindicated by his answer. “See!” he told Bee. “It’s traumatizing. I’d feel the same way if Erik was a woman.” He seemed to think about it for a minute and shuddered. “Nicky with _anyone_ is disturbing. Can’t you get on him about personal space or something?”

“I don’t take requests,” Bee told him, her tone wry and eyes bright with amusement. “That said, I can see where it would be a bit… stressful, to have someone flaunt their sexuality in front of you like that. Long distance relationships are difficult on a person, but that doesn’t make such ardent public displays of affection acceptable.”

“No,” Aaron agreed while Andrew continued to drink.

“At least you’ll be spared this year, it seems. Does that mean a quiet holiday, then? Just the two of you and Kevin?”

“No Exy,” Andrew told her.

“Abby invited us back for dinner on Christmas since she’ll be in town,” Aaron said. “I’ll spend the rest of the time studying for the upcoming semester.”

“Yes, the life of a pre-med is never easy.” Bee gave him an encouraging smile. “Get some rest while you can.” While Aaron nodded, she gazed at Andrew. “I know I don’t have to tell _you_ that.”  

“So funny,” he drawled. “Thinking of a second career?”

“Keeping my options open,” she told him with a cheeky grin, which quickly smoothed out into a contemplative look. “Now, there’s still another week of classes left, and the Winter banquet. Have you given any thought to what you’re going to do this time?”

 “Not piss off Neil, maybe?” Aaron mumbled with his chin tucked down.

Oh, it seemed the whole ‘funny’ thing was spreading, how sad. Andrew better drive back to the dorm alone to ensure that he didn’t catch anything.

“I think that’s a given,” Bee said with a disapproving glance Aaron’s way.

“I _have_ an idea, but it requires the assistance of a certain smartass,” Andrew confessed. As soon as he said the words, Bee arched an eyebrow in a show of interest, a clear sign that she hadn’t believed he’d go through with things.

It took Aaron a moment to realize that Andrew was talking about him. “What, me? What do you want from _me_?” he asked with clear reluctance. “I’m not going to do anything that’ll make Coach mad at me or piss off the ERC – I don’t give a damn about this lousy team but I can’t lose my scholarship.”

“Nothing that risqué,” Andrew assured him. “All you have to do is switch places with me and walk around with Kevin, while I approach Neil dressed as you.” That should get him past the wall of bodyguards and protectors.

“Yeah, but then everyone will think that _I’m_ the one making Josten angry,” Aaron pointed out. “So what’s in it for me?”

Part of Andrew wanted to say ‘helping your brother’, but he knew that Aaron had a strong argument, especially considering the Ravens’ ties to the ERC. “You help me with Neil… and I won’t interfere with you and the… you and Katelyn anymore.” When Aaron’s eyes went wide with disbelief at that, Andrew leaned forward in his chair, his almost empty mug held clasped between his hands as he mentioned the very important addendums. “On two conditions – one, that you continue these sessions with me and Bee, and two, that if Bee is in any way concerned about your relationship with the- with Katelyn that it ends.” That was what he’d worked out with Bee, the compromise she felt which would protect Aaron and ‘help’ Andrew ‘move on’ from watching over his brother.

“ _Yes_ , it’s a deal.” Aaron didn’t even hesitate to consider or negotiate. “I’ll do it.” The look he gave Andrew was determined and even a little angry. “You leave her the hell alone from now on and I’ll help you with your messed-up boyfriend. I’ll be here every damn week until we graduate. I’m not giving up on this, and you’ll see that Katelyn’s good for me, that there _never_ was a reason to treat her like shit.”

“Convince Bee,” was all Andrew said after a moment of holding his brother’s gaze to assess the trustworthiness of that statement.

Aaron scoffed at that. “Yeah? And what does _Bee_ think of you and your mouthy Raven, huh?”

“That’s not something we’re going to get into today,” Bee said in that firm voice of hers to cut off anymore arguments about the topic. “This was an important step so let’s not ruin it, all right? Now, let’s talk about finals week, shall we?”

Not one of her better attempts at redirecting the discussion, but Andrew let it happen without any comment for once since he had Aaron’s agreement to help him with Neil.

Of course his twin wasted no time to go running off with the tramp once done with classes for the day, Exy practice put on hold for the season due to finals. Nicky was astounded at the turn of events and even Kevin confused, and Andrew didn’t bother to explain anything to them. All they needed to know was that he wasn’t about to slit the girl’s throat for being near Aaron and that was that.

Well, he wouldn’t have made it _that_ obvious, that he was behind the little ‘accident’.

At least with finals, Aaron didn’t have too much free time to spend with his Vixen, though Andrew breezed through his classes much like usual. There was much moaning and complaining from Nicky, a bit of swearing and panicking from Kevin as he pulled an all-nighter to get a history paper done, and a week mostly free from the rest of the Foxes.          

Even Renee didn’t have time to spar the Sunday before the banquet, though she did visit Andrew to drop off some chocolate muffins she’d made and go over a few things; she would keep an eye on poetic Patel and Moreau as well as the muscle to ensure they didn’t try to alert Wymack to the fact that Kevin was anything more than his starting striker and a pain in the ass (not that Renee was aware of what exactly she was trying to prevent happen, other than Neil’s ‘protection squad’ revealing something Kevin didn’t want told to their coach just yet).

The Foxes had a longer drive to Virginia than the Ravens, and so Andrew had to put up with an annoying trip where his teammates went on about their holiday plans while he tried to figure out a way to make Erik Klose keep Nicky in Germany permanently and talk Wymack into banning all romantic relationships among teammates (having three couples on the bus was enough to make his stomach turn - and that wasn’t even taking into count Aaron and the tramp, who at least made sure to sit as far away from him as possible).     

At least he could distract himself with pictures of Neil after a while, who appeared just as put out by the whole banquet thing as he did, slumped down in the seat of a bus while Moreau glared at the person taking pictures (Patel, of course) or sleeping.

The Foxes were among one of the last teams to reach Madison, the purple and gold stadium lit up for the event and emblazoned with its bulldog emblem.  The unfortunate color scheme meant that the winter ‘theme’ didn’t translate well once inside, all that red and green against the purple and gold background; Andrew glanced around and wondered about the odds of _him_ being roofied that evening and having an excuse to leave the asinine event earlier.        

Hmm, something to consider for the next one, no?

Frank Bower, captain of the Dukes, came over to greet them once they left the Home locker room after changing into their ‘dress’ outfits. “It’s about time you guys showed up!” He was an upperclassman set to graduate that year and his team’s starting goalie, his build tall and stocky yet his demeanor always coming across as happy for some reason.

“I didn’t know we were running late?” Wilds said, her expression a little curious as she shook the young man’s hand.

“Eh, it’s just that there’s a rumor going on that there’s to be some sort of announcement tonight,” Bower explained. “The officials are all huddled together, so once Belmonte gets here, maybe we’ll find out what’s going on.”

“Huh.” Wilds glanced over at Wymack, who was already talking to a small group of coaches, but he didn’t seem to know anything since he looked normal to Andrew – a bit bored and waiting for the alcohol to be brought out. “Well, not much longer now.”

“Yep! Now let’s get you to your table.” Bower made some small talk with her as he led the team to their table – far away from the Ravens, of course – and left them with the Ospreys right around when Belmonte arrived.

“So what do you think that’s about?” Boyd asked as he helped Wilds with her chair.

“I don’t know, but if it’s some sort of memorial for Riko Moriyama, I’m going to be sick,” Reynolds declared.

Renee frowned at the dealer. “That’s not nice.”

“Ask me if I care – everyone here knows how much of an asshole he was,” Reynolds said, indifferent about the Ospreys seated across the table who were gaping at her – well, at the way she ‘slandered’ a legend.

One of them gave Kevin a pointed look. “Aren’t you going to say anything? Stick up for him?”

Kevin gazed at his glass of water in utmost disappointment at being non-alcoholic. “Riko… was very complicated.”

“And by that, he means that he was an asshole,” Nicky clarified from Kevin’s left side. “Also? Navy blue is _so_ not your color,” he told the Osprey dealer.

Andrew had a feeling that the Foxes weren’t going to be sitting with the Ospreys at another banquet anytime soon, either.

Before things could devolve into a fun melee (‘tis the season and all that), Belmonte was seated at their table and Tetsuji Moriyama climbed up on the stage set at the one end of the court, a dour black-clad figure surrounded by trees lit up with flickering gold lights. He didn’t even appear to look out over the crowd, just nodded his head once and stared at the microphone set in front of him on a stand. "The following four teams have qualified to represent the southeastern district in the spring championship games. I will list them in order of their ranking - Edgar Allan, Breckenridge, Palmetto State, and Belmonte."

While the assembled teams cheered for the top-ranked ones, Tetsuji remained on the stage without moving, so the noise quickly died down. As soon as it reached what he must have considered an appropriate point of quietness, he once again nodded. “This will be my last season of coaching. I am officially announcing my retirement, effective at the end of the Ravens’ championship season this year.”

It was a stunned silence as Tetsuji left the stage without saying another word, his expression the same as when he’d stepped onto it, and then the court was filled with incredulous voices over his announcement – over the fact that the man who had in part created the sport had chosen to retire. One of the other coaches attempted to step in to offer him congratulations then restore some sort of order, but it was too late for that.

Andrew craned his neck to look over at the far side of court and noticed that the one table that barely seemed to be reacting – the one _half_ – was the Ravens’. The long line of black-clad figures were sitting calmly through the ruckus, as if unbothered by the approaching loss of their esteemed coach.

Then again, that ‘esteemed’ coach was an abusive bastard, wasn’t he?

“Oh god,” Kevin wheezed on Andrew’s left. “ _He… did that just happen? How can he retire? He’s the Master!”_ he exclaimed in French _._

Andrew very slowly balled his left hand into a fist and thumped it down onto the table next to Kevin’s plate setting. “ _He’s a sick old man past his prime who needs to go away_ ,” he stated. “ _Now, do I need to ask Nicky to go find Abby_?”

Kevin took one deep, shuddering breath and then another. “ _No. No, I’m all right, it’s just… it’s just a shock_.”

“ _Think of it as an early Christmas present_.” Andrew stared straight ahead at a curious Osprey who blanched and found _her_ place setting of great interest while he saw Kevin glance at him out of the corner of his eye.

It was a rather interesting ‘coincidence’, wasn’t it? Riko’s ‘suicide’ a couple of weeks ago and now this? Especially when Neil had told Andrew that Tetsuji was supposed to behave himself? Had the old prick been involved in what had happened back in September somehow? Or had something else happened?

They got through the dinner rather quickly after that, the Ospreys no longer quite so social for some reason. As soon as the food was cleared, Kevin was up from his seat and headed back to the Home locker room, with Andrew right behind him and Aaron following. Considering the surprise announcement, no one gave them a second glance.

Once the three of them were in the locker room, Kevin pulled the small flask out from the inner pocket of his sports coat while Andrew and Aaron switched their dress shirts and Andrew fetched a tube of styling gel to muss up his hair while Aaron slicked his back; it wasn't a perfect 'disguise', but they'd learned over the last few years that people didn't bother to look past the surface with them. As long as Andrew pushed back his armbands and managed some sort of expression, and Aaron kept his face blank then they would fool almost everyone.

"Stay close to Kevin," he ordered his brother.

"Don't give Katelyn any grief," Aaron reminded him. "I'm serious, she's doing you a favor so _don't_. If I see you upsetting her this is over."

Andrew didn't say anything, he just finished adjusting his armbands, but that must have been enough for the pain in the ass because Aaron schooled his expression and jerked his chin at Kevin. "Come on, let's get this over with."

"Don't mess this up," Kevin pleaded with Andrew before he left the room. "I'm not ready yet... okay?"

Andrew waved him off and then took a few seconds after they left to center himself, to prepare for what came next. Then he managed the somewhat annoyed expression he usually saw on his brother's face and stepped outside.

Katelyn was waiting there, appearing oh too pleased at the moment. "Hi honey!"

Andrew fought to keep the emotion on his face. "This will go much better if you remain quiet."

"Sorry, but not if you're going to be Aaron, it will." She picked up on the tension in his body and shook her head. "Honest, it's not revenge, though I can't say I'm not enjoying this a bit. It's honestly how we act together, so go along with it or...."

Andrew thought about Neil, about pale blue eyes and mocking laughs and that tremulous way he'd admitted to liking the color grey, and hated himself so much right then. He hated Katelyn as well, but he hated himself and a certain little bird even more. "Hurt Aaron and they will never find your body," he swore as he stood next to her.

"That's fair, but it'll never happen, me hurting him. Not intentionally." She held out her hand in a slow motion, an obvious gesture that it was up to him, and he gritted his teeth as he reached out and placed it on the crook of his elbow, the same place he'd seen her hold on to Aaron earlier that evening, and fought down the wave of revulsion he felt even though it was clear that she kept the touch as light as possible. Oh yes, he _hated_ Neil so very much right now, and his own traitorous emotions as well.

"I love him, you see," Katelyn continued as they walked through the crowd, a bright smile on her face as she nodded to a few people here and there but made no attempt to talk to them or be social. "I mean, I'd have to in order to put up with everything these last couple of years, no?" Her smile never wavered yet there was a good bit of irony in her voice and some tension in her body which revealed that she wasn’t unaffected, being near Andrew. "All the sneaking around to be with Aaron, arguing with my friends and even my family that it was worth the heartache to stick it out with him and not move on."

At Andrew's silence, she sighed and gave a little laugh. "I don't care about him being a doctor... well, that's not quite true because I plan on being one too, a pediatric specialist, and his drive to succeed in the field is part of what drew me to him. I want someone who'll be a partner with me, someone who loves me and who'll share a life with me, and that's your brother."

They both were quiet for a while as they wandered around the court, Andrew's attention divided between Kevin and his brother and the small group of Ravens clustered off to the side while everyone else danced and socialized. "I'll be watching you," he said after they got some punch to drink (more soda than fruit juice that time), Katelyn deliberately waiting for him to pour her a cup. "Me and Bee, and Aaron agreed to end things if Bee thinks you're using him." Andrew trusted _Bee_ that much.

"I know." Katelyn smiled around the rim of her cup. "Aaron told me and I'm fine with that." When Andrew frowned at the response, she laughed. "Did you know that I've been seeing Betsy for about a year now?" She laughed some more as they shuffled away from the drink table, Andrew surprised into silence by the fact; he knew that Bee couldn't talk about her other patients, but still, some sort of warning would have been appreciated. “What, how do you think I’ve put up with everything, especially you?" Katelyn continued in a rather satisfied manner. "Betsy’s the only reason why I haven’t taken a sledgehammer to your precious car by now, among other things.”

Perhaps Andrew was beginning to see why Aaron was so besotted with the tramp.

They did another circuit around the court so Andrew could verify that Neil had come that weekend with Bren and the one bodyguard who'd locked the door back at the Nest.

He also noticed that both men were paying attention to Kevin and Aaron while Kevin made his rounds, doing his usual 'let's talk about Exy until I put my foot in my mouth and say something offensive' routine while Renee kept Matheson and Hurst at bay and also track of the bodyguards, as promised.

"It time?" Katelyn asked while she toyed with the fox charm hanging around her neck. "Not that I'm complaining about the scintillating conversation...."

"You are."

"Yeah, well, there's a reason I went after Aaron and not you. A long list of them, actually," she said as she flicked back a strand of her dark brown curls.

Andrew didn't bother to respond, he just headed toward the group of Ravens where Neil was standing off to the side, nursing a bottle of water while Patel talked to him. Moreau dealt with the various people who came up to the small group, while some of the upperclassmen chatted with him and the other players for a few minutes then left to wander around for a bit, and of course a couple of the freshmen lingered around Neil. He just seemed to encourage one of them to go dance with a striker from the Cavaliers when Katelyn squared her shoulders and stepped a little in front of Andrew with a bright smile on her face.

Bren tensed at first, but he looked at Katelyn as she pulled 'Aaron' along and slumped back against the wall, just as Patel did when she first saw them approach. "Hello!" Katelyn called out.

"Ah, hi." Patel gave her a dubious look and shifted in front of Neil, who was frowning at his bottle of water for some reason. “Get lost or something? I believe your friends are over there,” she waved in the direction of Kevin and not-Andrew, “unless you’re here to deliver some sort of message, in which case, do kindly fuck off.” She even said it with a smile.

“ _Jean would be so proud_ ,” Neil murmured in French behind her.

“ _I keep telling him I’m ready for interviews, I’d certainly be less stressful to his poor crusty heart than **you**_ ,” Patel shot back, which made Neil scoff.

“Aw, you speak French? I always wanted to learn French!” Katelyn exclaimed, all big eyes and bright smile, much like when she was out on the court with the rest of the Vixens. “But Spanish is much more practical for my major, so….”

“What do you want?” Patel asked, no longer smiling or sounding so polite. “It’s a message, isn’t it?” She gave Andrew a cold look. “The stunted monkey-fucker’s got the two of you doing his dirty work now?”

“Ooh, I think I like you,” Katelyn said with a warm chuckle. “That’s a good one – ‘monkey-fucker’.” For once, Andrew didn’t have much of a problem imitating one of Aaron’s ‘scowls’. “But we’re-“

“I’ve got this, Marley.” Neil came over and nudged poetic Patel aside while giving first Katelyn a curious look and then Andrew such a blank one that Andrew knew his friend had seen through the ruse right away. “I want to know what ‘Aaron’ has to say.”

Patel didn’t appear happy with that decision, and Moreau kept glancing away from where he was busy talking to several players from the Cavaliers and Dukes teams. “It’ll be fine, Bren will be with me, and I’m sure…,” he paused to nod at Katelyn.

“I’m Katelyn, nice to meet you.” She held out her hand, which Neil gave a hesitant shake.

“I’m sure Katelyn will be more than happy to keep ‘Andrew’ far away, right?” Neil’s smile right then had a slight edge to it, which Katelyn returned.

“Oh, more than happy. It was nice to meet the two of you.” She gave them a quick wave before walking away, over to where Kevin and Aaron were huddled with several strikers from a couple of different teams.

“Neil, are you sure about this?” Patel asked before he could leave.

“Stay with Jean,” was all he said before coming alongside of Andrew then walking past without acknowledging him. As Andrew turned around to follow, Bren trailed after them, his attention focused on Neil.

They ended up in the Home locker room, with Andrew feeling a sense of déjà vu even though it wasn’t the Foxes’. As soon as the door closed on them, Bren stood guard in front of it and called out to Neil. “Really, Red? We here to beat ‘em up or what?”

“No scenes, which is why I agreed to this.” Neil leaned against the one wall, his expression blank but that hint of betrayal back in his eyes, his arms folded across his chest in a clear gesture of him being closed off from Andrew. “What do you want? Make it quick because my patience is even shorter than you.”

Amusing. Andrew sat down on one of the couches in the lounge and stretched out his arms across the back of it. “I want to talk. You’re making it rather difficult to do that, all in all.”

“I thought you didn’t want to talk to _property_ ,” Neil said with a sneer. “That I was a fool who needed kept on a leash.”

“Wait, it’s not the brother?” Bren asked as he stepped forward, his expression murderous. “It’s _Andrew?_!”

Neil waved the bodyguard back. “Don’t, just leave him be.” He sounded tired all of a sudden instead of bitter. “Let’s just hash this out so he’ll go away for good.”

“But-“

“No, no trouble this time!” Now he sounded a little panicked, and that made Bren back off after giving Andrew a virulent look. “Dammit, the only reason I’m doing this is because I won’t let there be any trouble for-“ Neil caught himself and shook his head.

“For Ichirou?” Andrew asked as he sat up with his hands clasped between his knees, suspicious by what _wasn’t_ being said. “You don’t want to cause trouble for _Ichirou_? Who mentioned a leash this time?”

Neil gave him a poisonous look and shoved away from the wall in a sinuous motion that shouldn’t distract Andrew but did, dammit. “You know what? I just changed my mind. Go ahead and cause a damn scene. Let there be two, in fact, when Jean finds out what you did.”

All right, so much for following Bee’s guide to hold back on a few things. “Wait,” Andrew said as he jumped to his feet, the same time that Bren moved to block him from Neil’s path. “I didn’t – that’s not why I’m here. Just listen, okay?”

To his surprise, Neil stopped instead of charging out of the room while Bren hovered between them. “You should go,” the bodyguard said while he cracked his knuckles. “I’ll handle this, it’ll be on me.”

Neil’s shoulders rounded as he shook his head. “No, no I’ll stay.” He reached out to pat Bren’s right arm. “You don’t get in trouble because of him.” He smiled, the expression slight but enough to make the man stop glaring at Andrew. “Not this time.”

“We’ll see.” Still, the guard returned to the door while Neil hesitated for a moment before he perched on the arm of the couch, out of reach but not quite so far away. Andrew took that for a good sign and sat down at the opposite end.

“Start talking,” Neil ordered as he picked at the hem of his black sweater; he looked so _damn_ good with his hair combed back and in the dark color, for once not so exhausted and drawn. “You don’t have that much time.”

Andrew grimaced when he ran his right hand through his hair and encountered the styling gel, then wiped it on his dress pants. “All right.” He took a deep breath before he switched to German. “ _I didn’t mean… well, I didn’t lie back in September, but I didn’t mean what I said to you_.”

Neil’s handsome face tightened with anger. “ _So you **do** think that I’m property and a whore? How nice_.”

“ _Let me finish_ ,” Andrew argued while he struggled to control his own emotions and speak the right words. “ _I think… I think you shouldn’t have done what you did. I think Moreau and Patel should have stopped you_ _and didn’t because it benefits them. I think you gave too much of yourself away. **That’s** what I think_.” He paused to take a deep breath while Neil sat there just out of reach, teeth teasing at his full bottom lip. “ _I never thought any less of you, I still don’t. I think less of **them**_. _It was just a shock, to find out like that how much you gave up for people who don’t deserve you_.” Dammit, he hated how he had to put this into words, something he was never good at when it counted.

“No.” Neil shook his head at that while anger sparked in his beautiful eyes. “ _No, that’s **not** true, they are worth it and they couldn’t have stopped me. You weren’t there, dammit! You didn’t see how Riko was destroying Jean, how he had the others-_ “ His breath caught and he once more hunched in on himself, his arms wrapped tight around his chest. “ _I couldn’t let him do that anymore, and I swore to protect the girls. Jean was too injured to stop me while Marley didn’t know enough. It was all on **me** and it was worth it, it still is_.” He gave a weak laugh as he slipped down to sit on the couch, his eyes closed as if considering something. “ _Besides, to be honest? It may have just ended up that way in the end. At least I negotiated for something of worth this way_.”

Andrew didn’t want to think of it being unavoidable, Neil ending up in Ichirou Moriyama’s bed. He didn’t want to think about things being so bad in the Nest that Neil’s _only_ option had been to end up in the man’s bed.

“Neil? You okay?” Bren called out, which made Neil open his eyes and nod.

“Yeah, we’re just… we’re just working some things out,” Neil told the man with a weak attempt at a smile.

“You sure?” Andrew may not care for the bastard, but he had to admit that the bodyguard seemed to honestly be concerned for Neil. “I can beat the runt up for you or something.” Yes, he definitely did not care for the bastard.

“I’m sure, and I can always stab him myself.”

“Oh, good, you’re all right.” Now Bren sounded happy, but Neil’s smile was a little stronger so Andrew accepted it.

Still, things weren’t quite even between him and Neil, weren’t quite back to normal. “ _You never really asked about certain things_ ,” he told his little bird. “ _I was the one pushing against and hitting walls, while you always stayed well away from any boundaries_.”

Neil’s smile faltered and he resumed tugging at the hem of his sweater. “ _We agreed that there were some things we didn’t need to talk about. And I… I didn’t need to know about… well, I didn’t need to know_.”

So he had guessed about a few things, as Andrew had suspected. “ _You never asked about my foster family and brother, about why Riko set Drake Spear after me_. _You never asked why I hated the word ‘please’_.” Even though Neil had caught it back at the first Fall banquet.

“ _I didn’t need to know_ ,” Neil repeated, his voice now hoarse and eyes filled with pain.

“ _It’s why I reacted the way I did after I found out about Ichirou_ ,” Andrew explained as he buried deep the faint tremor of emotions inside of him raised by the old memories, by the thought of how Neil had suffered something similar (by far the worst of the two). “ _I was in the foster care system until I was thirteen, when I went to a juvenile detention center, and most of those families were abusive in one way or another_ ,” he admitted to Neil so his friend would understand, so he’d stop running away. “ _I thought I finally found a home with the Spears, but Drake… Drake was one of the worst. I thought I could outlast him, thought I could deal with him until either he went into the Marines or I graduated but then he found out about Aaron_.” There was a horrible light of understanding in Neil’s eyes just then. “ _Which is why I don’t care if Ichirou is ‘nice’ or ‘treats you well’, it’s still **bullshit** , Neil_.”

It was quiet for a little while after that, and then Neil scrubbed his face with the cuffs of his sleeves while he let out a shaky breath. “ _Maybe_ ,” he admitted in a faint voice. “ _But you’re right about me being property_.” He shook his head to cut off Andrew’s rebuttal. “ _No, **I am**. I was before I made the deal, and nothing’s ever going to change that. My **father**_ ,” there was such hatred in that word, “ _gave me to Moriyamas, and everything that’s happened in the past couple of years has made it all the more important that Ichirou keeps me – me **and** Jean. So is it wrong that I do something to ensure that we’re treated well?”_

Perhaps if Kevin hadn’t run, there would be a chance for Neil. If Riko hadn’t finally broken down, if Tetsuji hadn’t lost control. If fucking Seth Gordon hadn’t made that forum post and Neil Josten had remained beneath the Moriyamas’ radar, and Kevin had convinced him to join the Foxes instead of the fool rabbiting away and being caught.

If, if _, if_ ….

“ _You’re **not** property_ ,” Andrew argued while his hands clenched into fists. “ _You’re a stubborn fool and maybe you’ll end up playing this stupid game for him, but you’re **not** his belonging_.” Andrew wasn’t going to let Ichirou Moriyama win in the end.

Neil gave him a tired smile and shook his head. “I don’t see how that-“

“Shut up,” Andrew told him. “ _The only thing I want to hear from you on this is ‘you’re right’_.”

That earned him an incredulous look and a weak chuckle. “ _You know what? Okay. If it actually happens? I’ll gladly say those words to you. **If**_.” Neil gave another chuckle. “ _Be worth it to watch a lazy goth like you do something for once_.”

“ _I will kick your ass_ ,” Andrew warned, that warm, tingly feeling creeping back into his chest.

“ _Too much effort_ ,” Neil murmured as he rested his head back against the couch with his eyes closed. He seemed content to remain like that while Andrew watched him for about a minute, Bren still by the door and fiddling with his phone. “ _Hey? I missed this_ ,” he admitted in a quiet voice while he motioned between them with his left hand, then let it fall onto the couch. “ _Missed talking to you, when you weren’t insulting me and my friends_.”

“ _I may have missed seeing what pathetic questions you could come up with when it was your turn_ ,” Andrew said, his attention focused on every twitch of Neil’s lips and flutter of his thick eyelashes.

“Asshole,” Neil muttered before going quiet again. “I thought… it’s stupid, but I know what my life is going to be like, what I have to do.” He opened his eyes to stare up at the ceiling. “Play for the Ravens, graduate, go pro, do my best to make Court, don’t stop until I can’t play anymore, and… well, probably work as a translator for the family, then. It’s better than it would have been on the run or if I lived with my father, and I do love Exy, it’s just….”

“It’s all set out for you,” Andrew guessed. It was the life that the Moriyamas – that Ichirou – demanded out of Neil, and Andrew knew his little bird well enough that Neil wasn’t one for cages.

“Yeah,” Neil sighed. “At least I’ll be playing Exy.” The fingers of his left hand, palm facing up, twitched a little while he spoke. “And I always thought… it’s silly but I thought it would be fun to stare across the court and see you there,” he admitted in a timorous voice, as if uncertain of how Andrew would react to such a confession. “It wouldn’t be so bad then.”

Andrew was quiet while he thought about that, as he once again imagined standing in a goal with Neil out on court in front of him, of the prospect of that happening more than once or twice a season. He still didn’t love Exy, didn’t ever expect to love Exy… but the thought of such a thing made something flare so hot and electrifying inside of him that his right hand crept out to settle on top of Neil’s.

His friend started at the touch, but before Andrew could pull away, Neil turned to look at him with a smile as timorous as his voice while his fingers curled loosely around Andrew’s. “I hate you,” Andrew declared in a voice devoid of emotion, while Bren started and took a step away from the door.

Neil’s smile widened and he waved the bodyguard back with his right hand. “Really? What percent am I up to now?”

“90%.”

Someone shouldn’t appear so pleased right then. “Oh, you’re catching up to Jean.” Neil twisted on the couch to better face Andrew yet kept their hands held together. “What happens when I reach 100%?”

“I find a place to bury your body,” Andrew lied.

“I’m sure Bren can help you with that.” Andrew would say that ‘smug’ didn’t look good on a certain little bird, but that would be another lie.

“Are you sure I can’t beat him up?” Bren asked, his voice rather plaintive for such a large man.

“Hmm, not tonight,” Neil told him. “When’s your birthday again? Maybe then.”

“Why am I talking to you?” Andrew asked as he gave his hand a gentle tug, but not enough to pull it free.

“Too late, you had your chance.” Neil hummed a little as he slumped against the back of the couch. “I don’t really want to go out there, too many people and everyone’s talking about Tetsuji and Riko.” He sounded tired, but the type that came from being emotionally drained more than a lack of sleep.

Andrew gave another slight tug. “About that….”

Neil groaned. “Not tonight, okay? Tomorrow, I’ll tell you tomorrow but not tonight.”

“I expect to hear quite the song, little bird.”

That earned Andrew another groan. “So didn’t miss that at all.” Neil rubbed at his face again, and both of them blinked when Bren approached the couch with a flask in his hand, which he gave to Neil.

“Share that, all right?” he told Neil, his expression stern. “You’re not supposed to get drunk, but don’t see why you can’t have a little fun.”

Neil arched an eyebrow at the offering, both of them going up when he had a sniff of the flask’s contents. He must trust the man, though, since he tossed it back for a shot – and ended up spluttering after he swallowed.

“Oh _bloody_ hell,” he managed to choke out as he handed it to Andrew. “It’s yours, all yours.” He grimaced as he wiped at his mouth. “What the _hell_ , Bren?”

“Nice, eh?” He grinned at Neil while Andrew tried the stuff, which had an unusual taste and a strong kick of alcohol. “Some Chinese stuff that… uhm, yeah, it’s different,” he said after glancing at Andrew.

It was potent, which was good, so Andrew would ignore its source for the time being. Alcohol in hand and Neil tucked near him, Andrew settled on the couch to spend the next hour or two (or however long before Kevin caused a scene and needed rescuing) in the bit of sanctuary that he and Neil had managed to find.

It wouldn’t last long – they would have to return to their respective teams soon enough and universities tomorrow, and Neil still ‘belonged’ to Ichirou Moriyama. Andrew had two more years left at PSU and Neil three at Edgar Allan, and each of them had promises made to other people, had debts that came first and foremost.

They had scars and nightmares and pasts full of demons enough for a team of Exy players, let alone two young men.

Yet they sat there with fingers entwined while Andrew sipped from Bren’s flask (he’d have to find out what was in it – have _Neil_ find out), while Neil gave him a sleepy smile and talked about art projects and endorsement deals and freshmen who wouldn’t stop following him around (nice to see that some people were still as clueless as ever).

While Andrew wondered how much of a smug, overbearing bastard Kevin would be once he told the Exy addict that he was now interested in a pro career. While he pondered the best way to go about smashing gilded cages without harming the precious contents inside.

That was for another day, though.

*******

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *******  
> I told you it was LONG.  
> But... there we go? And I can't see it being more than another chapter or two for Neil's second year (there's one more very important plot point that needs to be addressed, and then we can move into the third year, which should go relatively quickly, after addressing an important plot point. It's the fourth year that... hmm... yeah).  
> So, back to Not in the Stars, though I do have a small owed fic I have to do as well which I'm hoping won't throw me off track (DIE WORK).  
> I did get two Armies prompts up a my tumblr ([nekojitachan](http://nekojitachan.tumblr.com//) and [writing stuff](http://nekojitachan.tumblr.com/tagged/nekojitachanfics)) this past week.  
> As always, thank you SO MUCH for the kudos and comments!


	18. Gravity of You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, last chapter summary? A wee bit of angst at the start, let's say? Neil dealing with Andrew's call and finding out that Tetsuji will soon be replaced by a new coach by the end of the season. He also is 'settling' more into his relationship with Ichirou, if one wants to call it that (the realization that he'll never be anything but property), while Ichirou appears to be taking steps to watch over Neil better.  
> On Andrew's end? He doesn't regret what he did, the harsh words spoken, but he realizes that it could have gone better. Of course by that point he's cut out of Neil's life and everyone close to Neil appears determined to block Andrew from Neil. While Andrew attempts to talk to Neil, he begins to take steps to fix a few things in his life - such as his relationship with his brother. In the end, he needs Aaron's help to be able to approach Neil at the winter banquet (to have Aaron pretend to be Andrew and vice versa) and he agrees to allow Aaron to date Katelyn as long as Aaron continues their weekly sessions with Bee and Bee doesn't see any danger in the relationship. The plan works (and Andrew realizes that Katelyn is not the empty-headed little 'tramp' he'd always thought), and Andrew is able to repair things with Neil after revealing some truths about his past.  
> Oh, and Andrew finally finds out that Wymack is Kevin's father.  
> There's a lot happening, I tell ya.
> 
> So! Finally some progress happening between our boys! Again, trying to move things along here, this chapter and the next should (SHOULD) wrap up year two for Neil. But something important sorta happens here, you'll see.
> 
> Hmm, triggers? The usual, some homophobic language, but nothing too dark or bad.
> 
> As always, thanks to Fall-for-the-Game for the beta!  
> *******

*******

“So what, the stunted monkey-fucker pulls some stupid Disney trick and all is forgiven?”

Neil was wishing that he’d kept that flask of Bren’s at the moment as he sat on one of the beds in the hotel room and faced the ‘inquisition’ of his two best friends and partners. “No, it wasn’t like that.”

“Really?” A disappointed-looking Jean held up his phone to show a picture that Bren, the traitor, must have snuck at some point which showed Neil curled up on the couch facing Andrew, also curled up and facing toward him. At least their hands were too far down to be seen…. “You look awfully _friendly_ to me. What happened to not talking to him? To using the truth about-“

“That was _your_ idea,” Neil reminded his partner as he jerked his right hand through his hair, tired and upset that what had been a good evening was now turning into _this._ He was surprised that Bren had somehow kept the two from storming into the locker room for the hour and a half he’d had with Andrew as it was, or from causing some sort of scene during that time. “Look, I went with Andrew because I didn’t want to cause any trouble – there’s enough going on because of Tetsuji, right?” That earned him a couple of reluctant nods. “I figured I’d tell Andrew to fuck off in person and that would be that… but he explained a few things on his end.” His shoulders slumped forward while he wrapped his arms around his middle. “It’s not all perfect and he better not give you guys any grief again, but… he overreacted and he admitted to that. There’s reasons _why_ he overreacted,” reasons Neil wasn’t going to tell them, especially not Marley, “and so I’m giving him another chance. _One_ more chance,” he stressed.

In the end… he’d missed Andrew so much. It was surprising how much he’d missed the other young man, how much those weekly calls had mattered to him. Perhaps it was the ease with which they could talk to each other about most things, or that Andrew had cared enough to try to break Neil free from Evermore and the Moriyamas. Whatever the reason, he’d felt so relaxed and… and _happy_ for the first time in weeks in that locker room, just sitting there with Andrew.

It was odd, but he’d take it.

Jean and Marley exchanged a brief glance before Marley made a frustrated noise then dropped down on the edge of the bed where Neil was sitting, her black skirt flaring around her long legs. “Look, we’re just worried about you, okay? We want to make sure that he’s not… I don’t know, blackmailing you or something?”

He rolled his eyes before he pulled off his sweater, ready to change into something more comfortable for the night. “He’s not, okay? Bren would have beaten him up if he tried, no matter if I wanted to avoid any drama or not.” He balled the sweater up between his hands and sighed. “I know Andrew can be an asshole, but he wouldn’t do that to me. He’s never once tried to use anything I told him against me.” Taking in the sudden glares on his friends’ faces, he sighed again. “Other than overreacting to Ichirou, I mean.”

“Just a little,” Marley drawled, her tone highly sarcastic, then she huffed as she reached down to unbuckle her sandals. “But you’re right, he’s kept quiet about it and Meg said he seems to be working hard to be a little less of a bastard the last couple of months.” Neil stared at her upon hearing that, since Meg hadn’t mentioned Andrew to him at all the few times they’d talked, mostly through texts. “He’s been seeing that one psychiatrist that Meg goes to, several times a week apparently.”

Neil knew that Meg saw Betsy Dobson a couple of times a month because of what Lincoln had done to her, all part of the recovery process that also included her learning to fight from Renee Walker. He was surprised to learn that Andrew had increased his sessions with Dobson like that, considering that while he spoke about the woman and therapy with her in a mostly positive light, he’d indicated that he hadn’t been pleased to be forced into therapy on the whole. “Oh.”

Marley arched an eyebrow as she kicked off her shoes. “He didn’t tell you that?”

“No.” Neil chewed on his bottom lip while he thought about that; he'd asked Andrew about therapy because of Meg and even a little because of Jean, but it wasn't an option with _him_ due to his family and background and ties to the Moriyamas. There were just too many secrets, too many buried bodies, literally and figuratively. But it seemed that Andrew at least benefited from it somehow, which was good? Andrew and in some ways, Neil.

"Look, I know it's been rough the last couple of months," he glared when Jean snorted in derision and Marley outright scoffed, "but I like talking to Andrew. It's... it's something different, okay?" he tried to explain. "Something that's not always about the Ravens and Edgar Allan and Exy. It's a bit of a break."

"We know, we're there when you talk to him, most of the time," Jean said with a hint of mockery.

"Yeah, if you want more insults, just let us know." Marley smiled at him, then rolled her eyes when all Neil did was give her a flat look in return. "Okay, we get it."

"No we don't," Jean muttered.

"Monkey-fucker is his Surfer-boy," Marley declared with a bit of distaste. "I think he could do a lot better, but it is what it is."

"And what _is_ it?" Neil asked in confusion.

Marley gazed back at him for a few seconds before throwing her hands up in the air. "No, I'm not dealing with this right now. I can't be the only one who has a clue here, _I can't_. I'm crashing with Naomi and Theresa tonight." Without saying anything else, she got up and walked out of their room.

All right then.

Jean declared the topic tabled for the night after that, which was fine with Neil. The next morning Marley seemed returned to normal, and it was back to Madison’s campus so they could 'mingle' with the rest of their district. Neil saw Andrew in passing a few times but they could do little more than exchange a few words here and there; after being 'missing' for a while the night before, he had to make an effort to be visible for the few hours that all of the teams were gathered together before they returned to their respective schools.

Day approached Jean with evident apprehension and the two of them managed a mostly civil conversation while Marley and Andrew exchanged cool looks back and forth, but as soon as Day brought up Tetsuji, Andrew nudged his teammate on to another group of players. "Huh, maybe he's of some use after all," Marley remarked.

"I don't know, I'm still looking forward to knocking this devil unconscious," Jean taunted, which drew a slight gasp from Theresa and a hurt look from Brian.

"I'm sure if I promise Bren that we'll stop for chips, he'll be fine about leaving you behind at some rest stop," Neil said with a faint smile.

"Not if you're unconscious," Jean reminded him.

Yet _he_ was the devil, go figure.

Neil and Andrew - with an uncomfortable Jean and Day standing nearby - got to say 'goodbye' to each other in the men's bathroom before their teams left, little more than promising to call when they could over winter break and a chance to talk for a couple of minutes without a bunch of strangers watching on. Then it was back on the buses to return to Edgar Allan, where the Ravens rested for the evening in preparation of an intense week of practice before the team was allowed a rare holiday break.

Neil hoped it would be the last of the 16 hour days that the Ravens had to suffer through, especially since he'd held up his end of the bargain and kept his mouth shut during the banquet. It hadn't been easy when everyone had been talking about Tetsuji and what a 'great' man he was, but he'd done it.

Marley _might_ have kicked his shin a time or two to keep him quiet.

The extended week went by quickly, as it always did, when it was a blur of exhaustion and Exy, of pushing oneself out on the court and falling into bed at 'night' to grab a few hours of sleep just to get up the next ‘morning’ to repeat. The only difference from previous breaks was the few times when Neil had a chance to text Andrew or their schedules synched up and he could call.

Then it was everyone packing to go back home - everyone but Neil and Jean, who were headed to New York City again with Bren and Janna. Marley gave them fierce hugs before she left for the airport on an earlier flight, her expression almost angry. “Watch out for him, Crusty,” she ordered Jean, who gave her a solemn nod in return. “And don’t do anything too stupid this time, Shorty.”

“Just leave already,” Neil told her. “We need a break from you.”

“Whatever.” Her gaze lingered on him for a moment before she shook her head. “Be good. I mean that.”

“Just _go_.”

His smile slipped once she was gone, when he was faced with the prospect of a week with Ichirou and a busy itinerary; Stuart had called to warn them that they were expected to deal with a lot of sponsors while in town.

“At least there will be some alcohol,” Jean mused. “That should make everything bearable.”

“Wonderful, I get to deal with a drunk partner on top of it all. I can only hope that we’re on a high enough floor so I can end it all,” Neil said aloud, his smile restored when Jean took to ranting about devil partners and British oafs with their terrible sense of humor.

It was another private flight to New York City, where Neil sat through Bren and Jean arguing about if it would be better or worse to be inebriated during a plane crash until Janna threatened to have them test out their theory by letting one of them drink before she threw both of them out of the plane (Janna was Neil’s favorite that day).

They were booked at the Lowell hotel once again, the staff treating them with some familiarity at that point (Neil would cringe at it, but Marley was right about him having to get used to such things, and respectful service was better than fans coming up and asking for pictures or autographs). They were back in a large suite one floor below the penthouse, a set of rooms overlooking Manhattan with a fireplace and a large fruit basket in the small kitchen, and garment bags hanging in the bedroom.

Neil made himself some tea and had a tart orange along with a few butter biscuits as a snack while Jean enjoyed some of his precious cognac, they both took advantage of the soaking tub and then Bren and Janna joined them for dinner in their room on what Neil realized was Christmas Eve. He felt sorry for the fact that they were stuck with babysitting duty not only for the week but over the holidays, which prompted both of the enforcers to laugh.

“I keep telling you, I came here to get away from my family, such as it is,” Janna insisted as she twirled a forkful of her pasta dish.

“And I’m not gonna complain about being ‘stuck’ in a posh hotel in Manhattan for a week,” Bren added.

“Yes, but… wouldn’t you rather be with someone special?” Neil asked; wasn’t that what the holidays were about for most people? It’s what Marley and Susan and the rest of the Ravens had gone on about, how happy they were that this year they could see their families without feeling guilty about giving up any practice.

Bren and Janna exchanged an odd look before they laughed again, while Jean muttered about oblivious devils beneath his breath. “Uhm, Red? We’ve been dating for the past few months,” Bren said while motioning back and forth between him and a smiling Janna with a bread roll. “So again, we’re not complaining.”

“Oh.” Neil decided to shut up and eat his crab cakes before he made a bigger idiot out of himself, and had to wonder how he’d missed something like that.

They got to sleep in the next morning and have a nice late breakfast together, to just rest and relax on the ‘holiday’, and Stuart joined Neil and Jean for dinner that night, which made Neil happy. His uncle brought along presents from the rest of the family, people Neil hadn’t seen from years but whom apparently were following his career and any updates from Stuart, leaving an odd feeling in his chest as he took in the soft sweaters and jackets, the new messenger bag and everything else they’d bought for him.

They talked about Stuart’s brief return to London and some possible things that Neil and Jean could do between photo shoots (Jean wanted to visit the Metropolitan Museum of Art and a Broadway show, Neil to spend some time – jogging or not – in Central Park, and they both had a shopping list of things to get for friends back at the Nest). It was a good night.

The next day was when they were put to work, to paying back the debt forced upon them by their families. That day it was for ASICS, and Neil had to find a bit of (bitter) humor in that they were out in Central Park again for the shoot, doing active poses of them running around and jumping for a couple of hours in the cold. When it was done, Neil cajoled Janna and Bren to let him and a put-upon Jean run around on the paths for an hour, which made all the silliness from before worth it.

Especially when they returned to the hotel and found out that Ichirou had arrived. Neil and Jean were invited up to the penthouse for dinner, each dressed in one of the new outfits, and were treated to a delicious meal while Ichirou told them about the four coaches which Masato had lined up (Kubo and Noguchi among them) to start interviewing after the new year.

Once dinner was finished, Jean returned to their suite with Bren, while Neil stayed with Ichirou. “I was good at the banquet,” he told his lord. “No ranting about Tetsuji at all.”

“So I hear.” Ichirou poured them both something that smelled sweet and brought it over to where Neil was standing in the man’s opulent bedroom. “I also hear that you’re talking to Andrew Minyard again,” he said as he handed a glass of some sort of dessert liquor to Neil.

“Yes.” When Ichirou merely gazed at him, Neil’s smile faltered and he accepted the drink. “Ah, is there… is something wrong?” All he’d done was talk to Andrew.

Ichirou regarded him while sipping his own drink. “I’d thought that the two of you had a falling out.”

“We did,” Neil confessed as he clutched the small glass in his right hand and fought not to fidget for some reason. “But we saw each other at the banquet and… I enjoy talking to him, he’s one of the few people I _can_ talk to, all things considered.”

“And is that all you do, talk?”

Neil frowned at that. “What else would we do?”

Ichirou was quiet for a few seconds while Neil’s heartbeat sped up at the thought of the man being upset with him, at what Ichirou could do to Jean and Marley, and then he let out a slight chuckle. “What indeed. So you’re _friends_ once more.”

“Yes,” Neil agreed, and hoped that was the right answer.

“He’s still not trying to talk you into leaving Edgar Allan, is he?”

“No.” He shook his head and almost spilled the drink. “I told him not to ask that again, that it would never happen.”

“Good.” Ichirou appeared pleased by that and motioned to the drink. “Try it.”

Willing to do just about anything if it meant that his lord remained in a good mood, Neil tossed back the liqueur and nearly sputtered at its strength; it was _very_ sweet and _very_ potent. Yet he’d barely finished swallowing it when Ichirou was right in front of him, and had to force himself to remain still when his chin was gently grasped and tilted up for him to be kissed.

He ended up staying the night, Ichirou keeping him there afterwards for the first time. Neil lay still on the bed with Ichirou’s arm draped over his hips and could barely breathe, let alone sleep, mind plagued with thoughts about the strange behavior in regards to Andrew. Yet when morning came and Ichirou woke, he pulled on a smile and teased his lord about his disheveled state, about the stubble along his jaw and all that messy hair, and ended up making Ichirou late for his first meeting of the day.

“ _Did Jean have a preference for a show_?” Ichirou asked Neil after kissing him on the forehead.

“ _Hmm, the one with the president? Or something like that_.” Neil was more than a little sore at the moment, and in desperate need of caffeine and a shower; he hoped that he had time for both before they had to leave for the next photo shoot.

“ _I’ll tell Stuart, since I’ll be busy tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow, Nathaniel_.”

Taking that as his cue to leave, Neil winced as he stood then gathered his clothes, and had one of Ichirou’s men escort him downstairs.

Jean had clearly been worried despite Bren being notified about the plans for the night, but after giving Neil a quick hug didn’t fuss over him too much. He made Neil one hell of a cup of coffee (it had to be a few shots of espresso with a bit of milk), which Neil drank after standing in the hot shower for a few minutes (the damn photo shoot), and then it was back to Central Park, that time for Nike.

It was official by then that life hated him, because any other time he’d be happy to run around, to be outside and not trapped in the Nest, but he was so tired and his body ached and Ichirou was acting weird and people were staring at him and fussing with his face and hair and _touching_ him and… and he just wanted to start running and never stop.

But Jean was right there, and Bren, too. If he ran away, they’d pay the price for his freedom, along with Stuart and Marley and anyone else Ichirou thought it would hurt him because of their suffering, and it wouldn’t take long before he’d be tracked down again, not with all those damn pictures and games out on the net and… and it wasn’t worth it.

At least there were people whose job it was to keep bringing him coffee and energy bars to help get him through the day, and bouncing around helped to keep him awake.

When they returned to the hotel room, Stuart was there with tickets for them to go see Hamilton, which made Jean struggle to only appear mildly delighted at the news. Neil rolled his eyes before thanking his uncle for them both, and had to endure a lecture about behaving themselves while out in public and what to say if anyone asked them what they were doing in the city (a mix of a vacation and work with their sponsors, and were in town with two of the assistants from the team).

While Neil had been a freshman, Tetsuji had conveniently ‘killed’ off his fictional parents (foreshadowing much?), making it that much easier for him to remain at the Nest full-time and more difficult for anyone to track down ‘the Jostens’. As for Jean, it was a well-known ‘fact’ that he was estranged from his family, supposedly part of the reason why Tetsuji had brought him to Edgar Allan at such a young age and raised him at the Nest, so it shouldn’t seem too odd, them being off together when the rest of the team were visiting their families.

Stuart (or Ichirou?) had even made reservations at some fancy Japanese restaurant, so after dressing up a little, Neil and Jean, along with Janna and Bren, went out for the night. Neil flinched any time he heard his name or ‘Ravens’, but Bren did a good job of putting his impressive bulk between Neil and the rest of the diners, and soon enough he relaxed while enjoying the food and company – it was much like their meals at the Nest, only with much better food and no damn kale in sight.

Jean had to give his right hand a gentle squeeze a couple of times to keep him awake during the musical, which was actually really good for something that was supposed to be historic (Neil had thought they’d be singing like in an opera or something, not that he ever gave a Broadway show much thought). For a few hours, it was as if they were normal people, were able to do normal things.

He was able to sleep that night with Jean at his back, Jean’s arm around his chest as if making certain that he was there and safe.

They had to do some pictures for Brine Racquets the next day, then were able to go to the Met so Jean could wander around the floors full of artwork (Neil was pleased about the choice as well), a contemplative expression on his face the entire time. Neil had to wonder what his friend would have chosen as a major if he’d been given a chance, if it would have been an art degree of some kind or perhaps even as a dancer, considering the way he’d watched the performers on stage last night.

Jean would never have the chance, though, and neither would Neil, not when Ichirou and the infant son he’d mentioned last night owned them, when their lives boiled down to promises sworn by people other than them (at least on Jean’s part – Neil was damned twice over, by his father and himself).

Part of Neil wanted to start screaming while standing in the quiet, open space of the Met, surrounded by so much beauty and people who were free to go out and shop and eat and wander around the city, to do whatever they wanted while he and his best friend had to return to the hotel like good little property. He wanted to start screaming and never stop, to grab something and start smashing it… but he couldn’t. No scenes. No negative attention. No adding to the debt he already owed.

He wanted to call Andrew so much, to hear his friend’s deep, calm voice, but he didn’t dare right then, not when he felt like this, not with Ichirou so close (after that odd conversation). So he settled for taking a photo of some merchant in a Renaissance Classicism painting dressed all in black and sent it to his friend with a caption of ‘reminds me of you’. Then found a painting from a similar time period with an imp from hell and sent it as well, stating ‘no, wait, this is much better’.

Despite the anger and hopelessness weighing him down, he smiled when Andrew texted him back – ‘don’t think I won’t come up there just to break your fingers and phone’. Then there was an image of a disgruntled, fluffy little bird with its wings wrapped in bandages.

Neil spent the rest of the afternoon at the Met sending Andrew ridiculous images from pictures and sculptures, while Andrew sent him back even more ridiculous bird images, and all the while Jean just shook his head.

It was another dinner with Ichirou that evening, though Neil didn’t spend the night since his lord had to leave for another meeting. He scrolled through the bird photos while he soaked in the tub, until Jean told him it was late enough and to come to bed.

The next day they were at the New York Barons’ stadium of all places for the Adidas photo shoot, and then had dinner with Thomas Radcliffe, who owned the team along with Ichirou. He was a gregarious man in his late thirties, tall with light brown hair and green eyes, and regaled them with stories of about his childhood in Brooklyn before working his way up in a brokerage firm. “I always did love sports, though, even if I’m much better with numbers,” he admitted with a deep laugh. “And I’m smart enough to see that Exy’s got all the right ones behind it – it’s growing in popularity more and more each year, and the two of you will be a great addition to the team. You’ve already got a huge fan-base and people willing to buy things just because your faces are associated with it, because you win games… among other things. You’re only going to get bigger once you hit the pros.”

Neil forced himself to smile (to be a bit of Kurt) and nod his head and continue to eat while Thomas and Ichirou talked about endorsement deals and contracts throughout the meal, while his and Jean’s futures were planned out in detail. He’d known that they would go pro (that there was no choice _but_ for them to go pro) and that the Barons was the most likely team since Ichirou was a partial owner (so much easier to keep track of them, to keep control of them and their finances that way), but now… now it was being explicitly stated.

Radcliffe was already planning the spots on the team for when Jean graduated at the end of next year, and Neil two years after that. Their numbers were already reserved (had been ever since Riko had invented the ‘perfect court’), and there was an insinuation that the sooner they qualified for Court, the better (bigger endorsement deals, more prestige for the Barons).

Neil had to struggle to keep down the steak served for their dinner, and he could feel how Jean’s leg trembled when it pressed against his own.

They were given a bag each before they left Radcliffe’s house (mansion), all of it various Barons’ goods – jerseys and scarfs and other things that some of the other Ravens might like – and a laughing comment on how Radcliffe expected to see them win the championship that year.

Ichirou replied that there was no question of the Ravens winning while Neil continued to smile, his cheeks hurting from wearing the expression for so long at that point.

He spent the night up in Ichirou’s penthouse again, and as soon as he could leave, he changed into workout clothes and dragged a sleepy Bren and tense Jean out to Central Park to run despite the cold and the falling snow and his own exhaustion. Jean didn’t argue, didn’t say a word, just kept pace beside him as they ran along the paths for about two hours while Bren kept track of them by their phones.

They barely had any time to shower and change before going off to the photo studio where Neil had to smile yet again and drink enough Gatorade to make himself feel sick, especially since he’d barely eaten that day. At least it only lasted a couple of hours, and then Janna met up with them at some noodle place where they could eat lunch (Neil was reveling in the lack of green vegetables the last few days) and then do some shopping. Not his favorite way to spend a day, meandering around high end stores and being approached by a dozen or so fans asking for pictures together, but it enabled him to pick up some belated presents at least.

For New Year’s Eve, they all got a break… more or less. No photo shoots, but Neil and Jean went back up to the penthouse to spend the evening with Ichirou and Stuart and a few people Neil didn’t recognize, an informal party on the surface where Neil and Jean knew enough to only speak when spoken to and not cause any trouble.  Having Stuart hover nearby as if to watch over them didn’t help to put them at ease, or Ichirou ‘asking’ Neil to translate for the one Russian guest dressed in the expensive suit with the rough tattoos on the back of his hands whose grasp of English was a little spotty at times.

He got one text off to Andrew to wish him a Happy New Year, sent a bit early, and had a toast at midnight with his best friend, his uncle and his lord. By the time that everyone left the party, he was worn down and just wanted to go to bed – he’d had all of two glasses of champagne the entire night, but being around so many people had been exhausting on many levels. So he tried to smile when Ichirou led him to the penthouse’s bedroom, a feeling of gratitude washing through him when he was kissed on the lips and then told he could borrow a robe if he wanted for the night with nothing else following.

He got a little sleep, worn out as he was, and things were better in the morning when a bleary-eyed Ichirou woke up and pulled him closer, pulled him in for a kiss and then rolled on top of him while his hands sought out the belt of the soft robe already slipping down Neil’s shoulder.

“The interviews will start in three days,” Ichirou informed him while Neil gathered his clothes so he could return to his room. “I want the new coach decided before the first round of games are completed, so Andritch can’t try to gain control of the situation. He already seems to believe that my uncle should be keeping him up to date on what’s going on and sending him a list of the candidates as if he has any say in the matter.”

Well, he (or the university) would be paying the person’s salary, but Neil wasn’t foolish enough to mention that – Andritch should be used to the Ravens being autonomous from the university by now. “Is there anything you need me to do?” he asked.

Ichirou considered that before he came around the bed and tilted up Neil’s chin. “ _Listen to your uncle and Masato and keep winning, Nathaniel. Keep the players in line so Andritch won’t have any excuse to leave his nice little office and go into the Nest_.”

“ _Yes, my lord_.” Neil remained still while he was kissed then inclined his head in a respectful manner.

“ _I’ll see you in a few days_ ,” Ichirou told him while walking away. “ _Happy New Year, Nathaniel. May it be a prosperous one full of good luck to us both, one of many to come_.”

“ _Yes, my lord_ ,” Neil echoed, the fingers of his right hand clenching on the medallion hung around his neck as he shivered from the aching hollowness inside of him at thought about that ‘many’.

*******

It had been a quiet winter break, Kevin’s whining about no Exy aside; Andrew would never admit how empty the house could be without Nicky’s presence, especially with Kevin holed up in the den watching Exy games on his laptop and Aaron in his room skyping with Katelyn.

They ordered a lot of take-out, which made Kevin pout even more over all of the empty carbs and lack of vegetables and ‘bad’ calories they were eating and not burning off, yet the hypocrite still consumed his usual amount of alcohol when they went off to Eden’s or was just sitting there while watching his stupid games or joining them the few times they gathered to watch movies. There were the leftovers from Christmas dinner with Abby and Wymack which lasted a few days, which weren’t that much healthier considering the sweet potato casserole and dressing and everything else, but at least all Andrew had to do was reheat it.

It was two weeks of lazing about and reading and being able to talk to Neil a little and text a bit more; Neil still had practice at Evermore the first week and then was off to New York City after that, and Andrew had the impression that his friend would rather play Exy for most of the day.

Andrew would, too, considering that Neil (and Moreau) was spending the week with Ichirou fucking Moriyama.

Oh, there were pictures of the two out running around in Central Park and getting caffeinated drinks together, and of course there were more endorsement campaigns involved. Neil complained about spending a couple of days doing sprints in the cold for ASICS and Nike, and being stuck in photography studios for Brine and Gatorade. He still didn’t understand why those companies wanted anything to do with him, other than him being a Raven, and thought that they should be bothering some of his teammates instead.

He didn’t seem to understand how striking he looked paired with Moreau, the two of them the embodiment of the Ravens with their coloring and perfect features and chiseled bodies (any visible scars photo-shopped out). He didn’t seem to understand the impact he made, staring out from the screen or magazine page with those pale blue eyes of his, with those cheekbones and that hair and-

Andrew hated oblivious fools.

He also hated himself for being so damn attracted to gorgeous, oblivious fools.

He absolutely detested Ichirou Moriyama for having so much power over gorgeous, oblivious fools, for ‘owning’ them, for being able to force them to-

Neil was being careful not to say anything about Ichirou during his texts and the few minutes he could call while in New York, but Andrew could hear the increasing tension in his little bird’s voice, could hear the darkness and fragileness grow each time. He could see how Neil’s expression became blanker in each picture, how Moreau hovered closer and closer, a scowling presence determined to block everyone from his partner.

There was one text from Neil on New Year’s Eve wishing Andrew a Happy New Year, short and to the point, and he didn’t reply back to Andrew’s text until much later the next day – it was to tell Andrew he’d be returning to Edgar Allan on the 2nd and would call in another day or two.

So Andrew was somewhat startled to receive a call later, in the middle of the night which woke him up. One hand scrambled for the blades tucked beneath his pillow while the other went for the phone, and he held one in each before his brain caught up. As soon as he recognized Neil’s ‘name’ on the screen, he was fully awake and accepted the call. “What is it?” he demanded to know as he set the knife aside.

“Minyard.”

It was Moreau. “Where’s Neil? Did something happen?” Was it Ichirou? Had there been another ‘incident’ at the Nest? “Dammit, is he all right?” Andrew stood up so he could grab some jeans and head out to his car when Moreau finally spoke.

“He’s fine.” There was a tired laugh on the other end of the phone. “Well, mostly fine.”

The thunderous pounding in Andrew’s chest eased at those words, at least enough for him to breathe properly. “What do you mean, ‘mostly fine’?” He sank back down on the bed, then reached for his cigarettes and got up to crack open the window so he could smoke. “What’s going on? And don’t tell me ‘nothing’ or why else are you calling me?”

That prompted another tired laugh from the French bastard. “Neil’s currently running around court right now. He… it was a nightmare,” Moreau explained. “That’s not unusual, but tonight it was remarkably bad and he didn’t want to bother Marley so he came out here. I came with him and now I’m talking to you.”

Not a proper explanation, but it was a start. “On _his_ phone.”

“It has your number on it, and it’s not like I’m hiding anything from him.” Moreau yawned then mumbled something in French about bastard gargoyles. “He can see me if he looks up, and you can tell him about it.”

Andrew thought about that, thought about Neil’s weird, symbiotic relationship with his partner; he didn’t like it, didn’t like the whole Ravens’ pairing bullshit, but there was something protective going on between the two – somewhat. That and it was clear what _wasn’t_ going on between them, and that was anything sexual. “What set him off tonight, Valjean? Why is he running around the damn track?” They could swipe at each other another night, right now he wanted to know what was wrong with Neil.

It was quiet for a few seconds and then Moreau sighed. “He’s worried about the upcoming season, about the new coach and winning this year’s championship.”

That didn’t sound right. “He’s always worried about winning,” Andrew said after he lit a cigarette. “Why is it so bad this season?” When Moreau was quiet again, he tapped his lighter against the windowsill. “What happened in New York? What did that bastard do to him?”

“Nothing!” There was a harsh breath which bled into another tired chuckle. “At least, not in the way you think, not quite. It was…,” there were more faint mumbles for a few seconds, “ah… _comments_ , if you will. _Insinuations_. Dinner with Thomas Radcliffe of the New York Barons and discussions of our future contracts with the team as long as we continued to do _well_. Talks about our endorsement deals and our places in the Court. All of that is dependent on the Ravens continuing to be the best.”

Of _course_ Ichirou Moriyama would wave in front of their faces how much they owed him, how their lives depended on them being of value to him. How they needed to keep being productive, keep being the best so the Moriyamas could earn as much money as possible from their hard work and sacrifice. He would do such a thing and then force Neil into his bed, and expect Neil to function under all of that stress.

Andrew threw the lighter across the room and wished that it was a knife aimed at the throat of a certain Japanese prick just then, and had to take a deep breath before he called out Moreau for failing to protect Neil, for not shoving a fork or nearest sharp object into Moriyama’s eye when he had the first opportunity.

It wouldn’t change anything and would just lead to Neil not speaking to him again, perhaps permanently.

“So Ichirou drags the two of you to New York to make more money off of you and to fuck Neil, then lays the mother of all guilt-trips on you. All of which understandably freaks Neil out, considering that he’s put himself on the line for you and Patel. Have I got that right?”

It sounded as if Moreau was grinding his teeth together. “You are a _very_ unpleasant individual.”

Like Andrew gave a shit. “Am. I. Right?”

“Yes,” Moreau gritted out.

“Okay.” Andrew blew out a plume of smoke as he thought about tracking down Ichirou and killing the prick, even though he knew all of the reasons why that was a bad idea. “How long are you going to let him run around in circles?”

Moreau took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “At least a little longer to give him a chance to wear himself out.” He was quiet for a moment. “Listen, I didn’t call for you to berate me over what’s happened but so you know to take care with him. For some reason he’s decided to trust you again so don’t fuck it up, Minyard. He’s under enough pressure that he doesn’t need you hurting him again or doing anything that’ll get him in any trouble with Ichirou. _Behave_ for once, you miserable gargoyle.”

Andrew considered that, considered what was being said and what it must cost Frenchie to reach out to him, all for Neil’s sake. “How would Neil get into trouble with Ichirou, hmm? What does that mean?”

There was more muttered cursing, that time in Japanese. “I’m only telling you this so you don’t cause him any grief. Ichirou knows he’s talking to you again, and I… Ichirou didn’t tell him he _couldn’t_ , not when Neil swore you were just friends and he has no intentions of leaving the Ravens, when Bren confided in me that he was asked if he saw anything happening between the two of you and he told Stuart that you two just sat and talked, but I believe that Ichirou isn’t pleased.”

Hearing Neil have to promise to remain at Edgar Allan, to placate the bastard who considered him property, made Andrew want to destroy something, to break it into tiny pieces. More than anything he wished that he’d somehow brought Neil back to Palmetto when he’d left the Winter banquet, that he’d put an end to Ichirou Moriyama’s absurd ‘claim’.

But that would have just endangered Andrew’s family and Kevin, along with the Foxes and the people Neil cared about, let alone Neil. Andrew had to be smart about the whole thing, had to do everything right; he couldn’t let his foolish emotions get in the way.

First and foremost, Neil could only be his _friend_ while Ichirou ‘owned’ him.

Second, Moreau was right in that he needed to ‘behave’ – at least in regards to not causing trouble for Neil. Not when Ichirou had people like Bren around Neil all of the time and apparently reporting back on him (even if it appeared that Bren was trying to look out for Neil). Andrew wasn’t going to be responsible for Neil getting into trouble or deeper into Moriyama’s debt.

“I’m just someone he calls to bitch with, it’s as simple as that. We exchange insults and I keep him appraised of what’s going on with Kevin and Curtis,” Andrew said.

“That may be enough to convince Ichirou and Neil’s uncle, but we both know it’s more than that,” Moreau insisted, his French accent thicker just then. “Listen to me, conn, I’ve had to watch Riko do his best to break Neil apart and for Ichirou to lay claim to him as if he’s some damn prize. There’s nothing I could have done to stop _them_ without making it even worse, but you? _You_ I can stop if I think for one moment you’re going to hurt Neil again. So no mistakes this time.”

Andrew considered the determination in Frenchie’s voice and scoffed. “Do a better job of watching out for him.”

“Did you hear a-“

“It’s not going to happen again,” Andrew promised, annoyed that he even had to say the words. “Now get him off court and back to bed. And tell him to call me tomorrow.” Then he hung up.

He smoked another cigarette while Moreau tried to call him back once, which he ignored, the nicotine helping to calm him down a little, then forced himself to go back to sleep; there wasn't much he could do for Neil, not while they were separated by hundreds of miles, not while Neil was tied to the Moriyamas, not while Andrew had oaths of his own to uphold.

Not yet.

What he could do was be there the next day when Neil called, later in the evening. "Did you get any sleep?"

"Uhm, a couple of hours," Neil admitted. "Jean shouldn't have called you, you didn't need to be woken up, too."

"I can sleep in, unlike a certain feather-brained birdy," Andrew said. "Just how smart is it to practice when exhausted, vice-captain?"

"Okay, first off? So done with the all the bird references," Neil complained. "Second? Since when did you care about anything to do with Exy?"

"I don't, but you do." Andrew grabbed a beer and ignored the pointed look his brother was giving him as he went back up to his room to talk in peace. "Now why are you freaking out about this season? The only team that's going to give you any difficulty are the Trojans, and they haven't beaten you yet."

"But they're looking really good this year, they tightened up their line and-"

"Neil." Andrew only spoke the one word, but he put a lot of weight behind it, which made the stressed idiot shut up. When things were quiet for a few seconds, he sighed. "They may have gotten better, but so have the Ravens. You've improved without Riko grandstanding out on court."

"Thank you," Neil told him, his tone earnest. "So Jean mentioned about... well, he let you know about what happened in New York, right?"

"About you being told to win or else? Yeah." Andrew had to hold back on the impulse to throw the beer bottle, since he'd just be trashing his own room. So instead he set it aside for later and lit a cigarette, which he could smoke while sitting in the open window.

"It wasn't quite like that, but... it matters." Neil muttered something in Japanese for a few seconds. "I don't want to mess this up, it's too important to mess up. Too many people rely on me and I can't let them down." He sounded beyond stressed, sounded wound up enough to do something stupid.

"Listen to me," Andrew said with a hint of concern. " _Listen_. All Kevin talks about is how good you are, how you should have been a Fox and playing with us. Matheson hates you because he's tired of having you thrown in his face all of the time, of hearing about how he's not as good as you and how you'll make Court one day soon, how he needs to try harder to even be half the player you are. If that know-it-all thinks you've got what it takes, then you're more than fine."

Neil was quiet for a few seconds and then he laughed, the sound weary but genuine. "How much does it hurt to talk about Exy like this?"

"Excruciating," Andrew admitted while some of his agitation calmed at the sound. "So shut up about this shit."

"Okay. So how was your winter break? Did you flat out hibernate or did you move a little? A few feet a day? Surprise me and say 'yes'."

"Fuck you," Andrew said in a bland manner, which earned him another laugh. "I actually went up and down the steps at least once a day."

"Wow, you over-achiever, you," Neil cooed, which made things twist inside of Andrew in a manner which took his breath away and his skin tingle. “Did you break out in a sweat?”

“Why didn’t I strangle you when I had the chance?”

“Hmm, well, since you actually put a tiny bit of effort into that thing we’re not supposed to talk about anymore and you’ll get another chance in a couple of weeks,” Neil taunted him in a sing-song voice. “ _Maybe_.”

“You’re a smart-mouthed bastard,” Andrew stated as he flicked ash out of the window.

“I know.” Neil sounded perfectly fine with that fact. “So, any fun classes this semester?”

It seemed they were back to their game of questions. “Abnormal Psychology. Gee, I wonder if there’s _anyone_ out there I can use as a test subject.”

“Hmm, I don’t know, Day perhaps?” Neil suggested in that too-sweet to be believed tone of voice of his. “I recommend Day.”

Andrew chuffed at that. “I was thinking maybe a little birdy who likes to run at the mouth, except when he should be singing an interesting song or two.”

That prompted an exaggerated gasp from said little bird. “Experimenting on _animals_? How _could_ you, you monster?”

“Very funny.” Andrew flicked the cigarette butt outside and closed the window; his room was cold now yet that damn feeling of warmth was firmly settled in his chest because of Neil’s teasing, by the amusement plain in that tenor voice instead of darkness and weariness. “You’re just proving my point.”

“I’ll know something’s up when the weird black and white splotchy artwork shows up in the mail. Oh, and _yes_ , I hate my father, I think you can just go ahead and check that box, though I never got the whole cigar thing,” Neil mused aloud.

“No one buys into that Freud shit anymore,” Andrew informed him. “Stick with chasing after balls, Josten.”

“Hmm, that’s not nice at all. Is there an etiquette class for you to take?”

“I think that’s rather ironic coming from you, considering how you told one team that they played like half-blind otters riding unicycles out on court,” Andrew reminded the smart-ass.

“Yet did I lie?” Neil shot back.

Andrew hated smart-asses.

They spoke for a few more minutes, a rapid-fire exchange of insults, taunts and insights which left Andrew feeling better than he should from a conversation of all things. Neil certainly sounded better than when he’d called Andrew, though Andrew knew it was a mere stop-gap measure; as soon as Neil had to deal with Ichirou again, had another veiled threat lobbed his way or faced a difficult game then his confidence would plummet.

The three of them left for PSU the next day since Nicky would be flying back in, along with the rest of the Foxes, and Wymack wanted the team to meet up to go over the championship season. They dumped their stuff in the dorm room while Nicky prattled on about Erik and Germany and the presents he’d brought back, then headed off to the stadium where Renee, Reynolds, Boyd and Wilds were already waiting. Renee gave Andrew a warm smile and talked to him about her winter break (a few days with Stephanie and then the rest with Reynolds at some fancy resort) then asked him about his and how Neil was doing (mostly quiet and mostly good).

Curtis and Yee arrived next, and then the freshmen straggled in – once again White and Hayes had scheduled their flights so they could catch a ride together, and finally Hurst and Matheson showed up since they seemed connected at the hip. Once the team was assembled, Abby began to hand out the information packets on the first round of the playoffs.

Andrew already knew that they’d be playing the Ravens since they were in the odds bracket, and now it appeared that they’d be playing the East Central University Tigers out in Oklahoma, and then the UNM Lobos.

Oh, how wonderful, two away games. Andrew had dark thoughts about Exy addicts and little birds as he listened to Wymack prattle on about the schedule.

Matheson grinned and smacked the folded packet in his left hand against his right palm as soon as their beloved coach finished his boring speech. “This is going to be easy, we’re _so_ going to kick ass.”

Aaron, sitting on Andrew’s right, scoffed at that while Boyd shook his head and Kevin leaned forward. “No, we’re not,” Kevin corrected the asshole, his thick black brows drawn into a scowl that looked almost identical to the one on Wymack’s face (Andrew felt like taking a picture to hang on the wall then sit back to see how long it took for people to figure things out). “We’re going up against the _Ravens_ , did you learn _nothing_ back in October? We’re going to have to pull out all of the stops to ensure that we win the necessary two out of the three games, and we’re certainly not going to beat the Ravens in our current shape.”

“It doesn’t mean we give up,” Wilds was quick to add, “but there’s no call to get cocky just yet. We’ll be out on that court for every practice giving it our all, and I want to see teamwork, dammit.” She gave Matheson and Hurst a pointed look. “We’re not going to be able to surprise people like we did last year, they’re considering us contenders this year so we have something to prove.”

“We’re gonna beat those arrogant-“

“Will you be _quiet_?” Reynolds told Matheson as she flicked her manicured fingers at him. “You haven’t even put in all of the years and effort that some of us have, and helped drag this team from the bottom to the semi-finals. We’re not going to crash and burn because you’ve got some stupid axe to grind with the Ravens – guess what? Almost no one likes them because they’re the best. Get used to them beating you and work on passing to someone other than Kevin if you want that to change, little boy.”

Matheson gaped at her before he turned to Wymack. “What the hell? Can she say that to me?”

“She summed things up pretty good in my opinion,” Wymack told him while he scratched the back of his head. “Learn to play well with others and it won’t be such an issue.”

 Andrew walked out when the yelling started. The rest of the ‘monsters’ scurried to join him (well, Aaron sort of sauntered, busy texting the- Katelyn), with Kevin slumping into the passenger seat with his arms folded over his chest and a scowl on his face.

“This wouldn’t be a problem if Neil had just joined the team.”

Oh, someone was a wishful dreamer, weren’t they?

“Ooo, wouldn’t that be nice?” Nicky crooned from his spot in the back. “So much ho-ah, so much skill on the team,” he quickly amended with a nervous laugh when Andrew glanced at him through the rearview mirror. “And maybe Andrew would be _happy_ for once.”

“Doubtful,” Aaron muttered, not even bothering to look up from his phone to see Andrew give him the finger.

“It would be even worse,” Andrew enlightened them. “Matheson would be even more of a jealous shit because of Neil.”

Nicky seemed to think about that and nodded, then reached over to tousle Kevin’s hair, which earned him an angry swat. “Why can’t you do something about your little follower, huh? He sort of listens to you.”

“He’s not my anything,” Kevin complained. “At least he puts some effort into practice, which is more than the three of you do!” He shot Andrew an accusatory look.

“Because he luuuvs you! He wants to be you!” Nicky was back to crooning and tried to hug Kevin; Andrew kept an eye on his cousin to make sure that Nicky didn’t cross any lines, but it was nothing more than playful teasing (for once).

They returned to the Fox Tower, where Nicky opened up his suitcases (multiple, for a two week trip), and handed out the numerous gifts he’d brought back from Stuttgart. There were black wool sweaters for Andrew and Aaron and history books for Kevin (in English), some bottles of potent brandy that had made the trip in one piece, and of all thing a big stuffed raven plushie for Andrew (from some castle Nicky and Erik had visited). Nicky gave another nervous laugh when he handed it to Andrew. “For, you know, those nights you’re missing your new sweetie.”

Andrew gave him a flat look for several seconds then snatched the bottle of brandy sitting in front of Kevin. “Hey! That’s mine!”

“And now it’s not,” he declared as he took his presents (the damn raven included) off to the bedroom.

“Why?”

“Because all of this is your fault.” If Kevin hadn’t shown up, then Andrew would never have crossed paths with a certain little bird, would never be plagued with vile _emotions_ , wouldn’t have to deal with Ravens at all.

He needed the alcohol more than Kevin did.

He especially needed it after classes started up and he was back in Bee’s office with Aaron, with a certain psychiatrist appearing well-rested from the break and rather smug (Andrew had exchanged a few texts with her to let her know that Neil was talking to him again and when she’d wished him a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year). “So, another semester begins, and another championship season. Did you at least have a nice break?” she asked them once they were settled in their chairs, mugs of hot chocolate in Andrew’s and Bee’s hands.

“It was good,” Aaron began as he glanced at Andrew. “Quiet, except for Kevin going on about us needing to exercise if we weren’t going to be out on court every day, and complaining about how we couldn’t eat pizza all of the time. He gets really bad about stuff like that whenever he’s been around the Ravens.”

“He misses all that kale,” Andrew murmured as he thought about Neil’s little mini-rants about the detested vegetable.

“Yes, I’ve heard that the team has one of the stricter diets out there, all things considered. I must say upon seeing some of their photos, it does have impressive results.” She gave Andrew a knowing grin for a moment. “A healthy diet isn’t necessarily a bad thing. I would have thought that you of all people would agree, Aaron, considering your major.”

He frowned at that while he tugged on a hangnail on his left thumb. “I try not to eat a bunch of junk food, yeah, especially since I can focus better when studying if I don’t, but I’m not going to drink those disgusting shakes Kevin does every morning or have plain chicken breast every night or, what was it?” he asked Andrew.

“Kale,” he said louder.

“Oh hell no,” his brother insisted. “Katelyn tried to pass that off in salad once and it was gross. I’m not a damn goat.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m just your psychiatrist and not your dietician,” Bee remarked with an amused little smirk. “And on that note….”

They (well, Aaron and Bee) spent the hour going over more Tilda and Luther shit, how Aaron now had a couple of little mental exercises to cycle through if he thought that he was falling into the mindsets that he’d picked up from either of those unsavory individuals. There were a few muttered ‘assholes’ and frowns sent Andrew’s way when he chose to sit there in silence during the session, until Aaron grabbed his bag from the floor and stomped out of the office near the end of the hour.

“Really, Andrew?” Bee scolded. “Aaron is holding up his end of the deal, you should be more cooperative.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about the tra- about Katelyn?” he asked.

“Ah.” Bee rose from her chair and slowly approached his with her hand outheld, into which he placed his empty mug. “Patient confidentiality. That and I didn’t want to give you the wrong impression, that her seeing me meant that you’d broken her in any manner.” She accompanied that statement with a particularly flat look of her own.

“For a pom-pom waving tramp, she’s remarkably resilient.”

“I wouldn’t expect _you_ to fall back on stereotypes.” Bee set the mugs aside and leaned against her desk, her expression now thoughtful. “How are things going with Neil, really?”

“Better yet frustrating,” Andrew admitted. “I know what’s bothering him now, yet I can’t do anything to stop it.” Not with just a few knives, at the least.

“Then some good came out of it, you learning the truth.” When Andrew stood up from his chair and went to leave, she huffed a little. “Don’t be so dramatic, you know I didn’t mean it quite so literally. Things aren’t perfect and I’m sorry that both of you went through all of that, but it’s still best that you know the truth, Andrew.”

Perhaps, but the truth sucked. He paused near the door and glanced back at her. “Still meeting at 3:30?”

“I think we can cut back to Tuesdays and Thursdays now.” Judging from her smile just then, she knew he wanted the sessions more to get out of practice than anything. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He gave her a two-fingered salute before he left.

For a week it was practice, practice and practice, leading up to their Thursday night game with the ECU Tigers, interspersed with classes and a couple of phone calls with Neil. Andrew had to talk him down another night when one of the potential coaches, Daiki Kubo, showed up on campus and thought that Neil and Jean were being too ‘easy’ on the team.

“I can’t,” Neil told Andrew, the panic evident in his voice. “I can’t, _I can’t_ ,” he repeated in a faster pace. “It’s supposed to get better! It was one thing when all we had was Tetsuji but he’s supposed to be gone, it’s supposed to end and I just _can’t_ , it’s-“

“Breathe,” Andrew ordered as he sat up on the roof, his burning cigarette discarded next to him and a useless anger simmering inside of him. “ _Breathe_ , Neil. Count each one. In, one, out, two. Again.”

He could hear the shuddering breaths on the other line as Neil struggled to do just that, the faint murmurs of Moreau and Patel in the background. It sounded as if Patel was offering him tea while Moreau was saying that it would be all right in French.

“It’s supposed to get better,” Neil said with weary resignation after a couple of minutes.

Andrew wondered if someone had told Neil that and felt the anger flare stronger. “It’s just _one_ interview, give it some time. You’re sounding like Kevin, believing the worst right away.”

That seemed to derail Neil’s little hissy fit enough for him to calm down. “That… was a bit uncalled for?”

“No, not at all.”

“… asshole,” Neil mumbled, but he sounded almost normal then, and spent a few minutes talking about their upcoming game that Thursday.

Andrew wanted to tell him not to do anything drastic, to not make any new promises, but he forced himself to remain quiet. It was just one interview, there was no reason to overreact just yet.

_Yet._

It was a bit of a change, having games on Thursdays instead of Fridays, and of course it was never fun having to fly to Oklahoma for the damn thing. At least the airport wasn’t as busy that day, though Andrew had to put up with Aaron hanging all over a smirking Katelyn and a White who apparently hated flying even more than he did.

He was waiting at the gate while drinking a triple mocha latte with extra whipped cream when his phone rang. "Do you think those little carts can do enough damage to a body if I fling a person in front of them? Maybe if they're loaded down with a lot of luggage?"

Andrew sipped his drink while he considered the question. "Doubtful. Better chance of shoving them in a suitcase and letting them freeze in the luggage compartment."

"Hmm." Neil seemed to think about that. "She just might fit." In the background poetic Patel complained about 'Shorty' adoring her. "Don't lose too badly tonight, I'm off to find a trunk or something."

Despite preparing to board a plane, Andrew felt a lot better all of a sudden. Especially when he checked his Instagram account and found pictures of a glowering Neil at the airport as well, surrounded by his fellow Ravens and what looked to be a few fans. The caption was an oh so clever 'little bird getting ready to fly'.

No wonder he was ready to shove Patel beneath a moving vehicle.

Moreau must have intervened like the 'good' captain he was, because when Andrew checked his phone later, there were more pictures of Neil in the airport at the Twin Cities, perusing another plushie rack at the souvenir store (what was up with that?). The Ravens were playing the Minnesota Golden Gophers, with the odds strongly in their favor to win (of course).

The Foxes stopped to grab some Italian for dinner before they arrived at the ECU campus, where it was the start of another championship season. The freshmen were a mix of nerves and cockiness, Kevin was more settled that time around (but still an arrogant asshole) and the upperclassmen appeared to have a 'let's just enjoy the hell out of this' attitude.

Andrew just wanted to get the game over with so he could go back to PSU and spend most of the weekend in bed.

The Tigers took the lead in the first half of the game, though not by much, when Matheson was out on the court a lot with Kevin and Yee. The second half was when Andrew was swapped out into the goal for Renee, and Curtis took over as the dealer. Matheson and Hurst weren't happy about sitting on the bench, but the team needed to make up the points and ensure that they held on to the lead, and they couldn't do it while Wymack allowed his 'let everyone have some time on the court' attitude screw them over.

It required Andrew working a little harder than he liked, but it was worth it to watch the Tigers grow steadily more frustrated whenever they managed to slip past Boyd and Aaron, only to have their shots on the goal flung down the opposite end of the court where Kevin would score a point with Curtis' and Yee's help, where those two would score a point or two themselves. When they got far enough ahead - 13 to 7 - Wymack put Hayes in the goal for the last few minutes of the game; Boyd and Aaron made sure that the Tigers only gained one more point.

Of course the Ravens won _their_ game, by a larger point gap at that, and Andrew watched highlights of the interview on the way to the airport where Neil basically tore apart a Saint Paul reporter for questioning if the Ravens could continue to move on through the season with Tetsuji retiring. He flat out called the guy a moron and asked if anyone wanted to go up to Thea Muldani or any of the other successful ex-Ravens and ask them if they needed Tetsuji to hold their hands out on court in order to play Exy, and continued in a sarcastic tone that somehow they would figure out how to chase after a ball without their revered coach.

Kevin, who'd been leaning over the back of the rented bus to listen in, rubbed at his face and shook his head. "How is he getting away with that?"

"Because the fans love it." Judging from the hundreds of comments, they ate up the way that Neil defended the Ravens from anyone who tried to make the team look bad or tear it down. Neil didn't have Riko's smugness or Kevin's arrogance, so even non-Ravens fans were amused by his sharp tongue - unless it was their team he was insulting at the moment.

They talked on Sunday, before Andrew's practice session with Renee. "Are you going to be a drama queen today?" Andrew asked as he searched through his drawers for an old pair of sweatpants.

"Fuck you," Neil told him with a sweet voice. "So, you started the season off with a win. Such a shame you're going to lose next week."

"Ask me if I care." Matheson and Hurst were the only ones who _did_ expect the Foxes to win against the Ravens - at least that year - while everyone else was focused on winning the third game in the first round.

"I know better than that. You're still gonna lose, though."

"I'm gonna enjoy lobbing balls at that empty head of yours."

Neil scoffed at that. "Like I'm not used to that by now."

Andrew frowned when he realized something. "Why is it so quiet?" Normally there was some 'noise' when he talked to Neil, was Moreau and lately Patel complaining whenever he was 'mean' to his little bird.

"Yeah, that." Neil breathed out and then made a faint chuffing sound. "I'm out on court with Bren while Jean's making a personal call." There was a muffled voice in the back. "Uhm, Bren said 'tell the runt I said hi'."

Andrew chose to ignore that. "Moreau has friends?" Other than Neil and poetic Patel? That was a surprise.

"He's working on it." There was a teasing note in Neil's voice which Andrew knew not to trust. "We sort of convinced him to talk to Knox about some captain stuff."

"Just captain stuff?" That was rather suspicious, especially when one considered how protective Neil was of his partner, of what had been implied about Riko and the going-ons at the Nest.

Neil hummed a little for a couple of seconds. "If you want to see Knox get all flustered, bring up Jean."

Interesting. "That's going to break Kevin's heart, considering how flustered _he_ gets over the Trojan."

"Isn't that a shame." Judging from the acidic tone just then, Andrew was willing to bet that Kevin still wasn't Neil's favorite person just then. "Has he moved on from Thea then? Just another person he's used and discarded?"

Oh yes, someone still had a few unresolved issues with a certain ex-Raven. "I don't know, he always watches her games but that's about it. Then again, this is someone who thinks romance means knowing all their Exy stats."

Neil scoffed at that. "And what do you think?"

"That romance is a pathetic societal convention."

Now the little bird laughed. "All right, so what do you do if you like someone?"

"Not kill them," Andrew gritted out, and waited for the idiot to get it.

Instead, Neil only laughed a little more. "I guess it saves you money on flowers.”

 _Of course_ the idiot didn’t get it.

Andrew took out some of his frustration with Renee down in the basement, and didn’t feel any guilt (not that he was so inclined to do so in the first place) for giving her a black eye after she mentioned a new book she was reading on relationships (oh, was it _serious_ , her and Reynolds? How sickening) which she thought might help him.

It was another hectic week leading up to the Ravens game, another series of pep rallies (Katelyn made a point to grin as she handed Andrew several temporary stickers one day, with the Vixens fanned out behind her like some mirthless Greek chorus) and the campus being festooned with white and orange banners and everything looking all neat and tidy. That time around there wasn’t any hint of animosity between the teams, not with Riko gone and Curtis playing for them; Neil had turned his sharp tongue on the Foxes just like he did every other team, but he never crossed any lines, never uttered any obvious insults (well, he did make a crack or two about Andrew being on the lazy side, the bastard). It was clear that he thought of Kevin as the best striker in the division if not in Exy and that Andrew had talent (if he could be bothered to put it to use), and that the Foxes had potential, and he looked forward to playing against his former teammate. He also expected the Ravens to win, but for it to be a fun game.

Andrew received another phone call in the middle of the week, that time from an exhausted little bird with no humor, no teasing, no life in his voice. “It’s not going to be Kubo,” he said, his voice so quiet that Andrew had to strain to hear it and then search his memory for what Neil meant by that.

“Your new coach.” He was quiet as he considered that. “Has a choice been made?” The press had been reporting on each person going in and out of Castle Evermore since the start of the new year, of each potential candidate for Tetsuji’s replacement.

“It looks like it. Hiroshi Noguchi.” There was the slightest hint of relief in Neil’s voice, a tiny crack of emotion. “We thought he’d be the one at first, but Kubo showed up and was so confident that he had it, and-“ He caught his breath and grew quiet.

And Neil had learned not to take anything for granted, just like Andrew didn’t. Had learned over the years, the last couple especially, that if there was a way for life to fuck him over and make him bleed that it would do it in a heartbeat. That some days it seemed that he only existed to see in how many pieces he could be broken and still technically be considered ‘alive’.

Yes, Andrew knew it very well.

“So Noguchi,” Andrew prodded in an attempt to get his little bird out of that awful headspace – to make him stop thinking of how badly it could go, and because he suspected that Neil had just come from Ichirou. “He’s been working with the Phoenix Pumas for the last few years. I haven’t heard anything bad about him.” He hadn’t heard _Kevin_ say anything bad about the man when his name had come up as one of those people who’d gone to Castle Evermore in the last few days, other than to remark about what a shame it had been, his career-ending injury.

“No.” Neil’s footsteps echoed, which made Andrew believe that he was back out on court. “No, he was… he was all right. A bit critical, but Jean and I think he’s looking at us and seeing what he can change, all the ways he can make us better. I can deal with that as long as he… as long as he doesn’t touch us,” he admitted in a faint voice, while Andrew heard a muttered ‘ _fuck_ , Red,’ in the background.

Noguchi better not touch Neil or the rest of the Ravens if he wanted to live very long.

“Neil, promise me something,” Andrew said as he played with his lighter and looked out over the campus, for once the trill of fear in his chest not from being up so high.

“Ah… I don’t… you know I can’t do that.”

“It’s not about Ichirou or leaving the Nest, and it doesn’t break any of your other promises,” Andrew assured him.

It was quiet for a few seconds before Neil sighed. “Okay. What do you want?”

It was Andrew’s turn to be quiet as his breath caught in his throat at Neil’s acceptance, at that trust, and he sparked the lighter to use the sudden heat and brightness to help move past the useless emotion. “If Noguchi ever does touch you, you tell me. _Immediately_.”

There was quiet muttering in Japanese for a couple of seconds, and then Neil sighed again. “All right, but what can you do?”

“You’ll be surprised, and you’ll find out. Now go get some rest, I’m sure Moreau is having fits right now, wondering where you’re at.” Neil sounded as if he could crawl into bed and not wake up for a dozen hours or two, and if there was one thing his partners were good at, it was fussing over him.

“See you Thursday,” Neil told him before hanging up.

Except there was a message before the game about ‘change of plans’, which didn’t explain much, did it? Andrew stood outside to watch the Ravens disembark from their buses, all that damn black and red, with Neil close to Moreau’s side (and Bren and Janna hovering not too far away); his friend flashed him a smile and a slight wave while the team headed to the Away team’s entrance.

Noguchi was there with the coaches, along with the one guy who’d been at the last Ravens’ game with Nakamura. The one who had given Andrew a pointed look. Who was giving him a flat look right then, in fact.

“Who is he?” Andrew asked Curtis when they were gathered in the lounge before going out onto the court. “Has Patel told you anything?”

“Andrew,” Renee warned him, a rare show of displeasure on her face, but Curtis shook her head and held up her hands.

“No, this time it’s fine, Marley gave me a call because she figured you’d be bothering me. That guy is Masato Ishii, he’s like some assistant to… well, he helps run things,” she said after glancing around the room. “Especially since Tetsuji’s just a figurehead anymore.”

Meaning he reported to Ichirou and was the real power at the Nest, at least until Noguchi took over, and possibly even then. “Marley said it’s important, him being here, but it’s not bad!” she said in a rush when he stilled. “No one’s in trouble, especially Neil! But she wanted me to tell you to _behave_ and not be a stupid monkey-fucker and mess things up or else he might be, all right?”

He gazed at her before walking away, leaving Renee to assure her little protégé that things would be fine.

Kevin came up to him once they were out on the court warming up, the Foxes on the outer court and the Ravens on the inner. “ _What do you think that’s about_?” Kevin asked in French.

Andrew was quiet for a few seconds. “ _Perhaps something to do with the new coach_.”

“Oh.” Kevin seemed to think about that and gave a nervous glance over at Wymack, who was talking to one of the referees about something. “ _It’s nothing bad, right? Nothing that’ll cause trouble_?”

“ _No reason to get your panties in a twist_ ,” Andrew drawled. “ _And you need to tell him_.”

That made Kevin glower while stumbling for a couple of steps. “ _I will! Just… not when it might mess up our season. This summer, okay_?”

Andrew would believe it when it actually happened, but was distracted by the fact that the Ravens were running laps in the opposite direction, and each time Neil passed, he made a funny face at Andrew (as did Patel).

“I can so see the attraction,” Aaron remarked in a droll tone; he and Nicky had caught up to Andrew and Kevin. “Just your type, why didn’t I figure it out sooner?”

“Aw come on, I think it’s adorable!” Nicky declared. “And he’s hot as hell, there’s something wrong with you. Sexy and a sense of humor – maybe there’s something wrong with Kevin, too, since he’s the boring Raven. Ex-Raven, whatever.” That earned him scowls from Aaron _and_ Kevin, while Andrew was determined to keep his cousin as far away from Neil as possible.

“Fuck you,” Kevin spat, proving that he still needed to learn some better insults.

“And you’re skipping the part where Andrew’s _boyfriend_ is messed up,” Aaron argued.

“Oh, look, it’s the Vixens. They get new uniforms?” Andrew asked in a bland manner, and kept on running when his moronic twin nearly broke his neck while tripping over his own feet to twist about and look for the non-existent cheerleaders.

“We need him able to play tonight,” Kevin complained as he glanced back over his shoulder to where Aaron was shouting about how much of an asshole Andrew was, while Nicky stayed behind to help him up. Andrew merely shrugged.

Having Aaron on the court didn’t do the Foxes much good; it was a home game with the crowd cheering them on and Kevin in top form, but the freshmen still hadn’t ‘meshed’ yet with the rest of the team and the Ravens were all too aware of that fact from October. The Ravens also were out to prove to the division and their soon to be new coach that they were still the best, that they could bring home a title without Riko (or Tetsuji).

It seemed that each game they were growing more certain beneath Moreau’s captainship (a young man who didn’t even care much for Exy, according to Kevin), were finding their footing without Riko’s abusive, oppressive presence holding them back. Kevin did everything he could to score points, but when he _could_ get past the defensive line, Ivanova (rumored to have just signed with the San Francisco Sea Lions) was damn near shutting down the goal.

Which was something that Renee _wasn’t_ doing. By the end of the second quarter, there was a seven point gap in the score, and Andrew knew he couldn’t shut down the goal, not entirely. He’d actually worked to improve things since October (shortened practices aside), but Neil had been training twice as hard.

Still, at least he made the bastard work hard for the two points he scored in the second half of the game, while Patel and Tollis each got one. With Kevin scoring three points and Yee one (with Curtis’ assist) and Curtis another, they still lost, but it wasn’t as bad as it could have been.

That time, Neil was in the post-game line-up, though when Andrew noticed the hesitant way he held out his hand to Kevin, he knocked his elbow into his friend’s side to get Kevin to move on. “I’m catching up to you,” he taunted as he held onto Neil’s hand while Kevin told Patel that she was turning into a pretty decent striker (she appeared two seconds way from calling _him_ a monkey-fucker).

“It’ll never happen,” Neil shot back with a smile. “You’re too lazy.” His expression widened. “Though wow, something worse than all the black.” He motioned to Andrew’s uniform.

“Never find the body,” Andrew warned, then fell quiet when Neil’s smile slipped.

“ _We’ll be by the lounge right after we change out – we need to talk to your captain_ ,” he said in French.

“ _We?_ ” However, Patel reached out her hand then in a pointed ‘hint’ for him to move on, so he gave Neil and then her a cool look before he shuffled along the line.

He caught up to Renee as the team – minus Kevin and Wilds, who had been picked for the post-game interview – headed for the locker room. “We’re going to have birdies stopping by.” When she smiled at him, he shook his head. “They want to speak to our fair captain for some reason.”

“Hmm.” She pushed back a lock of hair which had slipped free as she considered that, while Reynolds gave Andrew a warning look as if he was about to cause trouble. “Somehow I doubt it’s about them wanting us to take another player off of their hands.”

“Maybe they want Jack? I say we give him to them,” Reynolds muttered, only to arch an eyebrow when Renee shot her a hurt look. “What? He’d probably love it, being on the same team that his darling Kevin Day used to play for.”

Renee just eyed her for a few seconds, leaving Andrew to wonder if she was debating what new relationship book to buy next.

Aaron and Nicky were busy removing their gear in the locker room while talking about their plans for Eden’s the next night. Aaron paused after removing his shoulder pads to give Andrew a fake smile. “How does it feel to have a boyfriend who can kick your ass out on court?”

“Wait, what was that?” Matheson shouted from the next row of lockers. “ _Boyfriend_?”

Someone was obviously still in a snit from earlier. “How does it feel to have a girlfriend who has bigger balls than you?” Andrew might not be able to stand the girl, but he had to admit that she had more of a spine than first suspected.

"What?" Aaron looked as if he'd been smacked right then. "Did you... did you say something _nice_ about her?"

"Wait a minute!" Matheson continued. "There's another fa-" He yelped when Andrew threw his helmet and Aaron his knee pad at him.

"Shut up," Aaron snarled at the rookie while Hayes backed away with a closed expression on his face, his hands held up to show that he wasn't involved in the matter and Boyd came over to glare at Matheson. "I don't want to hear you say that anymore."

"But-!"

"Do you want to spend another Saturday puking from running a marathon?" Boyd warned. "Because I'll be all too happy to tell Coach about this."

"But him and... and Josten?" Matheson spat in evident disgust. "No wonder the Ravens kicked our ass! He's letting his boyfriend score!"

"No, they won because you hog the ball like the little bitch you are," Nicky shouted from behind Andrew.

"Oh, and the other fag joins- hey!"

"Shower, now," Boyd insisted as he shoved a struggling Matheson toward them; the freshman striker tried to resist, but Boyd had several inches and over twenty pounds on him.

"Maybe we should wash his mouth out with soap?" Yee offered as he followed his roommate as if to lend a hand, which prompted even more yelling from the homophobic asshole.

Aaron gave Nicky a sour look, which Nicky shrugged off. "What? I spoke the truth."

"You're a pain in the ass," Aaron muttered as he finished undressing.

A leer came over Nicky's face at that. "No I'm not, I got skills and make it feel sooo goood." He laughed when Aaron grimaced in distaste then ran away to the showers before Andrew could throw anything at him for being a pervert.

"I hate this team," Aaron stated as he followed at a slower pace.

Wymack was waiting for them once everyone had showered, including Wilds and Kevin, and after smacking Matheson down for complaining about another 'traitor' on the team (the whole 'marathon' threat worked much better after forcing a couple of Foxes to actually do it), went into his 'good game despite losing' spiel which was thankfully interrupted by someone knocking on the door leading out to the hallway.

Gee, who could that be? A wayward Muse coming to steal Wymack's vocal chords for his blatant abuse of the spoken language? Oh, if _only_.

Instead, it was a wary little bird accompanied by a big guard dog and an oily snake, along with a former Raven turned Puma and now... now a Raven once more?

Neil gave Andrew the slightest of headshakes as he entered the room, which wasn't helpful, but Bren appeared relaxed as he trailed behind the little bird as ever the faithful shadow - watchful, but relaxed. Andrew still didn't like the man too much since he was a leash on Neil, but he knew that Bren did care for his friend.

Masato Ishii? Now that was another matter, as the man reported to Ichirou, so that meant this was business of some kind. The only unknown element was Hiroshi Noguchi.

"Josten, it's good to see you again," Wymack called out as the four men entered the lounge. "Is this everyone?" He looked at the door as if expecting someone else to come - probably Moreau or Patel, since Neil was rarely seen without one of his partners. It probably wasn't a good thing that he was here without his partners.

Neil must have picked up on that because he gave another headshake, that one more firm. "No, Jean's handling the press and Marley's making sure the team gets ready to leave. This is everyone."

"Okay." Wymack gave the Foxes a pointed look. "So, good game tonight, don't do anything stupid this weekend, now get your asses out of here."

"I actually think that's one of your best speeches yet, Coach." Boyd yelped when Wymack reached over to smack him on the back of the head. "Aw come on!"

"Get going." Wymack glared until the freshmen shuffled their feet to leave with clear reluctance, Renee and Reynolds left after waving to Wilds - who Boyd gave the keys to his truck (along with a kiss) and left with the upperclassmen - and Curtis hugged Neil before taking off with Yee. When Ishii gave Andrew and his fellow 'monsters' a blank look, Andrew made a point to sit down on the couch.

Noguchi chuckled at that while Wymack sighed. "I see you live up to your reputation, Andrew Minyard. Tonight was one of your better games, which still isn't saying much." The reproach was clear in his voice, which Andrew ignored. What he didn't ignore was the man taking a couple of steps toward Kevin, who gazed back at him with interest. "I'm pleased to see that you're doing well, Kevin. It was like watching one of your earlier games."

"Thank you," Kevin said, a bit flustered from the praise. "I, ah, I've been working hard."

"Yes, it's plain to see. I commend you and your coach." He nodded to Wymack.

"I take it from this little visit that you're going to be the Ravens' new coach?" Wymack asked while Wilds watched everything with interest and Aaron and Nicky stood out of the way, Nicky's attention on Neil who was quiet and sandwiched between Bren and Ishii. Andrew wanted to grab onto his friend's arm and tug him onto the couch, but knew that wouldn't be a good idea, not with the snake right there.

"Yes." Noguchi gave him a thin smile while Ishii stared down Wymack. "An official announcement will be made shortly, so I'd appreciate it if nothing is said until then."

"Of course," Wymack agreed. "I have to say, I think Tetsuji made the right choice, you've done good work with the Pumas."

"Thank you." Noguchi inclined his head at the acknowledgement.

"Yeah, good job, congrats, all of that. Why are you here?" Wilds asked as she stood there with her fists on her hips and a fake smile on her lips. "Does this have something to do with Kevin or Meg?"

Neil smiled at that, his first genuine expression since he'd entered the room, and Bren bit into his bottom lip as if to stifle a laugh. Ishii's expression became even more blank while Noguchi's smile took on a little more warmth and Wymack beamed with pride - for his part, Kevin appeared embarrassed.

"Actually, I'm here because of you, Miss Wilds," Noguchi said, which startled just about everyone in the room.

"Wait, what?" Wilds looked as if she didn't believe the statement and folded her arms across her chest, blocking the Foxes' logo on her sweatshirt. "But... why? It’s too late to recruit me even if I was good enough to play for your team."

That earned her a snort of derision from Kevin, which made Wymack glare at the striker. "No, not I'm not here to recruit you as a player, but as an assistant coach." Now Wilds was outright gaping at him. "My understanding is that you're looking for a coaching position once you graduate, yes? Well, I'd like for you to come to Edgar Allan and apply for a position there."

Now Wilds was staring at him as he was insane. “You want _me_ at Edgar Allan.” Then her dark eyes narrowed. “What’s the catch?”

A very good question.

Noguchi’s left eyebrow raised at that while Ishii appeared interested for the first time since he’d entered the room, and Andrew thought that Kevin was a few seconds away from hyperventilating. “Why do you assume that there’s a catch, Miss Wilds?”

“Because I don’t have any coaching experience, you’re asking me to apply for a job people a lot better qualified would easily maim for,” Kevin and Nicky twitched at that while Wymack winced, “and I’m assuming that there’s a reason this other guy’s here.” She jerked her right thumb at Ishii.

“You’re correct,” Ishii said with a slight incline of his head. “I don’t pretend to be an expert about Exy, but numerous people have commented on the admirable job you’ve done as the captain of the Foxes, which offsets your inexperience. Another reason you’re being considered for the job – this is just an interview, Miss Wilds – is that you’re aware of some rather… sensitive information on how things operate at Castle Evermore which would make for a much smoother transition on your part there than someone else’s.”

“You mean I know about the Moriyamas,” Wilds spat while Wymack glared at the guy. “There’s no way in _hell_ I’m gonna-“

“It’s not like that,” Neil said, speaking up for the first time since he’d entered the lounge. “Tetsuji’s leaving and Coach Noguchi is changing things with Ichirou Moriyama’s permission.” He gazed at her from his spot against the wall, sandwiched between a Moriyama lackey and Hatford muscle, and talked about ‘change’. “Yes, Evermore is and always will be Moriyama property and it’s important that the fact is respected, but Ichirou,” Andrew hated hearing the man’s name on Neil’s lips, hated that ever so slight pause as if his little bird had to catch himself from adding a ‘lord’ in front of it, “recognizes that the Ravens do best when they’re treated with respect as the valued players they are.”

Wymack grunted at that as he continued to give Ishii a dirty look. “How can any Moriyama be trusted?”

While Ishii appeared to take affront at that, Neil shrugged. “Trust him or don’t, but it comes down to the bottom line.” He motioned to Kevin before crossing his arms over his chest. “He doesn’t want to see his best players driven away or worse, there’s no profit in it and it only attracts negative attention.”

Kevin started at being used as an example, and then gave a slight nod. “It makes sense.”

“There’s also the fact that I’m not going to take over the Ravens only to have them fail,” Noguchi insisted. “As Neil said, I can’t do that if I lose or abuse my players.” He let out a slow breath as he rubbed at his left thigh, above his injured knee, as his expression grew guarded. “I won’t lie, Tetsuji was an incredibly hard taskmaster when I was a Raven. I thought his methods were valid when it won us championships, but not when I was out there in the pros and definitely not when I began coaching. I believe part of the reason I’m being handed the Ravens is that I can understand their mentality yet move them forward onto a new one.”

He gave Wilds a slight nod. “You understand the challenge of dealing with difficult players. It’s not just because of your familiarity with… certain things that I want you to interview, but because of that, too. Megan Curtis has thrived as a Fox. I believe you might help some other Ravens, too.”

Wilds gazed back at him for several seconds before her expression softened. “I….” She glanced over at Wymack, who gave her a proud grin. “Okay, I’m interested.” A weak laugh escaped from her as she ran her right hand over her short hair. “Uhm, do you need my email or phone or something-“

“We’ll send along the interview packet,” Ishii told her, which wasn’t ominous at all, them having that information on hand. “Again, it would be appreciated if you kept the request for an interview to yourself, as we’re trying to avoid speculation on the pool of candidates.”

“Sure,” Wilds agreed, her hands twitching as if she fought not to fidget.

“Then we thank you for your time.” He gave a curt bow, little more than a dip of his head, and went for the door. Noguchi was a bit more polite and wished them a good night, while Neil remained by the wall for a few seconds and gave Andrew a small smile before Bren urged him onward.

As soon as they were gone, Wilds’ shoulders slumped and she scrubbed her hands over her face. “Oh my god, tell me that didn’t happen! I mean… the _Ravens_?”

“The whole Moriyama thing aside, you’re a good candidate,” Wymack assured her as he went over to give her a one-armed hug. “Look at how well you’ve led this team, at how you’ve helped these rejects come so far.”

“Thanks, Coach,” Nicky complained, but he smiled in reassurance at Wilds all the same.

“You know it’s the truth,” Wymack argued as he grinned. “And it _is_ the Ravens, which means there’ll be other assistant coaches, too, probably. You won’t be doing it alone.”

“Te-Tetsuji always had at least two,” Kevin said as he gave her a stern look. “You have to go try for the position, it’s the best Class I team out there!”

“But it’s the Ravens,” Wilds argued. “I want to coach the Foxes!”

“And I’m not ready to retire just yet,” Wymack shot back, which distracted Wilds and put an end to the burgeoning fight. “I know your plans, Dan, and when the time comes I want you to take over this team.” He gave her shoulders another squeeze then let go. “But this is a great opportunity, much better than any of the other teams you’ve sent out resumes to so far, and if you spend a few years at Edgar Allan? No one will accuse me of favoritism when I hire you on, _no one_.”

Wilds thought it over then nodded. “I still have to ace the interview.”

That statement earned a derisive scoff from Wymack. “You’ll do fine, kiddo. Besides, they came to _you_ , don’t forget that.”

She seemed in a better mood after that, so Andrew motioned for his little group to get going while Wilds and Wymack started talking about the future interview. “Wow, Dan a Raven? Sorta? That blows the mind,” Nicky commented when they reached the parking lot – a parking lot empty of large black and red buses, which meant that Neil had already left to return to Edgar Allan.

“She _is_ a good captain,” Kevin said, the rare praise making even Aaron stare at him. “I can see Noguchi’s point about needing her if he’s serious about changing the program.” He clenched his left hand into a fist and drew in a deep breath as they neared the GS. “The- Tetsuji was very demanding the last year or two I was there, and with Riko… the Ravens could use someone like Dan.”

They could use someone who knew how to deal with fucked-up players, in other words. All Andrew cared about was that Noguchi better not be lying in that he wanted to change how things were in the Nest, and if Wilds was there… well, Andrew might not always see things eye to eye with his dear captain, but he knew she wouldn’t accept her boss caning the shit out of players because they missed a goal, let alone the rest of what had happened beneath Evermore.

It meant that Neil should be safe – except for Ichirou.

One thing at a time.

They drove out to Columbia, where they stopped at Sweeties’ for something to eat and cracker dust, then off to Eden’s. Roland commiserated with Nicky on their loss and gave Andrew a friendly smile, but seemed to accept without any hard feelings that the ‘thing’ (not really) between them was over.

Perhaps it was foolish, turning his back on no-strings attached sex because he was fixated on someone out of reach, but if Andrew was going to fantasize about Neil while jerking off, he might as well do it in the privacy of his own bedroom or bathroom. He might change his mind in a few more months, in which case he wouldn’t hold it against Roland if the bartender had moved on, but he wasn’t _that_ much of an asshole to keep meeting up with Roland while he imagined someone else.

Bee would probably have some stupid platitude or pleased comment about the situation, which was why Andrew wasn’t telling her about it at all.

He sat at the table, the alcohol and dust a pleasant haze in his veins, and texted back and forth with Neil. Now that the ‘secret’ was out, Neil could talk about Wilds and the job offer, about how she was favored for it but it would depend on how she conducted herself during the interview in the end, if she appeared flexible enough to accept that Ichirou still reigned up in the East Tower even though he had no interest in continuing the cycle of broken birds (all of that carefully phrased, of course).

Andrew suspected that what a certain lord wanted was to be able to go about his business with the university being with none the wiser, and with his property firmly under thumb.

He let Neil get some rest after a couple of hours, then had to put up with Kevin rambling about the possible changes that Noguchi and Wilds could bring to the Ravens, about how it might make them even more difficult to beat in the upcoming seasons. The addict appeared to have moved on from his ‘how can Tetsuji retire’ mindset at last, always able to focus on his senseless stickball sport in the end.

Andrew rounded up his motley little crew at closing time and got them home safely, despite the urge to throttle Nicky when his cousin went off on a drunken ramble about how pretty Neil was and how hot his tall friend was, did Andrew have his number? Erik wouldn’t mind Nicky getting a little taste of that hunk of- ow, _stop it_ , Aaron….

Some nights there wasn’t enough alcohol and cracker dust on hand.

Andrew had to wait until Saturday evening for Neil’s call because of the game, but Neil sounded to be in good spirits. They talked a bit more about Wilds and Noguchi (the press conference to announce him accepting the position would be on Wednesday), the night before the Ravens played the UT Longhorns.

“It’ll be like déjà vu, kicking the ass of some pathetic losers running around in orange and white,” Neil mused. “Except none of them will be as short as you and your brother.”

“Or cry as much as his cousin when I knock them down!” Patel shouted in the background.

Andrew blew out a harsh breath of smoke. “What, no dumb joke from Frenchie?”

“I am lost in a fugue of disgust as I think about your team’s wretched offense,” Moreau called out.

“Go fuck yourselves,” Andrew told them before he hung up, Neil’s and Patel’s laughter ringing in his ear as he lowered the phone.

Renee brought up Wilds’ interview after their practice session the next day. “So does she have a chance at the job?”

“Not if she’s telling everyone about it,” Andrew said between sips of water.

She gave him an annoyed look then sighed. “ _We_ know not to say anything, but there was no way Allison was going to let it rest, not when it involved the Ravens, and I must admit that I was somewhat concerned for Neil. So, does she?”

Andrew considered the question for a moment then nodded. “Tell her to keep that righteous indignation you upperclassmen do so well under control in regards to anything Moriyama related. Neil says that it’s not a trick as far as he can tell, Ichirou really is trying to clean house and it’ll be much better for the team if Wilds accepts the position than someone else.”

“Someone who might believe in Tetsuji’s method of coaching, in other words.” There was a flare of that wonderful darkness inside of Renee for a moment. “Dan won’t stand for that, not after what happened to Meg and Kevin. She won’t condone any abuse, she doesn’t care how popular the team is or if they’re supported by a yakuza family.”

“She can’t protect them if she’s not there,” Andrew pointed out.

“You mean she can’t protect _Neil_.” Renee gave him a cool look before she smiled. “It works out nicely, doesn’t it? You have a means of watching over him, Dan gains the experience she needs so she can take over the Foxes, and there’s something fitting in a Fox going to Edgar Allan considering that we’ve taken in two of their own.”

“I only care about the first,” Andrew admitted. It was better now, Neil being able to call more often, in not having to use a burner phone which he had to hide, but Andrew wasn’t fooled into thinking that Ichirou or Ishii couldn’t put a stop to the calls at any moment. No, that was why he needed Wilds in the Nest, needed someone he (mostly) trusted who would see Neil every day and could watch over his little bird if not outright intervene if Neil needed help.

Someone who could do what he couldn’t do just yet.

“All right.” Renee nodded once, then winced since Andrew had managed to slam her rather hard into the wall towards the end of their fight. “Dan and Allison are going to Atlanta next Saturday so Allison can make sure she’s properly dressed and everything for an interview.” She smiled at that as she played with the bottle in her hands. “Dan argued for a good half an hour about it, but Ally wore her down in the end and told her it’s an early graduation present.”

"Wonderful, she'll look great while she keeps her opinion to herself, yes?"

Renee sighed as she raised the bottle to her lips. "I should have hit your harder, that last time."

Probably.

Andrew left her down there when Curtis showed up for her session with the 'good' Christian girl, and got some homework in before Kevin dragged him off to court, anxious about scoring enough points against the Lobos that Thursday.

Wymack, Dan and Kevin were looking at recruits for next season, were trying to find players who could fit in with the existing Foxes (the biggest challenge) without causing all of the friction that was holding the team back this year. The pool was bigger this time around, considering that they'd made it to the semi-finals the year before and had managed their third showing in the top four of their district in a row, that they still had Kevin on the team for another season and recruiters appearing at their games (even if none of this year's graduating upperclassmen were planning on going to the pros). They were intent on smoothing out the issues which were going to hold the Foxes back from advancing too far this championship season - if they made it to the semi-final round, it would be a minor miracle.

Andrew didn't believe in miracles.

Still, Kevin was determined to make it past the death matches, to prove that the Foxes still had the potential, they just needed to work on a few things. Next season the Trojans would be dealing with a new captain and without some of their best players as Knox, Alvarez and Dermott graduated, and the Ravens would be losing some top-ranked players, too. It should make things a little easier.

A little.

Neil was quiet during the week, aside from a couple of texts, and Andrew was surprised to see one from Patel on his phone on Wednesday - 'LB dealing w/ TL after press conference, treat him right this w/end or else', followed by some inventive emojis.

It took him about a minute to puzzle out that 'TL' stood for 'the lord', and he spent the half an hour when Kevin sat in front of the television watching Noguchi and a grim-faced Tetsuji and Edgar Allan's oblivious president going on about 'passing on the tradition' and 'great honor' and all of that shit steadily drinking shots of whiskey until Nicky gave one look at him and offered to drive them to court that night.

His cousin remained there while Kevin suited up and went out to throw balls at cones, a fidgety mess while Andrew stretched out on the bench. "Uhm, so-"

"No," Andrew told him, in no mood for Nicky trying to make things 'better'. That wasn't going to happen any time soon, not unless someone revisited his stance on how far he was willing to go to help out.

"Yeah... it was worth a shot," Nicky sighed. "So what do you do here while he does his 'I must be the very best' thing?" Nicky sighed again when Andrew didn't say anything. "Really? No wonder you're so grouchy all of the time."

"Shut up," Andrew told the pest.

"You gotta work on that personality, how is Neil gonna want-" Nicky gulped when Andrew sat up despite the headache it gave him. "Okay!" He took to mumbling in Spanish beneath his breath, but at least he was mostly quiet after that.

After about half an hour or so, Andrew's head felt clearer so he got up and fetched a sports drink, and came back to find Nicky talking beneath his breath while playing on his phone. "Hey."

Nicky went still as if afraid to draw attention to himself and, when Andrew didn't do anything else, gave him a nervous smile. "Yeah?"

"Go up there and do that thing where you make fun of Kevin," Andrew told his cousin while he motioned toward the Plexiglas divider as he pulled out his phone.

"Eh?" Nicky was confused for a couple of seconds until Andrew held up his phone, the video feature ready to start recording. "Oh! You gonna post it online."

"No."

Nicky frowned at that but got up anyway, then smiled as he neared the divider. "You gonna send it to your bae?"

"Call him that again and they'll never find your body," Andrew told him in all seriousness.

"Okay, okay!" Nicky chuckled a little, the sound strained, then cleared his throat before he nodded to Andrew. Right after Andrew pressed 'record', he started in on Kevin.

It was a good thing that Kevin was focused on his stupid stickball game and wearing a helmet, because Nicky didn't pull any punches for the next couple of minutes. There were cracks about Kevin's 'abnormal' attachments to racquets, about how Nicky could think of a potential new career or two for him with the way he was beating those poor balls, so on and so forth. He kept going on even after Andrew stopped recording and sent off the file to Neil, something that would hopefully amuse his friend a little after what had to be a long day.

After putting up with Ichirou.

There was a response from Neil after they returned to the dorm, Nicky still chortling every time he looked at a confused Kevin - just a smiley face, but it was enough. There was also another text from Patel, a 'not bad, SMF', which Andrew deleted before throwing his phone aside for the night.

It was back to the airport the next day, but not before Andrew checked his phone and found that Neil had sent him several files - all pictures of a young, gangly Kevin with acne and a horrible crew cut (and what looked to be Riko deliberately cropped out of the picture). Rare amusement bubbled up inside of him as he flipped through all four of them, one of them even featuring a solemn-looking Moreau (just as young, but clear-faced and attractive even then), well aware that Kevin would be aghast at them being in his possession.

He waited until they were at the airport, right when Kevin was on yet another of his dietary tirades over them getting 'a bunch of useless sugar and caffeine' to drink, and sent one of the pictures to Nicky. It only took a couple of minutes later when the majority of Foxes (save Renee and Matheson) were sniggering as they stared at their phones, which made Kevin stomp over to Nicky to see what was going on.

"What... how?" he demanded to know when Nicky laughed and attempted to pat him on the head, then whipped around to glare at a blank-faced Andrew. " _How_?" He stalked over to Andrew and only stopped when Andrew's eyes narrowed. "How did - Jean?"

Probably, at the least, the backliner had given them to Neil after seeing how the video last night had cheered up his partner. "I have three more, so be quiet or else," Andrew warned.

"But that's... that's blackmail!" Kevin all but screeched.

"So?"

Hmm it looked as if Kevin had inherited Wymack's high blood pressure, but he shut up after a bit of incoherent mumbling, and there was no more bitching about Andrew enjoying his precious sugar before the game with New Mexico for once.

The UNM Lobos were one of the rougher teams out there, were big and determined and all too happy to slam the Foxes around. For once White’s aggression was fine out on the court, her lips pulled back from her teeth as she glared at the assholes trying to barrel their way past her (she had more muscle mass than Curtis and Reynolds even if she didn’t look all that impressive, and from what Andrew had found in her folder the night he’d ‘accidentally’ gotten into Wymack’s office, she almost always finished the fights she started even if it got her suspended or on disciplinary action). Even Renee let a bit of the darkness out while she was in the goal when one of the Lobos ‘accidently’ ran into her.

It got the bastard red-carded _and_ a broken nose, how sad.

By the time it was Andrew’s turn in the goal, the Foxes were fired up and a good bit battered, so Wymack didn’t say a word when Andrew started lobbing the balls back with a lot of force and specific targets in mind, as long as the referees couldn’t prove that he was aiming at the Lobos’ heads and legs. Oops, it was just bad luck, one of them running into the ball like that, right? Andrew had no idea that Horter tended to go left when the buzzer sounded. No idea at all.

The Foxes won with a five point lead.

Still, for having made it past the first round, the Foxes were a bit subdued as they returned to the airport. Being exhausted and sore as hell might have something to do with it, as might the cold realization of the games only becoming more difficult from that point on finally sinking in with the freshmen (well, _some_ of the freshmen). They’d find out in another week which teams they’d face in the death match rounds, and they were done if they were stuck with any of the Big Three.

It was something to worry about when the time came. At the moment Andrew had a damn plane to catch, something which was one of his least favorite things to do, and only a couple of texts from Neil poking fun at the color orange to tide him over until the next day.

Aaron was pleased about them staying on campus that weekend (a chance to hang out with the ‘lovely’ Katelyn), while Kevin was still sulking over the whole picture thing and went off to the stadium to argue with Wymack about the next season’s recruits. That left Andrew and Nicky in the suite, which meant Nicky in the suite alone as he skyped with Erik and Andrew up on the roof to talk to Neil once the Ravens were finished with their afternoon practice.

“Out on the court again?” he asked when Neil answered the phone and he didn’t hear the familiar (annoying) background noise.

“Ah, no, not quite. I’m somewhere a bit… higher up than that.”

Andrew frowned. “Save the riddles and tell me.” He better not be in New York City.

Neil sighed and there was a faint crinkling sound, as if from him moving on some sort of surface. “I’m up in the West Tower. I asked Ichirou if I could come up here for a bit of privacy and he gave Bren the access codes.”

Andrew’s hands clenched upon hearing mention of the Moriyama prick “’Bren’, not you.”

“It’s the same thing,” Neil argued. “I don’t go anywhere without him.”

“You’re not _allowed_ to go anywhere without him.” There was a huge difference between the two.

“Andrew… I don’t-“

Dammit, he wasn’t supposed to do this, wasn’t supposed to tear into Neil for something his friend couldn’t control, especially after the last couple of days. “We won last night,” Andrew said before Neil could plead with him for anything. “Those Lobos weren’t so bad.”

“Yeah.” Neil chuckled a little, and when he spoke next he sounded more certain, more lively. “Says the guy who was nice and safe in his box and heavy padding.”

“Says the guy who mocks the person who eats something other than steamed rice and fish,” Andrew shot back, well aware of the Ravens’ strict diet thanks to Kevin and Curtis. “Try some real food for once and to not run around all damn day, and maybe you won’t get knocked on your ass so much.”

“They can’t knock me down if they don’t catch me, and Meg said that Nicky’s told her how you can eat nothing but ice cream all day. _Ice cream_.” Neil sounded incredulous. “Are you like the reverse of lactose intolerant or something? You can only have dairy products? I’d ask if you’re part cow or something, but they’re actually big, aren’t they?”

“Oh, how amusing, a size joke from someone who probably gets mistaken for a kid everywhere he goes. How does anyone buy that fake ID of yours stating that you’re nineteen years old?”

Neil was so quiet that Andrew was left to wonder what he’d said that had been so wrong. “Heh, I am nineteen,” Neil admitted after a couple of seconds. “I just turned it, in fact. My real birthday was the other night. Stuart even gave me a gift.”

That… hadn’t been one of their exchanged truths. “Nathaniel’s birthday,” Andrew said. “You said _yours_ is March 31 st.”

“Yeah, _Nathaniel_ was born on January 19 th.” Neil laughed again, the melancholy back in his voice. “I’ve had so many, you know. Twenty-two different ones for each name on the run, not counting this one. My mom made sure we had a new backstory each time, and that we knew them inside and out in case anyone asked questions. I guess… well, not many people now know the real date. Ichirou, Stuart and the other Hatfords, Bren, Jean, Kevin if he still remembers… and you.” He gave another slight laugh. “The FBI if they still think I’m alive.”

Neil hadn’t even told poetic Patel. “I’ll have to get something for you,” Andrew decided; he could send it along with Wilds, just pass it along as a joke. He even knew the perfect thing, too. Make that perfect things. “Perhaps an ‘I’m a big boy’ shirt.”

“Gee, thanks.” There was just a tiny amount of sarcasm then. “And how many people mistake you for a miserable little gremlin, hmm?”

“I thought I was a gargoyle.”

“Eh, same difference.”

“No, it isn’t,” Andrew argued. “They’re two different things, you idiot.”

“Only a _goth_ like you would care,” Neil shot back.

Hence Neil’s schooling on fantasy creatures (playing games and reading fantasy novels did come in handy, it seemed, and did wonders for distracting little birds from their woes), where he was in turns wondrous and disbelieving. It seemed that Bren was a Tolkien fan, which led to a debate (via Neil) on Orcs, of all things.

“That is twenty minutes of my life I’m never getting back,” Neil complained in a quiet voice.

“Come on, Red, who doesn’t know The Hobbit? What are they teaching kids these days?”

“What indeed.” The sarcasm was back, but Neil chuckled a moment later. “All right, I need to go figure out who to dump a lump of green mush on tonight.”

“Ever the wild parties at the Nest, huh?” Andrew asked as he lit a cigarette.

“You’ve no idea. Tomorrow, Marley’s inflicting some ‘Incredible’ movie on me. It’s a never-ending bacchanal here.”

“It certainly sounds like it.”

They agreed to talk again on Sunday, and Andrew remained on the roof until he finished his cigarette. Then he went out on campus to the university store, someplace he’d rarely visited in his almost three years at PSU, and got there right before it closed for the evening. It only took him a few minutes to find what he wanted, and he gave a bland stare back in return at the curious ones he received for his purchases.

He and Nicky ordered pizza when he returned to the room and played a game together; Nicky was oddly excited about the whole thing and kept his mouth mostly shut, other than to ask how Neil was doing (without any innuendo for once) and to cheer whenever he scored any points.

It… wasn’t a bad night.

On Tuesday, Wilds, dressed in an expensive as hell pantsuit and carrying a large gift bag (she’d arched a freshly waxed eyebrow at it but wisely hadn’t said anything other than she’d deliver it to Neil), took off with Boyd to the airport for her interview at Edgar Allan. As far as about half the team knew, she was off for an interview at one of the Class II division teams who’d extended an offer to a new graduate and so didn’t think anything of it, other than to wish her luck (if that).

The picture came through when Andrew was with Bee; he didn’t normally answer his phone during their sessions, but he was expecting something from Neil or Wilds so he pulled it from his pocket to check. There was a text from Patel, not such a rare thing anymore, along with the image of an unimpressed Neil wearing an oversized Foxes’ sweatshirt bearing Andrew’s number while holding a large, bright orange and white fox plushie with a smirking Moreau stood next to him.

‘Think you win this round, SMF’

Bee looked on in interest. “Is it from Dan? How is the interview going?”

Andrew shrugged. “Don’t know, but she at least handed over my present to Neil.” He held up the phone so she could see the picture.

Bee laughed at it and shook her head. “Don’t you think that’s a little obvious?”

“How so?” Andrew saved the image to his phone then put it away. “It’s just a little inter-team rivalry.” Just one big joke, especially when one considered how much Neil liked to make fun of the Foxes and Andrew in particular.

“If you say so.” Bee gave him a knowing grin for a moment before her expression smoothed out. “Now, I have a new exercise I want you to try when you feel overwhelmed by things, when you think your control is slipping away. Is that all right?”

He pushed all thoughts of Neil out of his mind as he nodded so he could concentrate on Bee and what he needed to do to move forward.

*******

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *******  
> Head cannon time? Yeah, Renee reads those self-help books. She started doing it in prison (along with the Bible), as a way to improve herself. She doesn't buy into everything and she's very discerning about which one she reads (and recommends), but she started it as a way to figure some things out/get a little 'help', considering her past and family life and everything. 
> 
> So, Dan at the Nest. Hmm, that should be fun? Hopefully everyone can understand the logic behind it.
> 
> Was there anything else I meant to comment on? It seems there was something I wanted to say about the last chapter... what was it?
> 
> Ahh, I've a prompt or two that I'll be posting during the week! I've actually one finished already and I plan on getting at least another done today.  
> [nekojitachan](http://nekojitachan.tumblr.com) and [writing stuff](http://nekojitachan.tumblr.com/tagged/nekojitachanfics))
> 
> As always, thank you so much for the comments and kudos! (I think I'm behind on the ones for NS2? Bad me!)


	19. Never Giving Up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *******  
> Ah... hopefully there's not too many errors in this chapter.  
> Okay - championship season! Neil and Jean spend the winter break in NYC with Ichirou (and Bren and Janna and Stuart), doing a lot of marketing campaigns and a little siteseeing stuff. Ichirou finds out that Neil is talking to Andrew again and isn't too pleased but doesn't do anything then.  
> Jean calls Andrew to both warn him about Ichirou and to let him know that Neil's under stress about things (Ichirou, the Ravens needing to win, his future) so Andrew better not mess up with Neil again.  
> New coaches start interviewing to take over for Tetsuji, and Neil doesn't react well to at least one of them (Andrew has to talk him down). Noguchi is selected and begins to work at the Nest to transition as the head coach, and things seem to get better for the Ravens. Neil and Andrew continue to talk, and Andrew does what he can to help Neil with all of the stress he's under due to the new coach, Ichirou and the Ravens needing to win that year (to prove that they're just as good without Riko).  
> The Ravens and Foxes face off at PSU, but the Foxes lose that match (they're still struggling with the freshmen). A surprise is that Noguchi offers Dan a position as an assistant coach - both for her skill in handling difficult players and that she knows the truth about the Moriyamas/the background at Evermore. She's reluctant to accept the position at first, but Wymack convinces her that it'll give her the necessary skill she needs to take over for him one day.  
> When she goes for an interview, Andrew sends her with a little 'gift' for Neil - a PSU Foxes' sweatshirt bearing his name and number, and a Foxes plushie. Marley sends him a picture of Neil wearing the sweatshirt.  
> *******
> 
> Ah... here we go. I think the only warnings are for vague references to past events.  
> *******

*******

It was the beginning of February when Neil received a text that Ichirou wanted to have dinner with him that night, so he took a change of clothes into the locker room in order to leave right after practice. Since Noguchi was already stepping in for Tetsuji, was out on court to learn how the Ravens functioned and their plays, the sessions were grueling but in an entirely different way than before – their ‘Master’s’ cane only hit the floor to focus their attention, but Noguchi was quick to _verbally_ point out any areas he felt needed improvement.

Jean and Neil had a lot of work to do as captain and vice-captain, especially with some of their best players having received offers from the pro teams in light of their pending graduations. Jean talked to Jeremy Knox (who would be moving on to the San Francisco Sea Lions) at least twice a week anymore, grateful for the Trojan’s advice as he struggled to ‘improve’ his skills as a captain, while Neil worked the freshmen harder, so they’d be more than ready to step into the gaps on the line-up next year.

He didn’t want to think about how in little more than a year, _he’d_ be taking over as the team’s captain.

Added to the stress of the transition was the press crawling all over the Nest, the press and the university’s board of directors, eager to watch Tetsuji Moriyama, the (co-)creator of Exy hand over the reins of the best team in the NCAA Class I Division to his ‘chosen’ successor as if it was a historic moment. Neil could pick up on Noguchi’s annoyance at the interruptions, but the man allowed it to a point, all bland smiles until he declared that the Ravens needed to be able to concentrate on their training if they wanted to win.

Noguchi _seemed_ to have the best interests of the team in mind, to care about the players just as much as he did winning. Neil would reserve judgement until Tetsuji was gone, along with the press, and Noguchi had complete control of the situation. Until he was free to reveal his true colors. If he was another ‘Master’… then Neil would see how much he had left to barter with either Ichirou or his uncle.

Now, however, he was still paying off his current debt, which had him back at the mansion and seated at the small dining table with Ichirou. Even though he hadn’t eaten since lunch and there wasn’t any kale in sight, Neil didn’t feel all that hungry. Still, he forced himself to smile and pretend he was happy with the arrangement (it wasn’t quite lying).

“ _Tomorrow the ERC will release the schedule for the next part of the season_ ,” Ichirou told him in Japanese while he stirred his soup, some sort of crab bisque.

“ _Ah, and do you happen to know something_?” Neil set his spoon aside and smirked. “ _Insider information, perhaps_?”

Ichirou smiled back. “ _You’ll be playing Ohio State and Purdue_.”

“ _What a shame, Jean will be heartbroken it’s not Notre Dame_ ,” Neil declared while he wondered which teams the Foxes would play and hoped they would be able to advance to the next stage at least; he didn’t want Andrew’s team to be knocked out of the championship season so early.

“ _Oh, does he have a fondness for the university_?”

“ _No, he’s hoping to have a devil like me exorcised at some point_ ,” Neil teased. “ _Hope springs eternal, or so they say_.”

Ichirou laughed at that and told him about some of the temples and shrines he’d visited in Japan when he’d gone there with his father. While there was always such a coolness to his demeanor when he mentioned the older Moriyama, Neil thought that his lord had enjoyed his time spent in the other country (or at least some of it) and was happy to reminisce a little. The discussion carried them through to their main course, a delicious white fish with a tart cream sauce.

“ _We’ll have to see how you fare in Kyoto one day_ ,” Ichirou remarked, to which Neil merely smiled and replied that he’d never gotten as far as Asia when he’d traveled with his mother.

“ _So, I’ve been told that Danielle Wilds has accepted the offer to work as an assistant coach_.”

Relieved at the change of topic, Neil had a slight sip of the fruity white wine supplied with the dinner. “ _Really? When will she start_?” The last Ichirou had told him was that Noguchi had been impressed with her interview and that Masato hadn’t seen anything to cause him any concern.

“ _June 1 st_.” Ichirou regarded him for a moment. “ _You don’t have any issues with her, considering her relationship with Kevin Day_?”

“ _No, why would I_?” Neil set his fork aside and folded his hands in his lap, so he could devote his attention to… well, to whatever Ichirou was getting at with that question. Did it have something to do with Andrew? “ _She’s a Fox, yes, but I thought that’s why she’s getting the job in part, because she knows to keep her mouth shut about stuff. That and Meg trusts her. She’s helped Meg a lot and even Marley a little, and she’ll be good for the rest of the girls on the team_.”

“… _I shouldn’t forget that about you_ ,” Ichirou said with a faint smile.

“ _Forget what_?” Neil really, really hated it when his conversations with Ichirou went off on tangents which he couldn’t follow.

Now Ichirou’s smile was pleased. “ _Are you enjoying your dinner_?”

“ _Uhm, yes_.” Neil picked up his fork and gave the remaining fish on his plate a slight poke, aware by then of his lord’s mercurial moods. “ _Much better than cafeteria food, thank you_.”

“ _One would hope_.”

There weren’t any more cryptic comments that night, which was good. Neil was relieved to be able to return to the Nest (an odd thought in itself) when they were ‘done’ for the night, Ichirou relaxed and sitting naked on the end of the bed as he checked his phone.

Neil hesitated only a moment before he sat up as well and inched forward to trail his fingers along the tattoo of a tengu fighting two demons which was spread along his lord’s back. “ _When did you have it done_?”

“ _When I turned twenty_ ,” Ichirou answered. He set the phone aside to capture Neil’s hand and pull him forward for a deep kiss. “ _It’ll be a home game, next Thursday_ ,” he said once it was broken off. “ _After the game, you’ll come up to the tower and assist with some translations for me – Mikhailov will be there_.”

Neil remembered the Russian from New Year’s Eve and gave a slight nod. “ _Yes, my lord_.”

“ _Do well that night, Nathaniel_ ,” Ichirou told him before giving him another kiss, his hold firm on Neil’s chin, then bade him a good night.

Neil huddled in the passenger seat of the SUV while Bren drove him back to campus, and Jean granted him ten minutes in the shower before turning off the hot water. He allowed his friends to fuss over him while he told them about the upcoming games (to help dry his hair and hand him a mug of herbal tea), and nothing was said when he pulled on the Foxes’ sweatshirt that Andrew had sent him to wear to bed.

The three of them acted surprised when Noguchi informed them about Ohio State and Purdue, Masato staring at them the entire time, and then they were busy with practice for most of the day, busy preparing for the next round even if neither of the teams were serious competition. They couldn’t risk taking things easy or anything for granted, not with so much attention on them, so much pressure on the team to perform.

Neil didn’t have a chance to call Andrew until Saturday, between the Ravens’ practice schedule and his friend’s habit of leaving campus to waste brain cells and time getting drunk. “What exactly _do_ you do in a club all of the time?” Neil asked on Saturday after morning practice. “Does it ever get boring?” He couldn’t imagine wanting to go back again and again to some place just to drink alcohol and put up with a crowd of people. “Wait, do you _dance_?” he asked, suddenly incredulous with the notion.

Andrew was quiet, save for a long exhale. “Valjean,” he called out, “did you let this idiot get hit in the head with a ball or something? Repeatedly?”

Jean grunted at the question while Marley grinned. “He’s a natural idiot,” Jean declared with the utmost disdain. “He’s _British_ , after all. The only thing worse is an American.”

“Aw come on now,” Marley said while Neil gave his partner a rude gesture. “I wanna know about the dancing. Is he a spaz or one of those guys who just sort of shuffles his feet?” Her eyes grew wide and she clapped her hands together. “ _I_ know! He’s a head banger!”

Andrew made a clicking sound with his tongue. “Did you let both of them get hit in the head, Valjean? I don’t really give a shit about Patel, except I’d like to see it happen one day.”

“Love you, too, monkey fucker,” Marley called out. “Guess _you_ don’t want to _see_ the latest picture of Neil all sleepy while wearing your sweatshirt?”

“Uhm, why would he want that?” Neil asked while Andrew was quiet on the other end of the line, which earned him one of Marley’s exasperated looks.

“I _don’t_ dance,” Andrew said with a rare hint of irritation in his deep voice. “I sit around and drink while putting up with a whining Kevin and watch my brother and cousin act like idiots out on the dance floor.”

“And where’s the fun in that?” Neil had to wonder. “Especially if you’re dealing with Day?” Though that probably explained all the drinking.

“It’s better than playing stickball all weekend.”

“Eh, we’ll agree to disagree.” Marley nodded along with that, though Jean didn’t.

 “You really have taken too many hits to the head,” Andrew drawled.

“Probably. Speaking of your beloved ‘stickball’,” Neil smiled at his friend’s scoff right then, “are you looking forward to playing with the Bears and the Bengals?”

“I should hang up on you,” Andrew stated, yet he didn’t do it. “Kevin’s rather happy because it’s not as bad as it could have been, we didn’t get stuck with a team like Penn State again which would have kicked us out right away. But another damn flight.”

“We’ll be driving to Indiana,” Neil said. “Want me to bring you back some corn?”

“… seriously, Moreau, are you making sure he wears a helmet or what?”

“I told you, he’s British,” Jean sighed. “And a devil.”

Neil should have gone up to the East Tower for the call, so he would only have to deal with one snarky bastard just then. “Okay, maybe I’m understanding the whole drinking thing right about now.”

He had to put up with listening to the various ways he drove his friends to drink (taunting people on court, being a devil and a smart-ass and a few other things he had to admit were correct, but he refused to see disliking kale as ‘bad’), and then it was time for lunch.

That night they were busy with homework and so didn’t watch any movies, intent on catching up on their assignments since the next few weeks (months, really) would be busy and the semester mid-point wasn’t too far away. Jean and Neil also had the added work of assisting Noguchi with the final roster of freshmen recruits since they knew the current players the best, which meant that it was an exhausting time all around.

Still, Neil felt some pride in the Ravens, in taking part in shaping the team. In being hopeful for the upcoming season for once.

When Thursday arrived, he was ready – at least for the game. The Ohio State Buckeyes were good, but they’d never made it past the semi-finals before (and rarely that far) and so weren’t expected to be a threat to the reigning champions.

Noguchi ‘worked’ alongside of Tetsuji for the game, a steady presence next to the ‘revered’ coach who conferred with him often and even made a couple of calls himself, who was acting as a mix of temporary assistant coach (since Akagi had never been formally replace, even though most people assumed that Masato had taken over his position) and head coach.

All Neil cared about was that the Ravens won, and with a decisive victory at that. Since he'd taken part of the pre-game interview, Avery stepped in for the post-game one along with Jean, which allowed Neil to slip away so he could head up to the East Tower as quickly as possible.

He wasn't a big fan of interviews, but he'd rather spend half the night dealing with arrogant or dismissive reporters than go up to the West Tower after a game. However, he'd long ago learned that he rarely, if ever, got to do what he wanted when it came to life.

So, he showered and dressed in a pair of dark grey slacks and a soft cashmere sweater over a thin t-shirt, then followed Bren through the Nest and up the elevator to where Ichirou was waiting. He nodded to his lord, mindful of the new bodyguards scattered among the faces familiar to him after almost two years and accepted a bottle of flavored water while Ichirou and Mikhailov talked to him about the game. He kept a slight, pleasant smile on his face and downplayed the effort he'd just put out on the court below, the rough slams and hits he'd taken from the Buckeye players in their effort to make their loss count and laughed a little when Mikhailov talked about his days of playing soccer as a youth.

He was used to pretending, to playing a role, to being whoever he needed to be for a few hours, a few days, a few weeks... it was nothing new, what he did in that room with the plush carpet and expansive view and armed guards. That time he had Bren watching his back instead of his mother, had more than one life dependent on him if he made any mistakes (he didn't). So, he kept smiling and sipping his water and translating until his head ached from it all, even more than his body from the game earlier, and he forced himself to not think about what he was hearing or talking about, the 'business' matters which made the Moriyamas so powerful.

Which made them too powerful for Neil and Jean to ever break free.

"That's a clever one," Mikhailov commented when it appeared that everything was wrapped up for the night. "Clever and... ah, fast?"

"Quick," Ichirou agreed as he shook the Russian's hand.

"Yes, quick. Quick tongue, quick feet. Good people are important. Means less work for us." He laughed at his own joke then waved at his men standing around the room. " _Do skoroy vstrechi_ , Moriyama."

"Yes, _do skoroy vstrechi_ ," Ichirou agreed with a slight nod of his head. Neil stood there while the Russians left, and wasn't surprised when Ichirou motioned for his men to follow afterward; Bren paused for a moment, his gaze intent on Neil who gave him a slight nod.

Ichirou caught that, of course, and waited to comment when he handed Neil a glass of whisky. " _He's very loyal to you._ "

Mindful of how Ichirou had winnowed out anyone he felt was loyal only to Tetsuji and was keeping a close watch on Nakamura, Neil shook his head. " _He does a good job of watching out for me because he's loyal to my uncle_." It was... mostly the truth in that Neil knew that there was only so far that Bren would turn a 'blind' eye for him. In the end, his friend did report to the Hatfords and wouldn't break faith with them. " _And my uncle is loyal to you_."

" _Yes, that appears to be the case_ ," Ichirou murmured as he gazed at Neil. " _To loyalty_ ," he said as he clinked their glasses together, and Neil didn't hesitate to repeat the phrase before he tossed back his drink.

He was exhausted - it had been a long week between classes, brushing up on his Russian, practice and the game, let alone spending the night translating. Yet he pushed himself even more, pushed aside all of that so he could focus on Ichirou, on the two of them in the small bedroom and ensuring that his lord had no reason to question Bren (why did the list seem to grow longer and longer?) or bring up Andrew or do anything to upset the precarious world for which Neil had sacrificed so much. He blanked his mind as much as he dared, some things… some things automatic by then, some things ingrained, and waited for enough time to pass.

Except that apparently it was late (something Neil knew very well, considering the Ravens’ early morning practice and the long day and the weariness weighing upon him) and Ichirou intended to stay the night in the tower – and for Neil to remain there was well. Despite that weariness, Neil lay on the bed with Ichirou’s hand on his hip and faint snore near his right ear and couldn’t sleep, not when he only wanted to be free, to get up and return to his room and wash himself clean and feel Jean at his back so he knew that it was safe to close his eyes.

That it was safe to relax, to let down his guard without something bad happening.

But he _wasn’t_ free, was he? No, he had to lay there, had to be still to not disturb Ichirou, and then plaster on a smile when his lord woke up a few hours later, fingers digging into Neil’s hip before smoothing out against his skin and pulling him over.

Bren was waiting for Neil when he stumbled into the hall a little later, a worried expression on his broad face which only grew when Neil flinched from his hands as he reached out as if to help. "Did you... were you here all night?" Neil asked, his voice little more than a haggard rasp.

"Me? No, I was told to go away at one point," Bren admitted as his hands hovered around Neil’s shoulders; it took a few seconds for Neil to realize that he was wearing a different shirt that morning. "Fuck, Red, you look... let's get you to bed, okay?"

A jagged laugh slipped free while Neil bumped into the wall as he attempted to navigate his way down the hall. "Jus'... just got out of one."

It was Bren's turn to flinch upon hearing that. "Not what I meant, _fuck_. _Your_ bed, okay? You look like you haven't slept in days."

It felt like it, too. Neil scrubbed at his face as he more or less faltered his way to the elevator. "Can't, have practice an’ class." They weren't allowed to miss classes for almost anything because of their away game schedule, and Neil was the vice-captain as well. Missing practice was impossible.

"Neil... try to tell me that you'll be doing anything other than falling sleeping if you go to either of ‘em."

Probably, but at least he'd be there.

Bren lurked near him the entire way to the dorm room, his hands out-held as if to grab at Neil while he wavered on his feet, his vision a bit blurry from the lack of sleep and just... just _everything_. Declan was standing by the room when they finally got there and opened the door for them, his expression similar to Bren's. Neil barely got inside before Jean and Marley descended upon him.

Jean regarded him for only a moment before enfolding him in a loose hug; all the tension left Neil's body at the embrace and he risked closing his eyes for a moment as he rested his head against his friend’s shoulder.

“ _You_ -“

Neil shuddered as he pulled away. “ _How long_?” he asked, his voice still hoarse for some reason.

Jean stared at him in confusion. “ _How long until when_?”

“ _Practice_.”

Marley shook her head while Bren scoffed. “No, you’re not-“

“ _Give me five minutes_ ,” Neil said as he turned, a little unsteady on his feet, toward the bathroom.

“Stubborn fool thinks he’s gonna hit balls and study today, of all things,” Bren declared.

“ _Neil, no! Get your fool of an ass into bed_!” Jean shouted while he followed him into the bathroom.

“No.” Neil didn’t bother to fully undress, other than to remove the cashmere sweater since it was the most expensive thing, that and his shoes. Everything else remained as he stepped into the shower, to slowly be peeled off as the water rained down on him (the Nest may be a special kind of hellhole, but it had an endless amount of hot water, and it never took very long for it to heat up). “ _You know why I can’t_.” He clutched at the medallion hanging from his neck as he slumped back against the slick tiles of the shower, for a moment the urge to slide down until he knelt (or lay) on the floor overwhelming. “ _It’s too important right now_.”

They had a new coach, which meant added scrutiny in addition to it being the playoff season. A new coach they needed to impress, because Neil wasn’t going to risk Jean losing his captain’s position, not with him heading to the pros next year. Not when a bad senior year for him could impact the terms of his contract.

A contract which would be dictated by Ichirou and Thomas Radcliffe, where Jean would only see a fraction of his agreed upon salary. Neil refused to let his friend suffer for years because of him.

“Neil….” Jean tried to argue.

“ _I’ll be fine_ ,” he told him with a faint smile. “ _It’s nothing worse than a short day, right? We have them all the time._ ”

Jean shook his head in disbelief. “ _Hurry up then, if you’re going to be a fool of a devil_.”

Right, they didn’t have long at all.

Neil forced himself to wash off while Jean went to fetch some clean clothes, and when he was done, Bren was there with a mug of coffee which he drank on the way to the one small kitchen. Marley complained the entire time about how he was an idiot for not going to bed, but he tuned her out with ease (the exhaustion helped).

He was sore and tired, but that wasn’t anything new when it came to practice. Noguchi went over the previous day’s game and what he felt to be the team’s weak points, Tetsuji a dark presence behind him the entire time, and surprised the team by not backing up his criticism with physical blows. Instead he made the worst offenders do drills to work on their aim or passing ability, while the rest of the team was busy with scrimmages for the morning before off to their classes.

Marley was busy keeping Neil awake in the classes they shared and helped in the others by texting him (the buzzing jolted him out of a daze several times). Neil was too tired to even fight over the damn kale for lunch, which made Jean take pity on him and eat the nasty green mush for once (he might be on to something there) and then the team worked out in the gym for a couple of hours.

Neil was too tired to do anything but text Andrew to have fun getting drunk and not dancing before a final evening practice and was asleep as soon as he lay down in bed that night. Only to get up and be back on court the next morning feeling just as tired. Saturday was another long day, especially since the freshmen were getting more time in the lineup and so needed more practice on the court. That meant Neil and Jean had to work with them as part of their duties.

It was a surprise to see Noguchi out there as well, since Tetsuji had never bothered to spend extra time coaching like that, at least not for such low-ranked Ravens. Part of Neil was encouraged by it, and part of him wanted to leave the court over the fact that there was a (nearly) middle-aged man standing so close and calling out orders in a deep voice, his face impassive and gaze intent. It put Neil even more on edge, especially with Masato nearby at all times.

By Sunday he was even more exhausted and still hadn’t talked to Andrew, other than a couple of texts.

He just wanted a good night’s sleep, wanted to be able to rest until he wasn’t tired anymore, but that wasn’t going to happen, was it? Neil could barely manage a few hours as it was, thanks to nightmares of his father not really being dead and coming to the Nest to make good on that promise to cripple him, to render him unable to run ever again. Of Riko coming back from the dead, too, and bringing along Federov and Bautista, of holding Neil’s wrists down with his cold, rotting hands while those two took turns with Neil again and _again_.

It was all Neil could do to not wake up screaming each night and disturbing his roommates, but he had experience with that from all those years of sharing a bed with his mother.

Just like he had experience waking up each day and getting out of bed and moving along, of forcing down the food put in front of him and not allowing the lethargy and aches and dizziness to hold him back. Nothing was supposed to stop him, nothing was allowed to keep him from moving forward, not when someone (several ‘someones’ now) depended on him, so he told Jean and Marley and Bren and Andrew and the others that he was fine.

He was fine.

He had a game to win, a legacy to uphold, a team to support.

That weekend it was back at the mansion, Ichirou hosting a party with various guests, the type of guests who usually came up to the West Tower during the games. Guests like Mikhailov. Neil put all of his languages to use that weekend and realized that he’d have to spend the summer break (now that he wouldn’t be stuck with sixteen-hour days anymore) getting a jump start on Chinese.

Ichirou kept him there the entire weekend.

On Monday, Marley wrapped his hands around a warm mug of tea and gave him a critical look. “You shouldn’t be going to class today, I can take notes for you.”

“I’m fine,” he mumbled against the rim of the mug.

“No, Shorty, you’re not.” She reached out her hand as if to feel his forehead and he nearly spilled the tea when he cringed from her touch, which made her expression crumble into something like remorse. “You’re _not_. What’s… you can talk to me, you know.”

“I just… I need a little space,” he told her, which was partially true; he needed her to stop fussing over him, her and Jean. He could concentrate so much better if they weren’t clinging to him, something his mother had never done. No, she’d just smacked him and yanked on his hair and shoved him forward, had made sure he’d stayed on his feet until he was past… whatever.

He missed his mother. Then guilt washed through him over how he’d let her down, how she was dead in part because of him, how she could still be alive if she hadn’t given up everything for him, and he pushed aside the exhaustion and vertigo. No, he wouldn’t mess this up, he _couldn’t_. This was all he had now.

“Neil….” Marley rubbed at her eyes then took a deep breath. “Get some rest in class, okay? I’ll take the notes, you just remain upright in the damn chair.”

“Okay.” He managed a wan smile and drank the tea on the way to their art class.

Marley pitched in to help with the freshmen, too, and between the two of them, Jordon and Ethan were ready to play more than a few minutes in the game on Thursday. Neil sent a text to Andrew wishing him ‘good luck’ against Idaho State (and to have a safe flight – he even worked up the energy to find a picture of a fox in a kennel and send it along, which earned him a gif of a fox trotting along while carrying a black bird in its mouth in return).

Neil argued that Marley deserved some ‘attention’ and that she should sit in on the pre-game interview with Jean, and for once his friends didn’t argue with him – after all, Marley had been pushing for it all season, and she’d slowly been racking up the stats with goals and assists. The one article likening her to Thea Muldani had left her unbearable for days, so it would be good for her, the experience – that and Neil didn’t know if he could handle sitting there with all those faces staring at him and asking questions. He was still tired after sleeping on the bus and just wanted to save his energy for the game with the Boilermakers.

He felt dizzy and his entire body ached (which was odd, because Tetsuji and Riko hadn’t been near him, nor had anyone touched him _that_ way lately… had they?), but he focused on the game. They had to win the game. Noguchi kept looking at him, so it was vital to go out there and win the game, to prove that he could play, that he wasn’t worthless.

“ _Neil… you look flushed. Are you all right_?” Jean asked as they prepared to go out on court to warm up.

“ _I’m fine_ ,” Neil assured him.

“ _Perhaps Morinello should look at you_.”

Neil shook his head at mention of the team nurse. “ _It’s nothing, just overheated. Now let’s go_.” He didn’t wait for his partner to argue or for Marley to say anything (especially since her mother was a doctor), he grabbed his helmet and strode out on court, his gaze fixed far ahead so his steps didn’t waver.

Despite the distance from Edgar Allan, there was a fair amount of black and red amongst the black and bronze, which cast the stadium in rather dark shades from the school colors. It also meant that Neil had to truly concentrate when out on court, his vision a little blurry for some reason, on the Ravens’ away uniforms and the increased amount of red which helped to differentiate them from Purdue.

The Boilermakers were a bit better at tactics than other teams, but they had large players and weren’t above using brute force (Neil was getting rather bored with being slammed around, and it wasn’t helping with his growing vertigo) to take out the Ravens’ starting line. One of the backliners nailed him hard enough against the wall to earn a red card, and Noguchi pulled him from the rest of the second quarter despite Neil’s protests. As much as Neil hated sitting out for so long, it gave him a chance to catch his breath while Karl and Toby kicked Boilermaker ass.

Having caught his second wind (and repeated to Jean and Marley that he was ‘fine’), Neil was back out on court for the third quarter. He’d just fired off what was to be his fourth goal of the game when Smith, the Boilermaker’s captain and a backliner about twice the width of Jean, came barreling into him; if he wasn’t so tired, maybe he could have dodged what was a blatant tackle, but the ball was out of his racquet and he should have been fine.

 _Should have been_.

The next thing he knew, there was a weight pinning him to the floor and he started flailing, started lashing out as words spilled forth from his mouth, but someone grabbed his arms and was speaking to him as the weight was _finally_ yanked away – it took a moment to realize that it was in French at first, French and Japanese.

“ _Relax Neil, it’s okay, it’s okay! Let go of the racquet_!”

“ _It’s all right, it’s okay, he’s gone now. Calm down, it’s all right_.”

Jean. Jean and Marley. Neil struggled to breathe as he was lifted to a sitting position, his friends holding on to his arms until he let go of his racquet and hunched over to make himself a smaller target. After a slight nod, Jean removed his helmet, and then Morinello was in Neil’s space, which made him panic again, his vision blurring as his breath caught in his throat.

Yet Jean was there the entire time, his hand steady as it stroked over Neil’s sweat-slick hair, his voice deep and quiet as it murmured to him in French that he was safe, and the nurse was quick as she checked Neil’s pupils first then the rest of him, her brows drawing together when he gave a slight hiss when she flexed his left ankle.

“He has a fever and a sprained ankle, I think it’s just a grade one,” she told Noguchi, who had come onto the court as well. “He’s definitely out for the rest of the game.”

Neil shook his head at the diagnosis even though it made him feel nauseous. “ _No, I can play, I can_ -“

Noguchi silenced Neil’s rush of Japanese with a curt wave of his hand. “ _You get off this court and heal so you’ll be able to play in the next game, do you understand_?” He waited until Neil gave a slight nod. “ _Good. One victory doesn’t matter, it’s the endgame that does, Josten. You need to learn that. All of you do_.”

“ _Yuh- yes, coach_ ,” Neil managed to stutter out while Jean watched on intently.

“Get him off court, Moreau, so the game can resume,” Noguchi ordered; Jean was careful to lift Neil up so he didn’t put any weight on his left foot with Marley hovering on his other side, and soon enough Neil was back in the away locker room with Morinello fussing over him. He wanted to scream each time she touched him, and barely heard her lecture about him playing with a fever. Only having Bren in the room kept him still, kept him from forcing her away (where was his knife?).

She allowed him a few minutes to wash off, reminding him to keep weight off his ankle, and he nearly fell a few times between it and being so dizzy; Bren had to steady him at one point. Once he was clean and dressed in sweats (Jean’s sweatshirt), she wrapped his ankle and made him take various pills with several drinks to rehydrate, then lay down with his ankle propped up; he argued about going back out to watch the game, which both Bren and Morinello denied.

He must have fallen asleep at some point, because the next thing he knew, the noise of his team bursting into the locker room woke him up; he jolted upright and nearly fell off of the bench, then smacked his arm into Bren’s chest when his friend went to keep him from landing on the floor (which, all right, hurt like hell because of _muscles_ ). He blinked up at Bren in confusion for a few seconds then recoiled when Jean and Marley got too close.

“What?”

“Oh Shorty, you look like hell,” Marley sighed before she turned to Bren. “What did Morinello say?”

“Thinks he stressed himself out so much that it brought on the fever, that and the lack of sleep, and now the ankle on top of it.” Bren gave Neil a light pat on the shoulder then motioned toward the door before helping him to stand up. “Now that the game’s over, I’m taking him back home.”

“Whatta ‘bout bus?” Neil asked, the vertigo worse than before now that he was upright.

“Think it’ll be better if you’re in the SUV, Red. You can stretch out in the back,” Bren told him. “Bring his stuff and we’ll see you soon.”

Neil’s friends and teammates wished him well, and Janna had the black SUV pulled right up to the exit of the stadium, so Bren could get Neil into it without attracting too much attention. It felt as if as soon as Neil stretched out in the back seat with his foot propped up once again that he was asleep, and then they were back at Edgar Allan.

His clothes were damp with sweat so after Bren gave him another bottle of sports drink to wash down more medicine, he pulled on a fresh sweatshirt (Andrew’s, because it was warm and wasn’t black and red), then fell into bed. He grumbled a little at Bren messing with his sore ankle, done with people touching him, and just wanted to be left alone for a while.

He thought about Andrew, about asking his friend how the Foxes had done that night and if they’d won, but he was too tired to move and didn’t know where his phone was and was asleep before he could ask Bren to find it.

There was a moment of lucidness when Jean and Marley returned, was the gentle press of lips against his forehead and a murmur of French, but otherwise he was left alone. Neil had the thought about something being odd about that, but the drugs pulled him back under.

The lips were back, along with Japanese and fingers through his hair. “ _Nathaniel. So sleepy, are you_?”

“Hmm.” Something twisted inside of Neil, made him frown and struggle to open his eyes. He didn’t like something, and everything ached. Yet should he move? Was it safe?

It would hurt either way, it always did, and he needed to open his eyes.

He forced them to open and had to blink a few times before he recognized the figure sitting on the bed beside him. “I-ich’ro.” His throat was dry and tongue heavy in his mouth. Oh, wait, that was… that informal, wasn’t it?

“ _Yes, Nathaniel_.” Ichirou smiled and stroked his thumb along Neil’s left cheek. “ _Here, I’m told you should be drinking because of the fever_.” He pushed down the quilts covering Neil and then paused for a moment, his expression wiped away, and his fingers dug into Neil’s shoulders as he helped him to sit up. “ _I didn’t know you’d become a Fox, Nathaniel_.”

“Huh?” Neil couldn’t understand those words. “ _Fuh-fox_?”

“ _Yes, a Fox_.” Ichirou adjusted a pillow behind him then tugged on the sweaty shirt which Neil was wearing; across the room, Bren shifted from his position by the door as if uncomfortable and Stuart stood there with a disapproving frown on his face. “ _When did you become a Fox_?” Ichirou asked as he put a bottle of something in Neil’s trembling hands.

“ _I… no_.” Neil went to shake his head, but it hurt too much. “ _Not… Raven_ ,” he managed to get out before he was urged to drink; when the bottle was about halfway empty, he was handed a couple of pills to take as well. He didn’t like how the medicine made him feel, but something told him that then wasn’t a good time to argue with Ichirou.

Once the liquid was gone, Ichirou took the bottle away and gripped his chin. “ _Why are you wearing a Fox sweatshirt, Nathaniel_?”

“ _I…_.” Neil winced when the fingers tightened and fought not to pull away. “ _Was… was cold_.” He was still shivering despite all the sweat and wanted to pull the quilts back up, but he was afraid to move with Ichirou being so close and angry.

“ _Is that all_?”

All what? “ _Ah… bright_?” Neil tried to make his aching head work. “ _Not… tired of black_ ,” he attempted to explain.

Ichirou stared at him for a few seconds then let go of his chin to grab onto the front of the sweatshirt. “ _Minyard gave it to you_?”

“ _Yeah… a joke_.” Neil tried not to move his jaw around in relief of it being free, even though he could still feel the phantom pressure of Ichirou’s fingers against his bone. “ _Always… always tease him about… lousy team_.”

“ _I see_.” Ichirou’s fingers tightened around it and then Neil was being urged to lift his arms as the shirt was pulled up his torso. “Bren, find him something colorful to wear. Stuart, fetch me a damp towel.”

“Yes, my lord.” There was the sound of drawers being opened and closed while the sweatshirt was thrown aside, and then Stuart came over to hand Ichirou something cool and damp which he used to wipe down Neil’s face, chest, back, and neck.

“Apparently, you’re pushing yourself too hard,” Ichirou chided Neil as he wiped away the sweat. “You need to speak up more, Nathaniel.”

“I… don’t want to let you down, my lord,” Neil said as he closed his eyes, unwilling to see the resulting disappointment on the young man’s face. He _couldn’t_ let Ichirou down.

“You have yet to do that.” His bangs were brushed aside and a kiss was pressed against his forehead. “So stubborn.”

“Ah, my lord? This is all I could find? He really doesn’t have much besides those Ravens sweatshirts unless you bought it for him.”

“Hmm? It’s fine.” Neil opened his eyes when something soft brushed against his face and found Ichirou dressing him in one of the cashmere sweaters, a pale blue one.

“But it’ll get ruined,” he tried to complain, only for Ichirou to grasp his right hand and tug it into the sleeve.

“Then you’ll get another one. They’re not priceless.” Once Neil was dressed, Ichirou combed his fingers through Neil’s hair and settled him back in bed. “ _Rest now, I’ll be back in a few days_.” He leaned down for a kiss on the lips. “ _It’s all right, Nathaniel, you’ll see_.”

No, it wasn’t, but Neil summoned a smile anyway and thanked Ichirou for coming to visit him.

Stuart came over when Ichirou stepped away, his expression now worried. “Don’t scare us like that, kiddo. Take it easy a little, okay? Just like your mother, you are. All or nothing.”

“I’ll try,” he told his uncle, and got his hair mussed in return. The meds, probably something for his ankle since he couldn’t feel it hurting at the moment (couldn’t feel much at all hurting), were making him sleepy (sleepier) so he closed his eyes again. He thought he heard his uncle talking to Bren, but it was too much effort to make out the faint words when unconsciousness was right _there_.

Jean and Marley were in the room when he woke up next. “Ah, Sleeping Beauty awakes,” Marley remarked from her bed, while Jean stood up from where he’d been seated at their shared desk.

“How are you feeling?”

Neil frowned at the question and tried to sit up by himself, then let out a huff in frustration when his muscles didn’t seem to want to cooperate; he knew it was the fever draining his strength and begrudgingly allowed Jean to help. “Tired. Sore. Wanna shower.” He noticed that at some point, someone had put a new ice pack on his foot, which was still propped up on a few pillows. There was some pain when he flexed it, but nothing unbearable so he had hope that he’d be back on court in another day or two.

“Perhaps,” Jean told him. “Drink this.” He was given yet another bottle of something cloudy – full of electrolytes, probably – while Marley left the room. “Do you remember earlier?”

Neil waited until his throat wasn’t so dry to speak again. “Ichirou was here.”

“Yes, apparently he was concerned about you and came to make sure you were all right.” Jean didn’t look very happy about that. _Neil_ wasn’t very happy about that. “Do you also remember what happened?”

“Uhm….” Neil looked down at the now damp sweater he was wearing. “He made me change shirts for some reason.”

A pained expression came over Jean’s face for several seconds while he muttered what sounded to be a prayer beneath his breath. “ _Yes_ , for some reason he wasn’t pleased to see you wearing a sweatshirt with another man’s name on it.”

That didn’t make any sense. “I wear yours all of the time.”

Jean rubbed at his forehead as if he had a headache, too. “Well, now you have a nice selection of new sweatshirts, all recently delivered at I don’t want to imagine the expense.” At Neil’s confused look, Jean motioned to a stack of colorful material on top of Marley’s desk.

“Oh.” Neil went to pull his knees up to his chest and winced when he moved his left ankle. “Ichirou?”

“ _Ichirou_ ,” Jean agreed. “You’re also not to step foot onto court or attend class until Morinello clears you.” When Neil jerked his head up at that, Jean shook his. “No. _No_ , you stubborn fool, there’s no arguing with this, not when Ichirou came here to see you and spoke privately with Noguchi.”

Neil flinched at that. “He probably thinks I’m useless now, both of them do.”

Jean sighed as he reached out to brush aside the hair falling onto Neil’s face. “No, I don’t think so, but I’m hoping they realize you can’t go on without any breaks. Even devils need a day of rest.”

“You’re always there at my side,” Neil pointed out.

“Not always.” Jean appeared remorseful about that for some insane reason. “ _Why didn’t you say anything? You should have told us. You should have at least told me, you’re not here alone_.”

Neil shrugged as he slowly pulled his right knee up to his chest. “ _You need to focus on being captain_.”

“ _That doesn’t mean I can’t be there for you_.” Jean cupped Neil’s left cheek. “ _Partners, remember? Even if you’re a British oaf_.”

That wrung a faint smile from Neil. “ _How can I forget the horror of being stuck with someone so **French**_?”

“ _Then don’t let it happen again, or I’ll leave you to Marley_ ,” Jean warned.

Speaking of which… she returned while Jean was gathering things, so Neil could take a shower (he didn’t see Andrew’s sweatshirt anywhere), a tired looking Bren holding open the door, so she could enter with a large mug of tea and a bowl of cut up fruit. “Okay, Shorty, here’s something to put a little color in your cheeks.” She noticed the change of clothes in Jean’s hands and went to put the things down on the one desk. “Once you stop stinking, that is.”

“Thanks.” Still, he gave her a slight smile then allowed Jean to help him shower, grateful to wash off the sweat and to change into all new clothes (he didn’t know where the new sweats had come from and probably didn’t want to, but they were soft as hell against his skin).

Marley had also remade the bed with fresh sheets, so Neil sank down on it with gratitude (and was ordered to put his injured ankle up right away by both roommates). “What time is it?” he asked as he accepted the mug of tea and what turned out to be anti-inflammatory pills for his ankle and mild pain relievers.

“Friday night – you’ve pretty much slept an entire day and look like you could do it again,” Marley informed him. “Oh, and here.” She handed over his phone. “Judging from the way it’s been buzzing, someone’s worried about you.”

Neil unlocked it to find several messages from Andrew, but none in the last couple of hours. Since he was still tired and the battery almost dead, he sent a quick text stating that he was fine and would call him tomorrow, then threw it back to Marley. She scoffed at that but after checking the screen, got up to plug it in for him.

“I let him know you’re still alive. An idiot, but still alive.”

“Thanks,” Neil repeated, then sighed as he sipped the tea. Jean came over to the bed with the bowl of fruit and, when Neil nodded, sat down next to him.

“They won their match,” Jean said. “Both of us on to the next round.”

“Hmm.” Neil wondered which teams they’d face, and if any of the Big Three would be placed against each other. “I won’t have long to get back in shape.”

Jean gave his left cheek a gentle push. “You will, you’re too stubborn to let this set you back. In fact, it might even make you better, having a chance to rest.”

Neil twisted around as much as he could and eyed his partner while he sipped his tea. “Hey Tall Freak, I think this shit is contagious,” he warned. “ _Someone’s_ delirious.”

Marley looked up from her phone and frowned. “Eh, I’m not worried, it seems to just pass back and forth between oblivious idiots.” She ignored the rude gestures that Neil and Jean gave her to continue texting someone, probably Meg.

“ _We should have left her in Nevada_ ,” Neil mumbled in Japanese as he reached for a strawberry.

“ _Perhaps we’ll get a second chance this round_ ,” Jean said. “ _That or there’s always the ocean when we play the Trojans_.”

Neil forced himself to swallow the tart fruit, certain that Jean didn’t know what he’d said right then, the connection to Neil’s mother on that California beach. “ _Perhaps_.” Still, he didn’t feel all that hungry anymore and rested his head on his partner’s shoulder.

“ _You need to eat_ ,” Jean chided, his fingers gentle in Neil’s hair, gentle in a way his mother’s had never been once they left Baltimore. “ _This is in part why you’re like this in the first place_.”

“ _Are all French awful nags_?” Neil asked as he blindly reached for the bowl of fruit, only to have Jean guide his hand to it.

“ _We are merely sharing the gift that is our perfection_.”

“ _Please, I’m trying to keep food down_.”

“ _Insolent British devil_.”

Despite everything, a slight smile tugged at Neil’s lips before he parted them to toss what felt to be a blackberry into it.

*******

If it wasn’t bad enough to fly all the way out to Idaho to play with a bunch of kitty-cats, Andrew had to deal with an idiot bird being all but carried off court during his own game and not hearing from him the rest of the night.

The Foxes beat the Idaho State Bengals by four points, which meant they were very grumpy kitty-cats. Those four points were largely due to Kevin, Andrew, Boyd and Curtis, but the team had won and would advance to the next stage in the play-offs, with the first two teams on the roster determined in a couple of days.

If they were up against any of the Big Three, they were in trouble, considering that Penn State had knocked them out of the death matches two seasons ago. Andrew wanted to see Neil again, wanted to play the Ravens once more that season and prove that the Foxes weren’t to be taken lightly.

He truly was fucked up if he was willing to put up with Exy just to spend a few minutes alone with a certain little bird.

The rest of the Foxes caught footage of the Ravens’ game with Purdue while they waited for their connecting flight, saw Neil being slammed onto the floor and start to panic over being pinned (the commentators put it down to him being disoriented and a possible concussion, while Renee stood there blank-faced and Andrew clenched his fists and made a mental note of the Boilermakers’ current captain) and then escorted off of the court. Nicky gave Andrew a worried look while Aaron said that Josten had to be fine since he wasn’t carried off in a stretcher.

Andrew checked his phone and found a quick text from Patel stating that Neil was already on his way back to the Nest and had an ankle sprain, but nothing from the little bird himself.

He didn’t like that Neil had been so quiet the past two weeks, had barely had the time to talk to him and had sounded so worn down when he did. There hadn’t been any obvious panic attacks when they did talk, but Neil was too subdued, was too curt as if he was going through the motions, was just trying to check something else off his list and be done with everything.

It wasn’t that Andrew believed that Neil would do something stupid, it was that he thought that… okay, he thought that Neil could very well do something stupid again, just not anything too drastic.

Did the idiot not have a single cell devoted to self-preservation in his body or what?

The Foxes returned to PSU late at night – flying was better that driving in some respects, especially since they were stuck on the Thursday game schedule. Morning practice was scuttled because of it, so Andrew got to sleep in for once before class; he was awake an hour earlier than he needed and up on the roof, phone in hand as he sent off a couple of texts to Neil, none of which were answered.

When there was still no response after his classes, he pulled up Patel’s number and sent her a message – ‘WTF is going on?’.

He’d just finished a pint of ice cream for lunch, in no mood to eat with Kevin and Nicky, when his phone rang – of course it wasn’t Neil. “As polite as ever, Minyard,” poetic Patel said, her voice a bit subdued as if she was tired or wary.

“What’s wrong with Neil? Why isn’t he calling me?” Andrew leaned against the counter and told himself that he wasn’t anxious or anything.

“He’s asleep right now, which is a good thing. Beside getting roughed up and spraining his ankle, he’s running a really high fever and probably has for a couple of days, the jackass.” Patel sounded a bit irate with her roommate at the moment; she wasn’t the only one.

Andrew considered that as he tapped the fingers of his left hand against the pack of cigarettes in his front pocket. “Virus?” Neil hadn’t sounded congested or anything when they’d last talked, though.

“Actually, we think it’s from too much stress and not enough rest. The fool’s worked himself into knots the last few weeks, what with the new coaches and play-offs.”

“And Ichirou,” Andrew was so kind to add.

“Yeah, and Ichirou,” Patel agreed. She let out a slow breath but caught it at the end. “Look, about him… he came to check on Neil this morning.”

“On his _property_ ,” Andrew said before he could stop himself.

“You’re preaching to the choir about the bastard, monkey-fucker, but watch that shit around Neil,” Patel snapped. “And I’m not gonna get off-topic, okay? He came here and he saw the fun little gift you gave Neil, one of them anyway. Good thing the other was in the closet or he may have really lost it.”

It took a moment for Andrew to figure out what she meant, since it was a bit vague. “You mean the sweatshirt or the fox?”

“The sweatshirt, since Neil was wearing it to bed.” Andrew hated the way something inside of his chest clenched upon hearing that. “Long story short, Ichirou wasn’t happy and the shirt’s gone.”

Now there was a tight feeling in Andrew’s chest that wasn’t anywhere near as pleasant as the previous one. “What did he do to Neil?”

“Nothing!” Patel assured him in a rush. “Bren was here and said that Neil told him it was just a joke, that he’s a Raven and it seemed to placate him. But Declan’s off picking up a special-order Ichirou placed, and Bren got drilled again about if there’s anything going on between you and Neil, which he said ‘no’, that you’re just friends. Watch your ass, monkey-fucker. Ichirou being rather ‘mine, mine, mine’ right now and not understanding that you got there first.” Then she cleared her throat. “Well, sorta. Give Neil another five years or so to figure it out. That or send me a hundred bucks to buy some special dolls and maybe I can explain it to him with them while Susan and Naomi hold him down.”

Andrew glanced at the freeze which contained some of Kevin’s stash of vodka but knew he’d never hear the end of it if he showed up to afternoon practice drunk – he just had to hold out a few more hours until they got to Eden’s, dammit. _Five_ more years – ha. Someone was optimistic as hell, weren’t they? “He’ll gut you if you try to hold him down.”

“That’s why I’m having Susan and Naomi do it, _d’uh_.”

Andrew hung up on her.

He hated to admit that he debated sending her the money, just to see if she _could_ talk any sense into the idiot.

It was a normal night at Eden’s, and just like the week before, he deliberated catching on his phone Nicky and Aaron bopping around on the dance floor like the rest of the wasted idiots or Kevin drunkenly rambling about possible opponents in the next two weeks just so he could send it to Neil to cheer him up. Yet Eden’s was their ‘safe’ place, was where they came to relax and unwind, so his phone remained on the table once he saw the text from his little bird about the call on Saturday.

Neil still sounded tired and his voice was raspy when he finally did call, and he’d pause now and then as if having to organize his thoughts. “I’m benched for a couple more days at least,” he said, “even though my ankle already feels better.”

He should be benched for a whole week, anything to get Ichirou to leave him alone for a while, Andrew thought. “Too bad they can’t fix stupidity so easily,” he replied.

“Not… not you too, okay? I’ve already had four lectures today – one from Noguchi, our team nurse, from Bren and my uncle, now that I’m feeling a little better. No more pushing myself too hard.” Neil gave one of those bitter laughs of his, the kind which Andrew hated. “Like it’s so easy to do. Like I just _stop_ doing it, just stop caring about everything.”

Andrew clicked his tongue while he shook a cigarette free from the pack. “That’s why it’s so much easier to not care about anything.” Or at least, that’s what he kept telling himself those days – so much easier _not_ to care about a little bird with shadows in his pale blue eyes and sadness in his rare true laughter and a willingness to open his own veins to bleed himself dry for others.

Dammit, Andrew was supposed to be _smart_ , to know better.

“Yeah, that’s what she always tried to teach me,” Neil said, his hoarse voice barely more than a whisper. “That’s another thing I fucked up.”

It was never good when Neil started dwelling on his mother, the useless bitch that she’d been, so Andrew distracted him for about ten minutes by telling him some of the ways he could get under Wilds’ skin when she arrived at the Nest that summer before ordering him to get some more rest.

The rest of the weekend was… it wasn’t terrible. Aaron brought up the dorm room situation for next year and said that he could either room with Boyd and Yee or Andrew could accept that Katelyn would be hanging out in their suite; he’d given him enough time to ‘acclimate’ to the changed situation (obvious Bee talk there) but enough was enough. It wasn’t fair that Aaron was always hanging out in her room and she deserved to feel safe in his, so Andrew could decide on how it would be.

Andrew stared at his brother for about a minute before he clicked his tongue and replied that he wasn’t putting up with Nicky by himself. To his surprise, Aaron appeared happy with his choice, though he quickly masked it and reminded him that he better be nice to Katelyn, dammit, before leaving the kitchen.

Just as long as the girl kept her word to not harm Aaron and Bee felt that she was good for Andrew’s brother… well, he wouldn’t hurt her. ‘Nice’ was asking a bit (a lot) too much, but he wouldn’t touch her, especially since Aaron was finally honoring a promise for once.

Sunday was back to campus and Andrew’s practice with Renee, where she apologized after shoving him face first into the wall. “I’m sure you’re worried about Neil.”

“He’s getting better.” There had been a couple of texts from him that morning complaining about being bored, of all things.

“That’s good.” Renee paused for a sip of water and seemed to be dwelling on something. “Dan’s asking a lot of questions about the Ravens from Meg, especially about Neil. It’s clear she’s trying to get a better feel of what’s going on there before she arrives, and I think… I think Meg might be opening up a little.” At Andrew’s narrow gaze, she shook her head. “I don’t know what exactly they’re talking about, but they’re awfully quiet when they come back from their walks, and Dan’s seemed angry a time or two. I figured I’d let you know.”

He hated the idea of Neil’s secrets being shared with a ‘do-gooder’ like Wilds, but their captain was about to tread into hostile waters. Perhaps the bit of forewarning would mean that she’d be extra-vigilant in protecting her new wards.

Perhaps.

It became clear on Monday that there wasn’t much that Wilds or anyone else on the team could do for the Foxes that season when Wymack came out of his office while they were gathered in the lounge for afternoon practice. His expression was solemn as he informed them that they’d be playing Breckenridge and Penn State in the next round.

Facing one of those teams would be bad enough, but they’d yet to beat Breckenridge and Penn State had kicked their ass once already. While Andrew doubted it would be quite the rout as last time… he glanced at the freshmen and knew that the Foxes were done for the season in a couple of weeks.

Matheson and Hurst squawked and huffed about how they’d take on the teams and win, but everyone else had come to the same realization as Andrew. Oh, it wasn’t the attitude from two years ago where they merely accepted their defeat and gave in, not when he saw first disappointment and then resolve on the upperclassmen’s faces, when he saw that disgusting ‘I _must_ improve’ look on Kevin’s. The Foxes would give it their all and show that last season hadn’t been a fluke and that they’d be back in the play-offs next year, contenders once more.

He just had to wonder, though, _who_ had pull with the ERC and could have possibly stacked the deck against the Foxes like that?

That was a familiar refrain in his head even on Tuesday, when he’d left his Abnormal Psychology class and was headed to the café to meet Kevin for lunch. He was just about to cross the street when a shiny new Lexus sedan, black with tinted windows, pulled up right in front of him.

Something told him it wasn't Bee inviting him out to lunch.

No, not unless Bee had somehow turned into a burly Asian man dressed in an expensive black suit who motioned for Andrew to get into the car after saying "Mr. Moriyama wants to speak with you", in accented English.

What a coincidence - Andrew wanted to speak to the man, too. So, he climbed into the back of the sedan after sending off a text to Kevin that he was skipping lunch for the time being.

They ended up at an empty parking lot near an abandoned construction project, which was rather cliched in Andrew's opinion, next to a waiting black limousine which sat idling. The driver of the Lexus got out and opened the door for Andrew, then the door of the other vehicle in a clear sign that he was to switch cars, which Andrew did after flexing his wrists; the 'driver' caught the motion and frowned, but only took a step forward before he was waved back by Ichirou Moriyama, who was sitting in the limousine.

"Mr. Minyard."

Not without some reluctance due to his back being to the limo’s driver (even with the glass divider being up), Andrew sat down opposite of the young Moriyama 'lord', who was dressed in a dark grey suit probably costing more than semester's worth of tuition at PSU (if Andrew was paying for it in the first place). They regarded each other in silence for several seconds before Ichirou inclined his head. "No questions?"

"Figured you'd get to things soon enough," Andrew replied, his arms folded over his chest with his thumbs tucked beneath the edges of his long sleeves.

"True." Ichirou regarded him for a moment longer and then smiled, the expression utterly lacking in warmth. "There's a matter that's been left unattended for too long and I feel it's time to amend that oversight - Kevin Day."

"What about him?" Andrew asked as his right thumb brushed against the hilt of a knife in his left armband. "He's not _property_ , last I checked."

Ichirou's light brown eyes glinted at the emphasis Andrew had put on 'property'. "Not quite, but he _is_ an investment. Time, money and effort was put into him being the success he is now, all of that at my family's expense."

"He was nearly ruined by your family, if I remember correctly," Andrew pointed out. "Your brother, to be exact."

"Which is why he was allowed to leave Edgar Allan and seek out his father," Ichirou replied without any visible reaction to the jab or mention of Riko. "It doesn't excuse the fact that there are certain expectations of him. If he wants to continue to chart his own future, he must pay dues owed to those who made that future possible."

Andrew's eyes narrowed at that insinuation. "So why talk to me and not Day?"

"Because it's my understanding that one must go through you to get to him, correct? Aren't you his protector?" Now there was a hint of mockery in that cold smile.

"Something like that." Andrew doubted, however, that Ichirou had come all the way to South Carolina _just_ to talk about Kevin. "What's the deal? Is he to play for the Barons, too? That's not much of him charting his own future though, is it?"

Ichirou leaned back some more in his seat and settled his left hand on his crossed knees. "Nathaniel told you about that, did he?"

"We talk a little," Andrew hedged, wary of the sharp gleam in those eyes at the mention of 'Nathaniel'. "Something like that isn't difficult to figure out, though, considering you own the team and him."

"Yes, I do." Ichirou's smile took on a feral edge as he reached down for what turned out to be a black gift bag, which he pushed toward a suddenly tense Andrew. "I _do_ own him, so kind of you to acknowledge that, though I believe you tend to forget that from time to time."

Something acidic flooded Andrew's stomach and made his mouth go dry as he picked up the bag, his attention on Ichirou in case it was some sort of trick. He hated to acknowledge the emotion as fear as he gingerly reached inside of the bag and felt something soft.

Daring to glance down for a quick second, his shoulders slumped when he caught sight of familiar orange and white and recognized the sweatshirt he'd given Neil just a few weeks ago. The sweatshirt which Patel had warned him that a certain 'lord' had caught Neil wearing and hadn't been happy about, enough so to come all the way to PSU to prove a point, it seemed. "Not your style?"

"Not _Nathaniel's_ style," Ichirou stated. "Miss Wilds will be informed about the policy of no gifts for the Ravens players, especially from rival teams, during her official orientation."

"For _all_ Ravens, or just your personal one?" Andrew asked as he set the bag aside.

"All Ravens, but _especially_ the ones who belong to me." Ichirou tapped his fingers against his knee. "I don't think you understand just how much that's really true, Minyard. I own Nathaniel's loyalty, his future, his very being, and those things will _never_ change." Now his smile was so smug that Andrew wanted to carve it from his lips. "He's a Wesninski and a Hatford, and loyalty is a trait both share." A slight laugh escaped him as those fingers tapped again. "Or shared."

“And you?” Andrew dared to ask. “Seems to me only one of them serve you now.”

“Because I know the importance of _value_ , which brings us back to Day,” Ichirou said as his expression smoothed out. “His freedom for eighty percent of all future salary and endorsements.”

Someone was a greedy bastard, wasn’t he? Andrew wondered if that was the same ‘deal’ that Neil and Moreau had to look forward to and scoffed. “Seventy percent, and you return thirty percent of the money he’s already made while a Raven. Though the deal’s only good if Kevin accepts it since I’m not his agent.”

Ichirou’s eyes narrowed at the counter-offer. “You think to barter with me for your friend’s life?”

“He’s not property,” Andrew reminded the bastard, then proceeded to have a stare-off with him for almost a minute.

“Day has one day to decide,” Ichirou told him with a curt nod while he reached into his suit’s coat to pull out a phone; Andrew kept a careful watch of his hands to make sure it was just a phone.

“So nice that you allow _someone_ to have a bit of free will.”

Ichirou paused with the phone near his face to give Andrew a quizzical look and then smiled, the expression once more feral. “Is that a reference to Nathaniel? Oh Minyard, do you think I forced anything on him? Yes, he was handed over by his own father, but that was to Tetsuji. I gave him a chance to reconsider what he was about to do, but _he_ was the one to offer himself up in the end. Like I said, _loyal_ … _and mine_.” Then he made a dismissive motion with his left hand while he spoke in Japanese to someone on the phone.

It took all of Andrew’s control to not slip a knife free and stab it into the bastard’s throat, but he knew he’d never get out of the car alive and his family would pay for his actions, his family and Kevin and probably Neil in the end. All he did was gave Ichirou a cold look until the limousine’s door was opened a couple of seconds later and took the black gift bag with him.

A different lackey (the limo’s driver, apparently) handed him a business card with a number on it and then got back in the vehicle, leaving Andrew standing in the parking lot as it drove away. Well wasn’t that nice? Andrew scowled at the departing black shape before he pulled out his phone and checked where the nearest intersection was, then arranged for an uber to pick him up there to take him back to campus.

He waited until after practice to tell Kevin about the little visit, which gave his friend enough time to calm down (and access to vodka). It took a few shots before Kevin could look at the business card without hyperventilating. “I can pick whatever team I want?” he asked, as if that was the most important thing. Damn Exy addicts….

“’Chart your own future’ he said. There was no mention of you having to join the Barons or any other specific team, just that you had to give him most of your earnings,” Andrew explained, not for the first time.

Kevin shrugged at that. “I don’t care about the money, I just want to play for whatever team suits me best.” He poured himself another shot, the alcohol more or less making it into the glass. “I just want to play.”

Damn Exy addicts, Andrew thought to himself yet again. “So you’re accepting the offer?”

Kevin blinked at the question, finished the shot then nodded. “I… just want to play, and I don’t want to worry anymore about Ichirou coming after me.” Andrew frowned at that, left wondering if Kevin doubted his ability to protect him. “That and I can pay Coach back with the old endorsement money, which will make things easier when I tell him the truth this summer.”

Nice to know that someone was finally serious about telling Wymack the truth. “You know you don’t have to accept it,” Andrew argued.

“I know, but this way it’s over.” Kevin gave him a thin smile while pouring another shot. “You’re not gonna be there forever, I graduate next year. This means I can focus on graduating and getting recruited by the team I want.” His expression grew resolved as he picked up the glass. “I can finally do what _I_ want.”

When he put it like that… Andrew grabbed the bottle and had some vodka himself, never mind Kevin’s glare. “Go off and be someone else’s problem, then.”

“Asshole,” Kevin muttered, but he seemed calmed down at last and soon enough started bitching about the nightly practice session.

Andrew received a call from Neil on Wednesday, one where his little bird was chipper for the first time in ages since he’d been allowed on the court for a short while that day, just a little to prove that his ankle was in good enough shape for the game the next day. A game where he wouldn’t be playing more than a quarter or two, if that, but since they’d be up against UW he didn’t think it would be a problem. The Huskies weren’t that much of a challenge and usually washed out around the death match round each year, if they made it that far.

Andrew almost asked about Ichirou and the sweatshirt, but he had a feeling that Neil’s good mood wouldn’t last much longer if he did so he sat on the roof as he got teased about being lazy and teased back that wasn’t it a shame, that backliner not spraining a certain little bird’s jaw and sparing everyone a bunch of nonsense for a week or two.

It wasn’t until he was back in his room that he realized that they hadn’t exchanged any truths in a while, that they just talked for the sake of talking anymore. Which made the whole conversation with Ichirou that much more unpalatable.

It was an away game with Breckenridge, and about as unbearable as Andrew had expected; the crowd was rude and unruly, jeering at the Foxes whenever they went out on court. Nicky and Matheson were yelled at by Wymack several times to not egg the assholes on, and even Renee seemed a bit put out by the abuse. It only got worse when the game began, the Jackals determined to advance to the next round at the Foxes’ expense.

The pricks won in the end, but it was down to one point, the closest the Foxes had ever come to beating the Jackals. Not that it mattered much when they still lost, when they’d be facing Penn State next week.

Andrew got to watch a recovered Neil eviscerate some newbie reporter who dared to ask if his injury in the previous game was a sign that he wasn’t meant to play a physically demanding game like Exy. Moreau winced then buried his face in his hands while Neil at first blinked and inquired if that was a crack about his height, and then proceeded to ask the guy if he wanted to go just _one_ quarter out on court with him, just _one_. Barring that, would he want to go out there with the women from the Ravens’ and Huskies’ teams? Some of them weren’t much taller than Neil or weighed more than him, so they wouldn’t be much of a challenge by that logic, right? They’d even forego any padding, how about that? A big, strong guy like him wouldn’t want any, right? Just them and a ball and their sticks, proving how weak and pathetic they were, why not accept?

It went downhill from there.

Out of bored curiosity, Andrew checked the moron’s twitter account after that teardown and found it blasted by just about every woman in Exy who was free at the moment (and a hell of a lot of other women, athletes and otherwise) who were challenging the reporter to find out just how ‘weak’ they were because of their size, along with a bunch of short men who evidently didn’t care to be picked on for their height (or lack of it).

He had to hand it to Neil, his little bird was a shit-stirrer extraordinaire. How the hell Neil had ever managed to live under the radar for so many years, he hadn’t a damn clue.

When asked about it on Saturday, Neil was a bit chagrined about the whole thing. “Put me down because my aim was off or I was slow on passing or _something_ related to how I play, okay, but bullshit like that? It’s ridiculous, like they’re just grasping for something to throw in my face,” he said, voice tight with anger.

Andrew snorted out twin trails of smoke. “You do realize you’re just setting yourself up for years of that shit by playing Exy professionally, don’t you? Those people are paid to pick at you, after all. It’s what sells news.”

“I don’t consider _that_ news.”

“’News’ is a subjective term, idiot.”

“We’ll agree on that.”

A ranting Neil was surprisingly amusing, especially when he _wasn’t_ ranting about Andrew being an asshole (which also hadn’t happened lately) or Kevin, though the call was ended short by Neil being dragged away by Bren (it seemed he was on mandatory downtime on weekends since his ‘I am going to be an idiot and work myself into an exhaustive state’ fit of stupidity).

The Foxes spent the week leading up to the Penn State game practicing harder than usual, and it looked as if Matheson and Hurst were finally getting the hint that they needed to buckle down and cooperate if the team was to have any chance of functioning at a championship level. Too little, too late, of course, but it meant that the Nittany Lions didn’t obliterate the Foxes like they had two years ago, that the Foxes actually put up a decent fight that time and showed why they were being seen as a possible contender for the Big Three title in a few years.

Just not that year, not with two losses and them out of the championships.

“So, you get to sleep in now, lucky you,” Neil said on Friday, still sounding tired from the previous night’s game and flight. “Wear all the black to your little goth heart’s content.”

“You do realize I have a week off, don’t you?” Andrew asked as he flicked ash into the air. “And can come up there to kick your ass.”

“Too much effort,” Neil scoffed. “That and… nobody’s going to be here,” Neil admitted with obvious reluctance.

Andrew stilled at that. “No holiday practice over the break?” He knew that Noguchi was instigating some changes, such as no more sixteen-hour days (no more Neil freaking out over that), but it was the first that a little bird had mentioned the Ravens getting another rare holiday.

“Yeah, Noguchi feels we’ll perform better if we have a short break.” That wasn’t quite a laugh, just then. “Him and Tetsuji got into it one day, I wish I could have filmed it, the moment that bastard realized that he really is nothing more than a figurehead right now.” Neil let out a slow breath, and the otherwise quiet informed Andrew that he must be up in the West Tower again. “Anyway, we get a break.”

“And where are you going?” Andrew suspected he already knew, especially since a little bird had waited until the last minute to sing.

“Yeah.” Neil mumbled something too faint to be understood then sighed. “To New York.”

The half-finished cigarette was flicked away when anger flashed through Andrew. “To Ichirou.”

“Yeah,” Neil repeated.

“So much for a break, hmm?” The words spilled out before Andrew could hold them back. “How much money is he going to make off you this time? Guess it doesn’t matter if you pass out on court as long as the rest of the Ravens can still play.”

When there was nothing but the faint sound of breathing on the other end of the phone for about a minute, Andrew clicked his tongue. “Dammit, I-“

“It’s not like that,” Neil said, his voice rough yet quiet. “It… it’s not going to be like that this time.”

“Neil… don’t go.” Andrew would never beg, had sworn to never, _ever_ beg again, but he _asked_.

“ _You know that’s not an option for me_ ,” Neil said in German, his voice rougher than before. “ _But he promised it wouldn’t be like last time, that it… it would be a break. Jean and Marley will be there, too_.”

Andrew thought about Ichirou showing up a couple of weeks ago with his armed men to make his veiled threats and to reinforce his ‘claim’ and threw all caution to the wind. “ _Do you want me to be there, too_?”

Neil drew in a sharp breath at the offer. “ _No_ ,” he said with so much force that Andrew felt the words as if they were physical. “ _No, Andrew… no. You can’t_.”

 _“Fine_ ,” Andrew said, refusing to accept the… the discomfort that he felt at the refusal.

“ _You know you can’t_ ,” Neil continued as if Andrew hadn’t spoken. “ _Ichirou’s… he’s… I don’t know what’s going on, but he’s weird about you_ ,” figured that Neil still didn’t know what was going on there, “ _so you can’t. I don’t want you near him_.” His breath hitched again. “ _I… I need you there. I can’t do this if you’re not **there**_.”

It was odd and more than a bit disgusting, how a few words could make Andrew’s emotions flip around like that, could make the ‘discomfort’ go away and replace it with such a soothing warmth. “ _Okay, I’ll be here_ ,” he promised his little bird. “ _Less time wasted driving anyway_.”

Neil’s laugh was a bit more convincing that time. “Lazy goth asshole.”

“I hate you,” Andrew said as the warmth grew stronger. “92%.”

Neil hummed at that then asked him what his plans were for spring break, other than sleeping and drinking.

*******

Neil found himself enjoying the week in New York City, despite being back at the Lowell in a suite on the floor beneath the penthouse where Ichirou was staying. He shared the extravagant room with Jean and Marley while Bren and Janna had their own next door, and spent about half of the nights in it.

True to his word, Ichirou didn’t make them do a bunch of advertising campaigns, just one for ASICS which only lasted a couple of hours, and which Marley joined them in, too. It was worth putting up with the strangers fussing with Neil’s hair and face just to watch how excited she was to take part in her first photo shoot, to finally have her own endorsement deal and know she would be online and in magazines, associated with a famous athletic brand.

They also sat in for an interview with Exy World, where they were asked about the upcoming final games (the assumption clear that the Ravens would be one of the last teams standing come the end of the season), their thoughts on Noguchi taking over as their new head coach (all good, of course, though it took every bit of Neil’s acting skill to appear remorseful about Tetsuji’s approaching retirement), and their ‘odd’ partnership.

Those duties aside, Marley dragged Neil and Jean (and Bren and Janna) off to shop at several high-end stores, armed with the credit card Stuart had given her and Ichirou’s blessing. Neil cringed at all the bags they brought back to the hotel, a couple of them filled with clothes that Marley and Jean had insisted he get, and became determined that they find something else to do.

There were their morning runs in Central Park and their return trip back to the Met, so Neil could send more pictures to Andrew, along with the MoMA and the Guggenheim. Jean and Marley went off to another show on Broadway (something about boots), but Neil decided that he would rather stay in and have dinner with his uncle and Bren that night.

He had a couple of dinners with Ichirou, of course, quiet affairs that weren’t bad where they talked and even sat out on the balcony in front of a firepit while the sun set over the city skyline, Neil nursing either whisky or a glass or two of wine, and he told himself that it was all right to sleep in the huge, comfortable bed. That he needed to get used to such things, that he was safe in the room while lying next to Ichirou, with Ichirou’s men just outside of the door.

Sometimes it worked.

The night before they returned to campus, Ichirou treated them to a Barons’ game where the team played the Houston Sirens. They arrived at the stadium early enough to see the teams warming up out on the court, and Neil thought that Marley was going to start hyperventilating when Muldani came over to greet them. “Jean, it’s good to see you again,” she told him with a slight smile. “Congratulations on making captain.”

“Thank you.” He gave her a slight nod, his demeanor its usual aloofness, but Neil could tell that his partner was pleased by her recognition. “You’re doing well this season.”

“Our offense could be better but we’re working on that,” she admitted without any reservation. “Still good enough to give the Barons some difficulty tonight.” Her gaze shifted over to Marley. “I see you’re finally being aggressive out on the court. You should be a little bit of a challenge when you make it to pros. A _little_.” Her smile was bright and sharp.

At first Marley was obviously delighted at her hero’s recognition, and then her eyes narrowed at the taunt. “I don’t know, I put up with Crusty here all of the time, I don’t think you could be much more trouble than him.”

“’Crusty’?” Muldani’s dark eyes widened at that as she glanced at Jean, who shook his head. “All right, I’m beginning to wish I’d stuck around the Nest for a few more years.” Her smile was less of a challenge that time and contained a hint of fondness as she glanced at the three of them. “It’s going to be interesting once you all graduate.”

“If they make it that long,” Jean muttered while glaring at Marley, who stuck her tongue out at him in return.

Now Muldani’s expression was wistful. “It’s such a big change….” Then she shook her head as her expression turned into something more guarded, more reserved. “But that’s life, isn’t it? You have to keep moving forward, and that means accepting that it things won’t be the same.”

Jean hesitated before speaking. “No word from Kevin?”

She scoffed at the question. “Other than a ‘good game’ comment or two? No. And you know what? That’s fine.” She flicked an imaginary piece of dirt from her blue and green uniform before she nodded to them. “I hope you enjoy watching the game tonight, and I’d wish you luck on winning this season but I know you won’t need it.”

Marley rushed to wish her good luck on the game while Neil and Jean nodded in thanks, then they watched her rejoin her teammates before Bren led them up to the private box where Ichirou waited for them. “Wow, so Day really messed up his chance with a goddess like her, huh?” Marley commented once they were in the elevator.

“So it appears.” Jean frowned as he rubbed the bottom of his chin and Bren shot Neil an intrigued look. “I know they were on some sort of break,” he finally admitted, “but Kevin always made it seem as if he intended to resume things once he graduated and it wouldn’t be an issue, them having a relationship.”

“Wait, so you’re telling me that Kevin Day has – or had – someone like her waiting for him and he fucked it up?” Bren asked, his eyebrows raised almost to his hairline. “No wonder you guys think he’s such a git.”

“Yeah, she’s an amazing player,” Neil commented, then sighed when his friends gave him ‘that’ look. “What?”

“You think that’s what explains the runt?” Bren asked Marley.

“Maybe,” she said while Jean shook his head. “He’s a damn good goalie.”

“Eh, Andrew?”

“Yeah, probably,” Marley sighed while Bren appeared thoughtful and Jean unhappy. “It’s the only thing I can think of.”

Why were Neil’s friends such assholes?

The Barons won the game, though the Sirens made them fight for every point (especially with Muldani helping to defend the goal). Neil sat up in the private box with its bar and buffet and leather seats, sat next to Ichirou and listened to Radcliffe cheer on the home team, and could very well imagine the time in a few years when he’d be down on the court in dark blue and gold. 

In little more than a year it would be Jean.

That thought made his heart race and throat go dry as he contemplated being at Edgar Allan without his partner, of leading the Ravens on his own, of coming to New York by himself. Yet he pushed aside the panic and pretended to enjoy the game, to smile at the way that Jean teased Marley each time the Barons scored another goal.

He hoped Andrew was having a better time on his spring break.

He spent the last night with Ichirou and did everything he could to distract himself from all thoughts of the future (such as it was), and was tired enough to get a couple of hours of sleep. The aches and marks he’d have to cover to avoid unwanted questions were worth it when a pleased Ichirou wished him a safe flight back to Charleston and even gave him a large wad of cash so he (and Jean and Marley) could do something (supervised) the following weekend (as part of the whole ‘rest up’ thing Neil had been ordered to do).

For a few seconds Neil thought about how he could take the money and find the nearest Greyhound station, buy a ticket for somewhere, _anywhere_ far away, just go and shed Neil Josten for a new identity as soon as he reached one of his mother’s stashes and-

But he couldn’t, not with the promises he’d made and the people depending on him, so he forced a smile on his lips, the same lips which kissed Ichirou in thanks and promised him a new plushie soon before he left the penthouse.

Neil didn’t want to dwell on the fact that the Nest was beginning to feel like ‘home’, that it was familiar, that the black walls were suffocating and cold yet reassuring at the same time, that the whole place symbolized the only source of stability (fucked up or not) that he’d ever really known in his life, other than his mother.

There’d been a harshness, a cruelty to her, too, so perhaps it made sense after all. She’d kept him alive, had kept him… no, he couldn’t say ‘whole’, could he? But she’d given him a reason to live, just like the Nest did, even if she’d hate the fact that it was Exy.

It was difficult to find time to talk to Andrew when as soon as he returned to campus, it was right back into classes and, more importantly, practice; the Ravens found out they’d be playing Notre Dame (Jean actually _smiled_ at that) and Breckenridge in the last round before the semi-finals.

Thursday they faced Notre Dame on their own court and won, and something in Neil settled at that, at coming back after time away from practice and sweating out on the court, and he felt a sort of peace as the fans cheered over the Ravens’ victory, as the raucous claps and voices and feet pounding on cement reverberated through his body.

He may be the son of a murderer and a thief, may be a liar and a shadow, a nobody and a possession, but _this_? This was something he could do, this game of violence and speed and feints.

Saturday was practice in the morning and workout after lunch, and a call with Andrew where he assured his friend that he did indeed have a nice break in New York for once, where he felt an odd bubbly sensation in his chest at Andrew’s unwarranted protectiveness and then bland complaints over putting up with his family and Day. He didn’t know why talking to one person settled him so much, made dealing with Ichirou and the prospect of a future in which he had no say suddenly become so bearable… but that’s what Andrew was for him. Jean was security, was the safety and rock to which he could bank himself against day after day, and Andrew was the warmth which kept him from growing cold and unfeeling.

It didn’t make sense… but Neil was used to things not making sense at that point. Honestly? He was afraid at examining things too closely, in case it provoked nightmares buried deep.

Some days he felt as if there was nothing beneath the surface _but_ nightmares. That the reason he got along so well with Andrew was because it was the same thing with his friend. That if they ever had a chance to really sit down and talk face to face (without a chaperone or a time limit or any other types of restraints on them), that they could unearth a treasure trove of darkness that would take Andrew’s pet psychologist _years_ to address.

If that.

Which meant that Neil was more than happy to leave the Nest for once with Jean and Marley for his ‘therapeutic’ session that afternoon, supposedly for the three of them to go out to dinner and a movie (with Bren and Janna tagging along), only for them to step onto Castle Evermore’s parking lot where the Ravens’ vehicles were located and pause.

“Uhm… so, who can drive?” Marley asked as she eyed the long line of sleek black sedans parked with the licenses plates proclaiming EA along with their graduating year and rank.

Jean was quiet a beat too long before he gave them a guilty look. “Ah, I… never had the opportunity to learn,” he admitted in a quiet voice.

“ _Really_?” Marley asked, her voice a bit too sharp, at least until Neil elbowed her in the side. “Really,” she repeated in a quieter manner before glancing at Neil. “What about you?”

Neil debated lying for a moment before he settled on telling the truth for once. “I can drive cars, motorcycles and most trucks up to a Class A license.” He tugged on his bangs as he thought about that a bit more. “Not that I have a license, though.” Not for his Neil Josten persona – the Moriyamas hadn’t supplied one for him, probably to ensure that he couldn’t run very far if he managed to get out of the Nest.

Both Marley and Jean gawked at him for a couple of seconds until Marley gave a slight laugh, while Bren and Janna shuffled off to the side as if uncomfortable. “Okay, that’s a bit surprising. All in all, I take it that I’ll do the driving?” She glanced over at Bren who nodded, the motions a bit jerky as he tossed a pair of keys at her after fumbling in the pocket of his black blazer for a couple of seconds.

It took a minute or two for Marley to situate herself behind the wheel of the Lexus sedan and then for them to find a sushi place that was ‘acceptable’ for their diet regime, and then she was off and ‘running’ (Neil thought that his mother would be proud of her driving skills – at least the way she pulled out into traffic without much care of cutting off people) to downtown Charleston.

It wasn’t an entirely quiet night as he could feel the stares of the other diners on him during dinner and at the movie theater until the lights went down, but he was still out of the Nest for once, and not for anything to do with Ichirou.

On Sunday they were back out again, only that time they stayed in Evermore’s parking lot as Neil, Bren, and Marley took turns trying to teach Jean to drive. There was a lot of swearing in three different languages and a couple of different dialects, numerous death threats, and Jean’s sedan would need some new rims… and nothing had been done to dispel the ‘myth’ about French drivers.

“Nice to see you park just as good as your fellow countrymen,” Neil muttered when Jean came to a stop well over the yellow lines in the parking lot.

“ _Go to hell_ ,” Jean muttered, his hands clenched around the steering wheel and the corners of his lips tugged downward.

“Now to be fair, he hasn’t hit anything yet,” Bren pointed out. “It’s also an empty parking lot, but still, there’s a huge stadium all the way over there.”

“What the fuck is up with you guys?” Marley demanded to know from where she was sprawled in the backseat with _two_ seatbelts on. “Can you stop with the whole ‘yeah, we rag on each other because we’re from little bitty bits of land which are basically _states_ ’ for like ten minutes so we don’t die in a car crash, okay?”

“ _No,_ ” Neil, Bren and Jean declared at the same time.

Neil may have made a comment to his uncle on their weekly phone call that it had been a bit odd, driving a car after so long (when he’d been explaining things to Jean), and an automatic at that; he and his mother had always stolen older model cars, had gone after those with the least value and so would be a low priority with the police (if they’d be reported at all). That meant manual transmissions, especially in Europe, so he’d found himself looking for a clutch and to shift between gears.

He hadn’t thought anything of it, just something that wasn’t (too) painful to share that connected his past with his mother and his present, at least until he’d returned with the Ravens from defeating the Jackals on their own court the following Thursday night/Friday morning to find two sleek new vehicles in the parking lot.

Bren had to tell him and Jean that they were Maserati GranTurismo Sports since they knew nothing about cars (expensive cars at that – well, Neil _did_ know how to steal them, but he didn’t bother learning anything about their make and model), and it wasn’t until Neil was at the mansion later on Friday that he found out (had confirmed) that Ichirou was behind everything.

“ _Your uncle mentioned that you were having some… difficulties with the cars_ ,” Ichirou said, his lips twisted into a ghost of a wry smile.

“ _So you decide to exchange the sedans for sports cars. Interesting logic there_ ,” Neil remarked as he pushed aside his dessert, a strawberry sponge cake. “ _Are you angry with us? Did we do something wrong_?” he asked, only partially joking.

Ichirou’s smile strengthened. “ _Somehow, I think you’ll adapt, especially after finding out about some of your adventures in Europe_.” Neil stilled at the thought of some of those close escapes, of driving on dark roads with no lights on at breakneck speeds to avoid his father’s men, his hands clenched on the steering wheel he could barely see above while his mother watched behind to make sure they weren’t being followed (and to shoot at anyone who did), at learning to drift and control slide and not stall out a car when most children were learning to write essays in school. “ _Thank you, my lord_ ,” he managed to say in a steady voice after a few seconds. “ _Would you want to help teach Jean how to drive it_?”

That made Ichirou laugh as he motioned for Neil to come over. “ _Somehow, I think Stuart and Masato might have something to say about that_ ,” Ichirou said as Neil settled on his lap. “ _Wear your seatbelt, Nathaniel, and it should be a fun adventure_.”

“ _Having balls thrown at my head is a ‘fun adventure’_ ,” Neil grumbled. “ _Being trapped in a hunk of metal with over four hundred and fifty horsepower with Jean behind the wheel? **That’s** suicide_.” He continued to grumble a little while Ichirou kissed him. “ _I’ll make Marley teach him_.”

“ _Such a clever young man_ ,” Ichirou murmured as his hands slid beneath Neil’s sweater.

Not really, but Neil was at least good at making do with what he was dealt after such a fucked-up life.

“A Maserati GranTurismo Sport,” Andrew said, his voice utterly lacking any inflection yet Neil knew his friend wasn’t pleased at the moment. “Ichirou gave the two of you Maseratis. I hate you both.”

“Ah, okay.” Neil glanced over at Bren, who was sneaking some whisky, and shrugged. “It’s not like we’ll get to drive them that much, considering our schedule and everything.”

“Shut up, you’re only making it worse, Josten.”

“Oh.” Wait, didn’t Andrew have some sort of sports car? Did he like cars? He was out driving in one sometimes during their calls. “If it makes you feel any better, Jean’s probably going to crash his very soon.”

“No, it doesn’t, and I _hate_ you. It’s such a waste.”

Neil smiled at that and let his friend ramble on about torque and horsepower and stupid little birdies who were too addicted to Exy to even give a damn about it all.

Marley made sure to post pictures of them in Jean’s later that day and on Sunday, when they were back to teaching Jean how to drive (to not crash), and to send a couple off to Andrew. It was slow going and a bit frustrating… but Jean had a little more than a year before he was free of the Nest (never free entirely, though), and Neil wanted to give his friend this, to have Jean as prepared as possible for when he had to stand on his own.

Neil didn’t want to think about when _he_ had to stand on his own.

Jean finally got his one wish the following Thursday, when they drove to South Bend, Indiana for the second game against Notre Dame. By then it was appearing as if it would be the Big Three headed into the play-off seasons, with Knox excited each time he talked to Jean about them seeing each other soon and groaning about Penn State’s captain (Cavish) and how much of an ass he was in recent interviews. The Lions obviously felt the sting of being knocked out early last year and for some reason believed that they had a shot at winning the title.

Notre Dame put up a better fight the second time around, but they still lost, and poor Jean didn’t have time to drag Neil off to drown him in holy water due to their interview schedule (though Neil and Marley did manage to duck into the campus gift shop long enough for him to pick up Ichirou one of those weird leprechaun dolls), and then it was back to Charleston. By Friday night it was clear that it would indeed be the Big Three in the semi-finals, which made the fans happy.

While they waited for the game schedule to come out, Neil and the team concentrated on their classes as much as possible in-between practice, and were relieved to know that everyone they’d extended offers to join the Ravens had accepted. Several promising recruits would start in the early summer, recruits Neil would be in part responsible for, which meant he’d have a lot of work ahead of him soon.

Penn State would play at Edgar Allan for the first game, then USC at Penn State, followed by Edgar Allan at USC. Depending on how the Penn State and USC game had gone, there could be a follow up game at USC between the two teams, but Neil was willing to bet that the final game wouldn’t be needed and there would be an additional off week before the Trojans and Ravens faced off at Edgar Allan. According to the posts and bets being placed online, so did most of the fans.

Nick Cavish spent the week leading up to the Lions’ game with the Ravens talking trash about Jean and the Ravens, belittling his fellow captain and calling attention to all the changes which had happened to the team in the past year. He even brought up Neil’s injury on court and his reaction to being pinned down, mocking Neil for being ‘too delicate’ and warning him that he better get used to being laid out in a game like that.

Neil waited until the pre-game interview on Friday to respond, and that was to give a shadow of his father’s smile in front of the cameras. “So nice to see that the Lions got their act together this year, isn’t it? Not that it’ll do them much good, considering that some teams are rising fast and not just treading water, but we’ve got a game to play soon so I’ll keep this short. Cavish thinks that we don’t know what we’re doing? He thinks that dumb luck got us this far? That’s going to make it _so_ much worse when he gets his ass kicked, don’t you think? Because that’s what’s going to happen – a delicate little snowflake and an inexperienced fool of a captain are going to take his ‘winners’ down. And we’re going to do it because each and every one of us have busted our ass this year, just like we have every year we’ve been out on court. We’re _Ravens_ , it’s what we do.”

Beside him, Jean gave a curt sniff. “ _You’re_ the fool.”

Neil rolled his eyes at that. “Whatever, _captain_.”

“Better.”

Take them down was exactly what the Ravens did; they were used to being doubted that season, to hearing how they weren’t the same without Riko and with Tetsuji fading out, but Cavish’s slander had lit a new fire in them, especially with the championship title so close. Also, it was a chance for players like Avery and Karl and Ben to prove themselves, while for ones like Susan and Amy to make one last mark before they left.

Neil did get slammed around a lot but he didn’t fall, didn’t let Cavish or any other of the Lions knock him to the floor or take him out even though his body ached by the end of the game and he could see Noguchi debate pulling him early from some quarters. It was worth it when the Lions’ frustration grew and the red cards racked up, as the Ravens continued to score and their defense blocked the other team from doing the same.

The Lions were denied their win, one of two, and had to go home in defeat as Evermore burst into the roar of celebration, the Ravens’ theme song pounding into the air as their fans clapped and stomped and yelled at their victory. Neil allowed Marley, Susan and even Avery to hug him before they formed the ‘good game’ line, well aware that after a quick post-game interview that Bren was waiting in the locker room to take him up to the West Tower.

By then all of Ichirou’s ‘guests’ had left, so Neil didn’t have to translate that evening, just deal with his lord who was in a pensive mood. That meant extra effort on his part, meant rethinking everything before he spoke it until they finally retired to the small bedroom, where he did his best to distract Ichirou from whatever was bothering him, to make him feel better in one way or another.

“ _Three more years_ ,” Ichirou mused aloud as Neil pulled on his clothes before he could return to his room. “ _It’ll be odd to be here after you graduate, but then you’ll be in New York more often_.”

Neil shrugged as he smoothed down his shirt. “ _I hope to be back here one day for Court_.”

“ _You will, Nathaniel_.” For once it didn’t sound like a threat but a promise; Ichirou reached out to run his fingers through Neil’s hair then pulled him in for a passionate kiss. “ _You will, because nothing holds you back_.”

Nothing but promises and debts and lives held in the balance, but Neil knew better than to mention those things, so he smiled and wished his lord a good night before he left.

“You know… I just don’t understand why you Foxes have such a difficult time beating Penn State,” he told Andrew the next day, when he was done with practice and working out. “They certainly don’t give us Ravens any problems. Is it a goth thing?”

“A _lazy_ goth thing,” Marley reminded him from across the room.

“Both of you can go to hell,” Andrew declared, annoyed enough for it to show in his deep voice.

“Hmm, soon enough, driving lessons resume after this call,” Neil said, which got him a light smack on the side of his head from his partner, whom he leaned against; Jean was busy texting on his phone, probably with Knox. “You know, in that nice and shiny Maserati.”

Andrew hung up on him. (There was a text a minute later telling him to call back when the ‘pests’ weren’t around.)

He and Andrew talked about the upcoming summer break and their plans for it – Andrew wanted to spend as little time as possible on an Exy court, which was tricky because of Day.

“Hey, can you do something for me?”

Neil frowned at the question. “That depends.” Andrew knew that he was restricted by… well, he was restricted by a lot of things. He had a chain around his neck (literally and figuratively) and anything that went against his debt to Ichirou was off-limits.

Andrew clicked his tongue as if disappointed by something. “Relax, little bird, I’m not trying to ruffle any feathers. I just want you to send me that letter Moreau’s holding over Kevin.”

“Oh.” Neil bit into his bottom lip as he thought about that. “Why?”

“Because Kevin’s been working up the nerve to tell Wymack the truth this summer, and I think it’ll help him if he has it, both to bolster his spine and to show Coach that he’s not kidding.”

“Oh,” Neil repeated. “Okay. Let me talk to Jean, but I don’t think it’ll be a problem.” While he might not care for Day much in general (he still believed that the striker could have done more to protect Jean), he knew that his friend was a bit more conflicted about his old teammate and had only intended to use the letter to protect Neil.

As for Neil, he imagined that this break would be much like the last, except with less stressful practices. He and Jean would spend time in New York for their endorsement campaigns, but not all of it. Then they’d be back at Edgar Allan for Exy.

He could only hope that most of it would be spent on Exy.

Jean pushed the team to be ready for their game against USC, all too aware that the Trojans had improved their playing strategy after last year. If any team was going to be a threat to the Ravens, it was going to be the Trojans.

“This is the strongest the team has ever been,” Jean explained as they prepared for their flight to Southern California. “They learned to play longer and harder, to do more with less players like the Foxes, and they want to win a title before Jeremy graduates.” He rubbed the back of his neck as he stared off at nothing. “We can’t hold back.”

“I didn’t realize that we did,” Marley said as she finished packing her duffel bag.

“No, he’s right.” Neil put in a spare pair of socks before he zipped his bag closed. “We don’t assume that we’ll win, and we treat this game as if it’s the final.”

“Yes, exactly.”

“Okay then, we kick Surfer Boy butt.” Marley nodded as she picked up her bag, so they could head out to the bus which would take them to the airport.

Jeremy Knox was as obnoxiously chipper as always, especially when he caught sight of a suddenly stoic Jean. “ _Surfer Boy and Crusty, reunited at last_ ,” Marley sang out in French beneath her breath. “ _So romantic_.”

“ _Not the word I’d used_ ,” Neil murmured back. “ _More like… disturbing_.” He cringed at Knox’s bright smile and eager attempt to make Jean smile in return, their interaction awkward and halting. Yet Jean didn’t step back from the striker, didn’t cringe or find an excuse to walk away, he stood there with a slight sneer on his lips and fired off one barbed comment after another which only made Knox laugh and smile even more.

Knox was a besotted idiot.

It finally came to an end when a grinning Alverez approached her captain to remind him that they needed to finish preparing for the game and all but dragged Knox away with her, his gaze locked on Jean the whole time.

“ _When’s the wedding_?” Marley asked after Jean rejoined them.

He gave her an even look for several seconds before he turned to Neil. “ _How far is the ocean_?”

“Eh?” Marley stared at him in confusion then looked at Neil as if he would explain everything, which Neil ignored as he went over to the freshmen to make sure they knew what was expected of them for the game.

It wasn’t a surprise when the Trojans proved more of a challenge than the Lions, when the game started out a struggle to keep them away from the Ravens’ goal and to get past the Trojans’ admirable defense. Knox, Alverez, Carroll, Price and Dermott were out on court for most of the game as expected since they were the team’s most experienced players (and all but one of them would be graduating at the end of the season), which worked for and against the Ravens.

Against, because they were all excellent players and almost a match for them – _almost_. Neil didn’t think it was pride or misplaced ego to say that the Ravens were better, as it was a matter of drive, of being willing to sacrifice so much, of putting the game before everything. He didn’t know what it was that had made Tetsuji recruit Susan for the Ravens and not Dermott, but Susan was the one who had given up her summers and almost all her other breaks to put in long days out on court, had risked a sadist’s wrath to perfect her blocks. The Ravens weren’t just about skill but dedication.

The Trojans’ new strategy worked for the Ravens because of that same dedication – they didn’t just work out on court but they studied their opponents as well. They knew their game plays by heart and those of the teams they’d face against in order to take advantage of any opportunity which presented itself and having a smaller amount of players on court for a longer amount of time meant less variables.

It still wasn’t an easy game because the Trojans were just that good, were the second-best team in the NCAA league for a reason, but the Ravens won in the end. Neil found himself exhausted when the buzzer sounded at the end of the fourth quarter yet wished that they could continue to play and looked forward to the championship game in a few weeks. There was no doubt in his mind that the Trojans would trounce the Lions next week.

Both he and Alverez had to clear their throats in a loud manner to get Knox to let go of Jean’s hands when the teams were lined up, with the backliner flashing him a wry grin when they shook hands a moment later. “ _Thanks for helping out_ ,” she told him in Spanish while motioning to her captain. “ _We were getting tired of him mooning over Moreau all these years_.”

“Uhm….” Neil frowned and cocked his head to the side. “ _Is it more than that_?”

Alverez laughed at the question. “ _They’re talking, right? It’s something, at least. Jeremy’s not going to give up now, fair warning_.” Her smile faltered a little when he didn’t say something. “ _It **is** all right, isn’t it_?”

Neil thought about how Jean had reacted earlier, how he hadn’t pulled away from Knox at all. “ _I think so_ ,” he told her before he moved on, and caught the wide smile she shared with Dermott.

Jean was free of the Nest in a year, was on his own. Granted, Neil would be joining him a year later, but he’d need someone, he _deserved_ someone. Even if Knox was with the San Francisco Sea Lions, he would cross paths with Jean now and then because of them both being on pro teams, would be more available than Neil with his classes and own games and obligation to Ichirou.

Neil would have to talk to Susan, who’d be on the same team as Knox. He wanted Jean to be happy, and it appeared that Knox wanted the same thing, too.

If not… well, all it would take was a call to Stuart.

The press appeared disappointed when Neil didn’t insult or tear into the Trojans, but why would he? The team had played well and they were all upstanding players, were on track to win the Kayleigh Day Spirit award yet again that year. He _did_ comment on how he looked forward to watching them beat Penn State next week, though, and seeing USC at Evermore for the final game.

The Ravens gathered in the largest lounge a week later, so they could watch the Trojans/Lions game, with Noguchi treating them to snacks (sashimi and sushi trays, veggie wraps and frozen yogurt – Andrew sent several green-faced emojis in response to Neil’s excited text about the spread) so they could have a fun night of it. It was a rare jovial mood among the team as they sat with their plates and bowls of food, relaxed and not on guard (like last year) to watch Penn State get their ass kicked while making mental note of just _how_ USC did that.

“So a wild party at the Nest is a bunch of whole grains and raw fish. And people wonder why I turned down the Ravens,” Andrew said in a droll tone when they talked on Saturday.

“You turned down the Ravens because you can spot a psychopath from ten miles away,” Neil countered. “But yeah, we don’t pollute our bodies like you Foxes do and actually _win_ games. Go figure.”

Andrew was quiet for a few seconds. “You _do_ realize that there’s more to life than winning some stupid stickball game, don’t you?” When Neil didn’t respond, he sighed. “Of _course_ you don’t, you junkie.”

“Is that a slander against me or something?” Neil asked, doubtful of his friend’s answer.

“I’m just amazed that you can see the ball well enough to catch it,” Andrew drawled, “you can be that blind.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my eyesight,” Neil insisted.

“Yeah, your _eyesight_.”

Neil frowned at that odd bit of emphasis. “Okay, glad we agree on that.”

He didn’t know why Andrew hung up that time.

As expected, the ERC didn’t make the Trojans and the Ravens play each other again in the semi-finals after the Lions were eliminated, especially since it would have meant the Trojans playing for a few weeks back to back. Both teams got a two week break to prepare for the big game, which was fine with Neil.

It gave him (and the rest of the Ravens) a chance to wrap up their classes for the semester, to finish all papers and projects (he would miss Japanese, considering it had become a blow-off class for him). Edgar Allan was once more in a frenzy for the championship game, the campus festooned with banners and posters everywhere, the students dressed in black and red (and a good many of them wearing Jean’s and Neil’s jerseys).

The press was everywhere, too, apparently to record Tetsuji’s ‘historic’ last game. The old prick was out on court during practice as stoic as ever while Noguchi did the real work (and didn’t get any credit for the fact that he’d been coaching them for the championship season), and Neil looked forward to when he stepped out into Evermore and wouldn’t have to see that detested face anymore. He (and Jean) would always be Moriyama property, would always bear the scars that Riko had inflicted on them, would always have the nightmares ingrained into them (and other Ravens as well), but at least they could move on without Tetsuji in their lives.

Having the press there meant that there was another night spent out at the mansion with Ichirou where he and Neil discussed the couple of weeks before summer training began. As expected, Neil and Jean would spend them in New York City, partially working on endorsement deals but also being allowed some free time to themselves.

For a moment Neil fantasized about Andrew joining him in the city, of them wandering around an art gallery together or finding some quiet place to eat and talk… but it was just a silly dream. Andrew would be busy with his family and Day, and if Ichirou found out…. Yes, a silly and dangerous dream.

At least he could talk to Andrew on the phone, to tease him about being lazy and putting up with Day who was determined that the Foxes would do much better next season and anxious about revealing the truth to Wymack in a few more weeks.

It was still a difficult concept for Neil to grasp, to want to forge a relationship with one’s father, to bring him into your life when you didn’t have to do it, when you could move on without that tie. Wymack seemed like a good man based on what he’d done for Meg and the Foxes and how he’d already helped Day… but people thought that Tetsuji was a good man, too, and still mourned Riko.

The day of the final game arrived, and the Ravens were as prepared as ever to face the Trojans for the title, to prove that they would move on without Riko. Noguchi had spent hours going over USC’s line-up and past strategies (that season’s and previous ones) until Neil felt that he knew them as well as the Ravens’, until all he wanted as the game over with and they could move on.

He was tired of hearing about the previous championship game, about Riko’s breakdown, about how the Trojans would take advantage of the fact that ‘the king’ was gone, about… about everything. The Ravens would go out on that court soon enough and prove once and for all how they didn’t need Riko (or Tetsuji) to win, to be the best. They would finally come out of the shadows of monsters and show their own worth, show the world that all the pain and blood and sacrifice had been worth it.

There was no other choice, really. Neil and Jean had their obligations, had the numbers tattooed on their cheeks and the invisible chains wearing them down, but Susan and Avery and Karl and Ben and the others had their own reasons for fighting to their last breath out there on that hard wood floor, too. Perhaps the newer Ravens would lay claim to the name without any scars, without giving up too much of themselves, but perfection never came without cost.

For all that Tetsuji was a sadistic bastard whom didn’t care about breaking the people in his care (Riko being a prime example), he did demand and pull forth perfection – at a cost. A very high cost.

Which was why the Ravens would beat the Trojans, because they refused to let that cost be for nothing.

Knox was once more all smiles when he came over to talk to Jean – captain to captain, supposedly – though there was an assessing gleam in his eyes. “I can never get over all the black here. Don’t you ever want to… I don’t know, lighten things up?”

“No,” Jean told him with a stern look. “There’s no need to make it look a garish bordello, like _some_ stadiums.”

“ _Ooh, point to Crusty_ ,” Marley murmured while Neil bit into his bottom lip.

Knox’s expression became bemused as he tugged on the front of his jersey. “Okay, I _have_ to get you out drinking one night to ask about that whole ‘bordello’ thing. And yeah, we’re a little bright.”

“A _little_?”

Knox winced at Jean’s incredulous tone. “I may be looking forward to being a Sea Lion, it’ll be easier on the eyes, but come on, you guys need to give up on all the black a little.” He grinned at Jean and sighed when he was met with silence. “Or maybe not.”

Jean gave him a bland look for a couple of seconds before relenting. “Speaking of Sea Lions… Susan will be joining you in San Francisco.” Knox nodded at that, his good mood quickly restored. “I would… appreciate it if you would assist her in acclimating to the team.”

“Eh?” Knox’s gaze shifted from Jean to Neil and Marley then back as his smile softened. “Ah, yeah, I imagine she’ll have a bit of trouble being there without a partner and all. Don’t worry, us rookies will need to stick together, right? I’ll give you regular updates on how she’s doing, I promise.”

“ _And Surfer Boy rebounds fast, that was smooth_.” Marley nodded in approval at how Knox found a way to stay in contact with Jean.

“ _He does think fast on his feet_ ,” Neil agreed as he noted that Jean didn’t argue with Knox continuing to call him. “ _That said, it’s gonna be fun to watch Jean knock him off them soon enough_.”

“ _Oh yeah, Surfer Boy is going down!_ ” Marley grinned for a couple of seconds then winced. “ _Forget I said that_.”

“ _Agreed_.” Neil hoped for once that Ichirou had some whisky waiting for him up in the West Tower after that comment.

It finally came time for the game to start, and as soon as Sophie fired the ball down the court (the Ravens won the coin toss), the action didn’t stop – in part because the Trojans played in such a manner that they didn’t bring out any red cards and almost no yellow cards on their part. Neil and the others had to be careful with their ‘tricks’ as a result of that fair play and the extra scrutiny from all of the cameras on them, though the action was so fast that he didn’t have much of a chance to trip up Knox or Alverez or any other Trojan.

It was exhilarating as well as frightening, playing a game so close as that; the Trojans had learned from the last time they’d met on court and adjusted their plays a little, did their best to confuse the Ravens enough to get past their defense. However, Jean, Leif, Mike and the others were the best at guarding the goal while Susan was the second-best goalie in the league (Ben and Ethan weren’t far behind her, well aware that it fell on their shoulders to replace her next season).

While the defensive line kept the Trojans at bay, Neil, Avery, Marley and the rest of the Ravens’ offense continued their assault on the Trojans’ goal. USC might have worked to develop their own endurance after last season, but the Ravens were used to long days of practice, of being out on court until they collapsed and then getting back up. The recent breaks had only allowed them time to recover, to recoup and hadn’t weakened them at all, so Neil could push past the growing exhaustion and burn in his muscles to run faster while his opponents began to tire.

At one point in the third quarter the game was tied, and crowd went wild when Avery scored the point that put the Ravens back in the lead. Noguchi had Neil go back out on court at the end of the quarter, him and Marley, to finish out the game, and the two of them pushed to maintain the lead while the Trojans threw the last of their reserve players at them.

Neil grinned when Jean snatched the ball away from Carroll and threw it against the wall, the rebound landing neatly in Amy’s racquet, and twisted around to avoid Alverez just in time to catch Amy’s throw while Marley distracted the Trojan dealer long enough for him to score another point against Dermott (she was good, but not as good as Andrew or Susan). That was the last goal of the game, but it was enough for the Ravens to win by three points against the Trojans, which was all that mattered.

There were looks of disappointment on the other team’s faces when the buzzer sounded, but they still congratulated the Ravens out on the court and showed no acronymity as they pulled off their helmets or groaned in exhaustion. “Dammit, I thought we had a chance this year,” Alverez told Neil as she staggered over to him. “We were so close.”

He gave a slight shrug, aware that it was her last year and not really sympathetic about the whole thing; for her team to win, his had to lose.

 He wasn’t about to go face Ichirou and explain why the Ravens had lost, to risk his lord’s ‘disappointment’, just because someone had hoped to end their collegiate career on a ‘win’.

The stadium was pandemonium around them, was waving banners and even bits of black and red confetti in the air, was the floor beneath his feet reverberating from fans stomping their own. It was difficult to hear the Trojans congratulating them during the line-up, but all that mattered to Neil was the proud smiles on his teammates’ faces, was the relief he could see on Jean’s, the lack of tension in that tall, lean body when his partner stood next to him.

They’d won and proven to everyone that they were more than Riko, a cruel king dead and gone. They’d proven their worth to the lord watching up in the tower, their value increased (for the time being). Another championship banner would hang in the stadium, one more title to the Ravens’ name.

One more year down.

One more year closer to Jean leaving.

One more year closer to Neil graduating. To him living where Ichirou told him to live, to him playing for the team Ichirou owned, to there being even less illusion of his life being his own.

All around him were people cheering and celebrating, but it was all Neil could do to force a smile on his lips.

*******

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *******  
> FINALLY. We get to the end of year two!!! How many friggen words, and year two is at an end. I know I keep saying this, but time jumps for year three. There's some stuff I want to address (most of it at the start of the year), but I'm not gonna focus on the entire year. At most, do something like moosh a good bit of the year into a chapter or two. 
> 
> We really need to get to year four, people....
> 
> As always, many thanks for the comments and kudos! (which yeah, a little behind on, between this chapter and setting up the new laptop - OMFG nothing's crashed yet!!!!)
> 
> That said, no new fic prompts posted, but here's the links still:
> 
> [nekojitachan](http://nekojitachan.tumblr.com) and [writing stuff](http://nekojitachan.tumblr.com/tagged/nekojitachanfics))


	20. Black Mire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter... with the championship season and all, Neil pushes himself too hard worrying about the Ravens winning and Jean making a good showing as Captain (the pressure from Ichirou on the two of them isn't helping any) and makes himself sick. He's injured (not seriously) in a game and comes down with a fever, and Ichirou visits him at the Nest - only to find him wearing Andrew's present (the Foxes sweatshirt w/ Andrew's number). Ichirou's jealousy/possessiveness shows just a little. The sweatshirt disappears... and shows up at PSU, along with Ichirou, as he pays Andrew a visit to tell Andrew that Kevin is free to pick his own pro team upon graduation as long as he pays an appropriate 'tithe' to the Moriyamas (oh, and yeah, Neil is Ichirou's).  
> Basically.  
> Andrew manages (barely) not to do anything stupid during that conversation.  
> The Ravens continue to advance through the playoffs, but the Foxes just so happen to face two of the top teams and are eliminated after the death matches.  
> Neil confesses to Andrew that he can't keep dealing with Ichirou unless he has Andrew 'there'.  
> Andrew asks Neil to send him the letter where Kayleigh confesses that Wymack is Kevin's father so Kevin can finally tell Wymack the truth that summer.  
> Jean asks Jeremy to watch over one of the Ravens since they'll be on the same pro team after graduation, and Jeremy agrees - it's a way for them to stay in touch moving forward.  
> And the Ravens win another championship game.  
> Those were the highlights!
> 
> Now, on to this chapter. I'll warn you that this deals with some dark topics (nothing explicit goes on here), so I'll say past trigger warnings are in place. Basically it brings up topics that have happened in previous (especially earlier) chapters. See the note in the end as I discuss things, and you can always ping me at my tumblr - [nekojitachan](http://nekojitachan.tumblr.com).
> 
> And always, much thanks to Fall-for-the-Game for the beta!

*******

“Another year down, another year closer to the ‘real world’, whatever _that_ is,” Marley remarked as she sprawled out on her bed in their room. “I mean, I’ll be so happy to leave the Nest behind, but let’s face it, it’s still going to be dietician’s plans and regular workouts and traveling all over the place and sore muscles all the time. Not much of a difference, yeah?”

“You could always drop out and be a doctor like your mother,” Neil offered – _Marley_ could. She had the option to do whatever she wanted with her life, unlike some of them.

“Oh _hell no_ ,” she said with obvious disgust. “I’ve heard enough horror stories about how hard it was getting that degree and then being an intern and her first few years as a resident. And she still takes some crap, being a woman and South Asian at that. Nope, having Maddie follow in her footsteps is bad enough, and Maddie’s smart enough to go into research where she doesn’t have to deal with living people so much.” Marley grinned as she sat up. “I much prefer being able to beat up people on the court, thanks.”

Jean paused in unpacking to give first her then Neil a disgusted look. “I am ashamed to know you both.”

“Why am I dragged into this?” Neil asked; he’d unpack the things he’d brought back from New York (that Ichirou had bought for him) later.

“Because you’ve obviously corrupted her.”

“Hey! She was like that from the beginning,” Neil declared while Marley laughed.

Neil and Jean had spent the Ravens’ two weeks summer ‘vacation’ in New York City once again, some of it relaxing and some of it ‘working’. Much of Neil’s evenings had been with Ichirou in the penthouse while Jean was off a couple of nights with the Barons, getting to know his future team – the official signing would take place over winter break. There had been the usual marketing campaigns, for which Marley had flown in to the city the last couple of days, along with Avery.

Ichirou was pleased with the Ravens’ growing popularity, with how they had ‘overcome’ such adversity in the past year and were increasing their fan-base with a stronger women line-up. Neil’s candid and often acerbic interviews had proven popular, too, and the combination of him and Jean as the new ‘faces’ of the Ravens were somehow more accessible than Riko’s polished smugness and Day’s smiling superiority.

The only thing Neil could think of was that people were amused by him insulting the press back and the way that he and Jean would bicker with each other during the interviews, as well as Marley’s devil-may-care-attitude whenever she took part.

They were back at the Nest to resume practice (normal days, at least) ahead of the upcoming season, with Tetsuji officially gone and Noguchi in charge of the team. Considering that Susan, Sophie and Amy (and Johnson, not that he’d been that active the last few games) were gone and that they’d be losing Jean, Avery, Karl and Loiseau next spring… they needed to make sure that last year’s freshmen and this year’s batch were up to the challenge that the rest of the division would throw at the Ravens.

Neil did his best not to think about the countdown to Jean’s graduation.

Noguchi started off summer practice by making everyone ‘fight’ for the starting line-up positions and rank, which ruffled a few feathers (dammit, Neil swore that Andrew’s stupid bird analogies were infectious) while pleasing others. In the end, though, it didn’t change things too much: Jean and Leif were still starting backliners, Neil and Avery starting strikers (though Marley did come close and was now number 15 to Avery’s 13), Ben was starting goalie… and the big upset was that Ethan was the other starting goalie. His fellow classmates (now sophomores) cheered his promotion while Ren glowered a little about being ‘demoted’… but there wasn’t much he could do when Noguchi’s decision was final.

Naomi was the defensive dealer (the only one left on the team), and Cal was the more experienced offensive dealer. Neil thought that he appeared rather vindicated at the decision, considering everything the poor guy had been put through with Riko and Tetsuji.

The team had a couple of weeks to acclimate to the changed line-up, to the now sophomores taking their place out on court and the loss of the upperclassmen, before the freshmen arrived as well as their new assistant coach, Dan Wilds. At least most of them were used to the pressure of always trying for new spots in the line-up, of always pushing forward and striving for perfection.

Without the struggle of doing all of that while dealing with sixteen-hour days, constant exhaustion and Tetsuji’s abuse, they could focus better on Noguchi’s demanding practices; he was tough and quick to point out any mistakes, but he didn’t physically touch them and his criticism was accurate and never demeaning. He made them want to get better without tearing them down.

“I keep waiting for something to happen,” Neil admitted to Andrew on one of their calls. “It doesn’t seem real. I’ll be in the middle of practice and look around for Tetsuji to show up with his cane in hand or… or _something_.”

Andrew was quiet for a moment, save for the slow exhale of his breath. “You’ve got issues.”

“What else is new?”

“True. Still, I think you’re good on this one,” Andrew assured him. “Especially with how much of a fuss the press made with him packing his bags and leaving Edgar Allan for Japan.”

“Yeah.” Neil closed his eyes and rested back against Jean’s knees, and managed a faint smile at the feel of his partner’s fingers combing through his hair. “Anyway, just a few more days until Wilds arrives.”

“Lucky you, your turn to put up with her for a couple of years.” Andrew sounded almost amused by that fact.

“Thanks. So, how’re things going down South? You pass out yet from wearing all that black in the heat?”

After Andrew told him to fuck off, Neil was updated on Day’s latest plan to confess to Wymack the truth and how Andrew was almost grateful to spend so much time at court since it meant he didn’t have to listen to his brother or cousin Skype with their respective ‘significant others’ for half the day.

Dan Wilds showed up on June 1st, as Ichirou had told Neil earlier in the year, dressed in black khakis and a black and red polo shirt bearing the Ravens’ logo. She appeared a little uncomfortable in the outfit as she stood out on court with her arms crossed over her chest, next to Noguchi and Nakamura (with Masato in the background) while Noguchi had the team line up and call out their names and number.

“This is Dan Wilds,” Noguchi explained once they were done. “You know her as the Palmetto State Foxes’ former captain, but as of today she is one of my assistant coaches and you’ll treat her with all of the respect due to that position.” His attention seemed to linger on Loiseau while he spoke. “Is that understood?”

“Yes, Coach,” the Ravens called out in unison, which made Wilds blink in surprise.

“She’ll spend the next day or two acclimating to the Nest, and you will answer any of her questions. Is that understood?”

“Yes, Coach.”

Neil thought that Wilds now appeared a bit spooked by everything, though she attempted to quickly school her expression. As for Noguchi, he nodded once and then ordered half the team to work on drills while the rest grabbed their racquets for a scrimmage.

It was clear that Wilds wanted to say something at the intense session which left Neil out of breath and his ribs smarting from him and Avery taking on Karl and Toby, from Loiseau and Lee knocking them around just shy of red cards. When it was time for rest of the team to practice, Wilds waved Neil over to where she was standing.

“All right, is it always like that? You guys going at each other like it’s a deathmatch?” She studied him while he swiped at the sweat trickling down his face.

“Yeah.” He frowned as he wiped his hand dry on his jersey. “I mean, we’re not trying to kill each other,” mostly, “but it’s how we get better. We don’t hold anything back and push when we’re out here so we’re ready when it comes to the other teams.”

Wilds shook her head. “You do this every day?”

“Yeah,” Neil repeated. “We’re always practicing and this is a big part of it.”

“ _Every day_?” When he nodded, she laughed, the sound faint and short. “No wonder Kevin was so disappointed in us and always complaining that we didn’t try enough.”

Neil shrugged at that. “I know _Andrew_ could try some more.” At her curious look, he took to fiddling with his racquet. “I mean… he’s always with Day at court and never does anything.”

“Well, he’s Matt’s and Meg’s problem now, not mine. I get to figure out you guys.” Wilds laughed again, that time sounding a little more amused. “I think the trick is going to be keeping you from pushing _too_ hard, if anything.”

“Uhm… that’s… that’s not _possible_ ,” Neil argued. “We have to be the best, we can’t stop pushing.” They couldn’t risk failing – _he_ couldn’t risk failing. It wasn’t an option for him and Jean, and somehow he didn’t think players like Avery and Marley and Ben would give up, either.

Now Wilds’ expression was a bit pitying for some reason. “You’re _just_ like Kevin. Are all of you the same?”

Neil’s back stiffened at the comparison. “I’m _nothing_ like Day,” he spat before he stalked away, and it wasn’t until he was back at Jean’s side that he realized that he’d talked back to an assistant coach.

“ _What’s wrong_?” Jean asked, able to see past the blank mask Neil wore at once. “ _Did she say something_?”

“ _It’s… she said I’m like **Day**_ ,” he admitted after a few seconds. “ _I’m not_.” He didn’t abandon his friends, didn’t look for others to protect him because he was useless.

Jean was quiet for a moment before he nudged Neil in the side. “ _I think she meant you’re similar in that you’re an Exy fanatic_. _You both take this ridiculous game too seriously_.”

“Oh.” Neil thought about that a little then ducked his head. “ _Oh, I guess… I guess it was a compliment_?”

“ _For you fanatics, yes_ ,” Jean told him with a smile, which made Neil duck his head again then glance at Wilds through his bangs. He was relieved to notice that she was smiling while she looked at him.

Wilds spent the day walking around and speaking to all of the players as if trying to get to know them; she talked to Jean and Marley, and ate her meals with the team. She even had a room in the Nest, though Marley said that Wilds had confided in her that she’d spent the past week setting up a place near campus with the help of her boyfriend, Matt Boyd.

“She said that she’ll probably spend some nights here and then a couple there, along with the weekends,” Marley explained. “The job’s pretty intensive but I get the impression the perks are good.” She gave Neil a pointed look as her fork hovered over his pile of kale.

“I wouldn’t know, that’s not something I speak to Ichirou about,” he admitted. “And let’s face it, I’m not going to come out and ask him.” No, Neil was careful about what topics he raised with his ‘lover’, mindful that he was there for Ichirou’s amusement if he wasn’t put to work translating. That meant a minimum of questions, just the right amount of teasing, a little distraction, and then sex.

Marley gazed at him for a couple of seconds before she shrugged and scooped up the damn kale. “Fair enough. Do we want to offer to take her out this weekend? Something nice as a ‘welcome to the team’ thing?”

Neil pushed his plate of fish and rice aside while Bren cleared his throat. “ _I’ll be with Ichirou this weekend_.” The text had come through earlier and he hadn’t wanted to say anything with Wilds being there. “ _But go ahead, it sounds like fun_ ,” he continued in French while he attempted to smile.

“Shorty….” Marley looked as if she wanted to say something then shook her head, while Jean pushed the plate back in front of Neil.

“ _What will- why is he here_?”

Neil put his napkin over his plate, unable to look at the food any longer despite the concern on Jean’s face. “ _I don’t know, I just do what I’m told_ ,” he said while doing his best to keep the bitterness out of his voice. That’s what property did, after all, meekly obeyed orders, were good little boys who went where they were told and said ‘yes, my lord’ and let their owners _touch_ them and-

He started when he felt a hand on his shoulder, the butter knife in his grip before he realized what he was doing, and only Bren grabbing his wrist kept him from swinging it at Dan Wilds as she stood near him with a stunned expression on her face.

“Uhm… I-“

“Yeah, still got good reflexes there, Red,” Bren said, his voice a little too loud and cheerful as he patted Neil on the shoulder while tugging the knife free from Neil’s hand. “Good to see you keep up on that self-defense stuff.”

“Right, I’m sure that’s what it was.” Wilds gave Bren a disbelieving look before she glanced around the table and went to sit down in one of the empty chairs; while she did that, Jean handed Neil his orange and told him to eat while Marley texted on her phone. “I’m beginning to see why you and Andrew get along.”

Neil gave her a blank look while he peeled the orange, which only made her huff. “Yeah, definitely seeing it. Okay, Captain and Vice-captain, I’m hoping to spend a little extra time with the two of you to get a good feel of the team and how you do things here. What free time do you have so we can work that out?”

Jean looked over at Neil who shrugged. “We were just discussing that,” Jean explained. “Our days are a bit full-“

“But you’re done after dinner, right?”

Everyone at the table, even Bren and Janna, shook their heads. “We have practice after dinner,” Marley told Wilds as she put her phone aside. “The three of us, Avery, Ben, and the sophomores since they’ll be playing more than a few minutes in the games this fall.”

“Every night?”

“Each weeknight,” Neil clarified. “We,” meaning him, “are to rest on the weekends, so we only have the one practice in the morning and then our workout.”

“Okay. Wow, you really are… are devoted to Exy, aren’t you? All of you.” Wilds grinned as she sat back in her chair, her eyes widening again when Brian and Theresa arrived carrying a mug of tea and a bowl of strawberries, respectively. “Huh?”

“Here you go,” Brian said as he set the bowl down by Neil. “Anything else?”

“No,” Neil sighed as he gave a smug Marley a narrow look. “Just be grateful that you won’t have to do this stuff much longer once the rookies arrive.”

“No, no, it’s fine!” Theresa assured him while Brian nodded. “We’re always happy to help out, especially with how hard you work and train us.” She gave a slight wave before they left.

“Are you enjoying that?” Neil asked his friend. “Trying to figure out which freshman you’re going to take advantage of this year, hmm?”

“Oh, they just throw themselves at your feet, don’t you know, Shorty?” Marley told him with a grin, then rolled her eyes when he frowned at that odd statement.

“ _I think the flea’s having a mental breakdown or something_ ,” he said to Jean while picking up a strawberry, which prompted a slight smile from his partner.

“Okay, so what am I missing here?” Wilds asked Janna.

“There’s a… oh, I guess you can call it a pecking order? The freshmen must fetch things for those who have seniority or lower numbers, which means the sophomores for now until the new recruits arrive.” Janna grinned at Marley with undeserved affection. “ _Someone_ might enjoy that benefit a little, though to be fair, they never complain when she asks them to fetch things for Neil.”

“Probably because I don’t take advantage of them like she does,” Neil said.

“Right, that’s totally it.” Marley rolled her eyes again.

Wilds looked as if she was trying to smother a laugh for a couple of seconds before she rubbed at her face. “Okay, not what I expected.” She eyed Neil while he sipped the tea. “Now what about this weekend? Can we do something? Meet up at my place, maybe?”

And just like that, Neil wasn’t in the mood for the fruit, either. “Ah, you can work with Jean and Marley. I already have other plans.”

“Really? I thought you guys always stuck together.” Wilds glanced around the table in confusion. “And all weekend? Surely we can meet on Sunday or something?”

“No.” Neil felt the necklace heavy around his neck as he shook his head. “I leave Friday evening and will be gone until Monday morning.”

“But-“

Enough was enough. “It’s Moriyama business,” he told her in a voice devoid of all emotion, unwilling to draw the discussion out any further, “meaning that you don’t ask, you don’t question, and you don’t say anything else once I tell you that I’m not going to be here, do you understand?”

Wilds was taken aback at first then a sort of grim resolution settled on her face. “I get it. So what, everyone just turns a blind eye when you go off to do whatever? That part of why they wanted me here and not someone else?”

Neil gave her a sliver of his father’s smile. “Nice to see you catch on fast. A bit of advice, Wilds, focus on the rest of the team and don’t worry about me. I take care of myself.” He didn’t react when Jean gave a faint scoff.

“Somehow I’m left with a bit of doubt over that,” Wilds told him. “Else why are there these nice people sitting with you? These nice people whom I doubt know much of anything about Exy?”

“You’re not _listening_ ,” Neil said while Bren and Janna gave Wilds an assessing look. “Worrying about me isn’t going to do either of us any good, so don’t bother and remember that you’re here to coach Exy.”

“I’m here because I’ve experience dealing with troubled kids,” Wilds just had to go and say, still so stupidly earnest. “And Neil? You _reek_ of trouble. I’m here if you need any help or want to talk.”

“You’re used to dealing with _Foxes_.” Neil’s smile faded away as he stood up. “You’re so in over your head here that you’re already going under while I’m fathoms deep. Don’t try to save me, I’m well out of your reach. Someone throw the fool a rope,” he told his friends before he turned to walk away.

Bren followed, of course, as he made his way up to the East Tower; he wanted to be alone (as alone as he ever was) right then, and told Jean through a text then sat on one of the plush leather couches with his knees tucked against his chest and his chin resting on them while he did his best to clear his mind of everything.

After what had to be about twenty minutes or so, there was the clinking of glass. “Whisky?” Bren asked, and despite everything, Neil smiled, the expression slight but true.

“One day Ichirou’s going to complain about you poaching his alcohol.”

“Nah, I tell Stuart it’s all you.”

“Thanks,” Neil drawled, his voice full of sarcasm as he watched his friend sit down on the opposite couch. “You gonna give me a lecture?”

“Why?” Bren paused to have a good swallow of the expensive liquor. “Seems to me everything you said was true, though you know Jean and Mo weren’t happy to hear it.”

“They should be used to it by now,” Neil argued.

“Red… some people aren’t happy to have the truth thrown in their faces, especially since they know you put up with the little lord because of them.”

“Not entirely.” Neil sighed as he rubbed at his aching head. “I already belonged to Ichirou one way or another, and I think Jean’s right in that he… well, I probably just sped things up.” At some point or another, he’d have owed Ichirou for something, he was willing to bet.

“Probably,” Bren agreed, his deep voice quiet and expression troubled. “Still doesn’t mean you have to remind them about it.”

Neil was tempted to change his mind about the whisky.

Instead, he asked Bren some questions about his uncle, about what Stuart was up to since they’d seen each other in New York and was pleased to know that Stuart was busy but well. “You’re not going to call the runt?” Bren asked once he was finished talking about his boss.

“Uhm, no, why should I?”

Bren motioned around them. “You usually do when we’re up here and you’re upset.”

Neil shook his head. “I think he deserves a break from me calling him all the time when I’m ‘upset’.” Andrew was supposed to be enjoying his summer vacation, after all, and was dealing with an anxious Day because of the paternity thing. Why bother him with Neil’s fucked up life on top of that? He deserved a break and was probably getting tired of hearing Neil whinge about things that couldn’t be changed.

Things like Ichirou.

Bren gave him an incredulous look before finishing off the whisky then getting up for more. “I think Andrew might like it when you call him, even if it’s when you’re upset. _Especially_ when you’re upset.”

“That’s ludicrous,” Neil declared while he chewed on a hangnail.

“Right, of course you don’t believe me,” Bren sighed. “We need to check the padding in your damn helmet.”

What did that have to do with anything?

They stayed up there while Bren nursed another drink before they returned to Neil’s room, where an anxious Jean and Marley waited for them. Neil was fussed over a bit (yes, he was fine and no, he wasn’t angry with them) before they went out for evening practice.

The sophomores were still excited about the prospect of the evening practices, and soon enough would learn to pace themselves a little better (probably once classes started up). There was enough of them for once that they could take advantage of both goals since they had two goalies, along with three backliners, while Neil and Jean divided their attention between practice and handing out advice.

It was during one of their short breaks that Avery came over to Neil and Jean, a bottle of water in hand and a determined expression on her face. "So, Wilds, what's the deal with her?"

Neil scowled at the question. "What do you mean?"

"Is she real? I know she's a Fox, or an ex-Fox, but can she be trusted? She's spent the day asking question and playing at being 'friends'." It was clear that Avery didn't trust their new assistant coach.

"I... I think she's genuine," Neil said after glancing at Marley, who nodded in agreement. "She's helped out Meg a lot who doesn't have anything bad to say about her. I think we should give her a try because of Noguchi, just... well, see how she works out for a bit?"

Avery and Ben seemed to think about that while the sophomores watched on with rapt attention (as always – Neil had to wonder if they’d learned better than he’d expected). "Yeah, that's doable. It's nice to have a woman on the staff, finally, and she proved herself a good captain even if the Foxes were a mess, and Noguchi's been great so far. We'll give her a chance."

Neil suspected that the chance would be conditional, but the Ravens had been through more than enough and didn't trust lightly.

The next day was more of Wilds walking around and talking to everyone, taking some extra time to get to know the sophomores and the girls on the team.

Neil watched and didn't interfere, but he didn't make an effort to interact with her, either. Even when she showed up at the evening practice, appearing content to just watch at first before she approached him about halfway through the session. "No wonder you guys are impossible to beat. I knew Kevin's devoted to practicing, but this...." She shook her head as she glanced around the court then at the darkened seats. "You know there's more important things than this game, right? I mean, I love Exy, but you're young, you should be-"

" _No_ ," Neil told her as he slammed the end of his racquet into the floor. "Just stop right there, okay? See, that's why you were a Fox and we're Ravens. Don't tell us we're wasting our time out here, don't tell us we should be doing something else, that there's something better than winning or being the best. There isn't. There _isn't_ ," he stressed when she shook her head. Not for him, not for Jean, not for Avery who'd given up pieces of her soul to survive four years already at the Nest, along with the rest of the upperclassmen, the Ravens who'd graduated in the last couple of years - the Ravens who'd survived (such an inaccurate term) Riko and Tetsuji. "We don't care about dating or partying or all of that useless stuff, we're going to push ourselves until we've reached our limits and then keep _going_ , we don't stop until we own this division and sport and know that there will be teams fighting to sign us once we graduate." All around him he could see the others nod, all but Jean. "Because _that's_ what matters."

For some reason Wilds looked sad just then. "But there _is_ more to life than this game. What happens when you retire? If you blow out your knee?"

"We're the best or we're nothing," Neil said. "Who wants to be _nothing_?" He was only good to Ichirou if he had value.

"God, Neil, how can you, can _any_ of you think that?"

"Because we're not willing to settle for being _nothing_ ," Avery declared as she threw away her empty water bottle. "Unlike _some_ teams. Now let's get back out there, I want to score four more points before bed."

"You're on, I bet I'll get five," Marley said as she snatched up her racquet.

"You're not getting any of them," Ben warned as he shoved on his helmet.

Neil noticed Jean's concerned gaze and gave his partner a slight smile, but he wouldn't take back anything he said, not when it had been the truth. Not when he'd be spending the weekend with Ichirou, all too aware of how he was nothing but a toy, a commodity, in the man's eyes.

" _What do you think of your new assistant coach_?" Ichirou asked over dinner on Friday.

" _I think... that such optimism and good will can be exhausting_ ," Neil admitted. " _But she appears earnest about doing a good job_."

" _That's much the same that Hiroshi said. She seems to be adjusting well to the team so far_." Ichirou swirled his glass of whisky about as he appeared to think about something. " _She has the summer to come around_."

Neil didn’t ask what would happen to the young woman if she didn’t, he merely did what he was becoming quite good at and that was to serve as a distraction. It wasn’t as if they wouldn’t end up in the bedroom eventually, and he had a job to do, right? He might as well get to it.

He got to soak in a jacuzzi tub for a good part of Saturday morning (once Ichirou left their bed), then had to put on a smile and nice clothes before his lord’s guests arrived; they were a mix of Japanese and Latin American – from a couple of different countries, which made his head ache as he struggled to keep up with the switch in languages and regional dialects.

For the most part the assembled people (heavy on the men with a few women who were more ornamental than anything, something which would make Marley and Janna sneer) treated Neil with respect or at least ignored him as ‘hired help’, but there were a couple whose attention made him nervous, who reminded him of his father’s people. He was careful to stay out of their reach or to always have Bren nearby if Ichirou wasn’t, his friend quick to pick up on his unease since his lord was busy ‘socializing’.

Still, Ichirou said something Saturday night after everyone had left. _“What was wrong_?”

Mindful of his promise to tell the truth, Neil perched on the edge of the high, huge bed and fidgeted with the buttons of his pale grey dress shirt. “ _A few of the people made me nervous, I don’t think they liked me much_.” He figured that Ichirou realized that he didn’t mean it in a ‘they weren’t nice to me’ way but ‘they looked as if they were planning on how to gut me and dispose of my body’.

“Ah.” Ichirou stood in front of Neil and tilted up his chin. “ _Which ones_?”

“Ibanez, Cabrera, and Hara.” Neil gave a slight shrug. “ _It’s nothing new, I’ve been told I’m rather annoying. Something about my mouth and attitude_.”

“ _Yes, but you were very well behaved today, for once_.” Ichirou gave his chin a quick squeeze before rubbing his thumb along Neil’s lower lip. “ _Now about this mouth_ ….” Ichirou’s thumb dragged at Neil’s lower lip, his gaze changing from curious to heated, so Neil hopped off the bed to do his lord’s ‘bidding’.

Sunday was translating documents for Ichirou (binding him even tighter), ensuring that orders from Japanese to English, French and German were correct (he blanked his mind on the topics, told himself it didn’t matter) in-between more ‘distractions’.

He didn’t care about being fucked on a desk (about being treated like a thing) if it meant he didn’t have to think about Calais and shipments and what his uncle had to do later that night.

Monday morning he smiled at Ichirou and stretched the truth that he’d had a nice weekend (it was better than any he’d had back at Baltimore, than some of the ones on the run with his mother – it was all relative, right?), and hid the exhaustion and soreness he felt with practiced ease. As soon as he crawled into the SUV and Bren pulled out onto the main road, his friend ordered him to get some sleep, _dammit_.

Neil’s eyes were already fluttering shut.

The rest of the team were out on court, so Neil moved as quickly as he could despite Bren’s demand to go to bed and changed out then joined them, aware of Noguchi’s and _Masato’s_ eyes on him as he went to stand beside Marley. Wilds was next to Nakamura, officially an assistant coach that day, and frowned at him.

“ _You are a stubborn, stubborn ass_ ,” Marley hissed at him in French.

“ _I’m a devil_ ,” he reminded her. “ _And British. We don’t give up easily_.”

“ _I’m beginning to understand why Jean says that word like a curse_.”

He managed to get through morning practice without falling flat on his face, but it was difficult. When practice was over, all he wanted was to stand beneath the hot water in the showers, but Jean dragged him out after ten minutes and all but shoved him into clean clothes (an old sweatshirt of Jean’s and a pair of track pants) before hauling him off to breakfast.

“ _Eat_ ,” Jean ordered; Marley had already fetched tea and a large bowl of oatmeal for him overflowing with strawberries and blueberries.

“I don’t-“

“ _Eat_ ,” Jean repeated as he leaned forward with a determined gleam in his eyes. “ _If you think I’m going to let you get sick again, you’re even more of a fool than normal. Now eat before I shove it down your throat_.”

Neil sighed as he picked at a strawberry; once he swallowed it, he didn’t feel so nauseous anymore. “What’s with you French being petty tyrants?”

Marley smirked while she filched a blueberry and flicked it at Jean. “He’s rather good at it, isn’t he? Ooh, do you think that means that Surfer Boy’s secretly a sub?”

Neil paused in eating his breakfast to shake his head while Bren groaned, and Declan choked on his coffee while Jean smacked Marley on the back of her head. “Uhm… do you mean Knox being a sub striker? He is right now for the Sea Lions since he’s a rookie again.”

“ _Ow_ , dammit, and I-“

“Another word, ma puce, and you’ll _never_ get on the starting line,” Jean threatened for some reason. “I _promise_.”

“Aww, our little boy needs to learn this stuff eventually!”

“ _Non_!”

Neil wondered if the lack of sleep was causing hallucinations. He _hoped_ that the lack of sleep was causing hallucinations.

Maybe if he ate quickly enough, he could choke on some fruit.

“Wow, you guys sure are energetic this morning.” Neil coughed a little at Wilds’ sudden appearance but managed to swallow his mouthful of fruit and oatmeal after all, dammit. He gazed at her through his damp bangs then returned his attention back to his breakfast. “At least, most of you. Everything okay?”

“It’s fine,” he mumbled.

“Other than our team’s about to lose a striker,” Jean said.

“Oh go ahead and try, Crusty. I’ll take you down with me.”

Why was Neil staying awake again?

“All right, _now_ you’re sounding more like the Foxes!”

Wilds’ ludicrous comment put an end to Jean and Marley’s burgeoning fight, and Neil looked up to find identical expressions of repugnance on his friends’ faces. Although Declan was amused, so much so that he took a picture while chuckling. When Neil glanced at Wilds, she winked at him before moving on as if she was well aware what effect those words had on his friends.

The caffeine and food helped, as did Neil spending most of his time in the gym on the treadmill, able to blank his mind and run (even if it was in the same spot). Afternoon practice was a bit rough, but Neil refused to break from routine and pass on evening practice even when his friends cursed him out.

“It’s one night,” he told them. “Tomorrow things will be back to normal.” But he had the night to get through first, and he’d rather do it when utterly exhausted and hopefully too worn out to dream.

“If you pass out then I’m using you as a makeshift goal,” Jean warned; he almost pulled off perfect haughtiness save for the concern in his grey eyes.

It was the usual crowd out in the empty stadium… plus one – Dan Wilds. She nodded to them from her spot near the Home goal as they stepped out onto court. “I thought since I’m here tonight I could help spot you guys a little, give some advice and all.” She flashed them a bright smile. “Or at least chase some balls.”

Everyone looked at Jean, who shrugged after a moment. “Your help would be appreciated,” he told her, deep voice quiet and reverential.

“All right, show me what you got,” Wilds said with evident satisfaction while walking to safety.

She left it to Jean and Neil to correct the others (the sophomores) first, but it was helpful to have an ‘outside’ perspective since they were busy playing at the same time. Neil had never thought of her as a really good player, though it was becoming clear that she’d gone into coaching for a reason. What she lacked in the ability to execute, she more than made up for in knowledge and understanding.

He tolerated her presence when she stood near him during the last break before they called it a night and stumbled off to bed (literally in his case), tolerated the weight of her gaze as he finished drinking some water. “You… I’m trying to figure you out, how you fit with Andrew.”

Mention of his friend made Neil lower the bottle and wipe at his damp lips. “What do you mean?” ‘Fit’?

“It’s just….” Wilds gave an abbreviated laugh as she stared out over the court. “In some ways you’re such opposites because he’d never put all this effort into Exy, wouldn’t be able to handle the whole partner thing.” She nodded to Jean and Marley, who stood nearby. “And in others you’re so similar, what with being stubborn and not letting new people in.” When he didn’t say anything, she sighed and gave him a small smile. “Look, I know you’re not going to trust me just because I say I’m here for you guys. That wouldn’t work for the Foxes, either. Hopefully you’ll learn soon enough that you _can_ trust me, though.”

Neil stared straight ahead. “We need to work on that left-hand pass some more, Brian still has trouble with it.”

“Yeah, _now_ I’m seeing it,” Wilds muttered as Neil grabbed his racquet and yelled at the sophomores to get moving.

"Is she always this annoying?" Neil asked Andrew during one of their calls.

"Yeah, and she's your problem now."

"Wonderful," Neil sighed; he was back in the East Tower since Jean was talking to Knox. "I mean, she's much better than Akagi, but she keeps poking at stuff."

"She's a meddler, just like Wymack and most of the Foxes. Keeps thinking she has to fix things." Andrew was quiet for a moment. "Speaking of which, what's going on with you? You're not being stupid again, are you? Doing something that'll have Moreau and Patel freaking out?"

Neil's throat grew tight all of a sudden while he tugged on the medallion around his neck. "No?" Dammit, that wasn't meant to come out as a question. "Why do you ask?"

"Perhaps because you've barely called me the last couple of weeks?"

"Ah... we're getting ready for the freshmen to arrive, it's been busy."

"Neil." All Andrew said was the one word and there wasn't much emotion in his deep voice as usual, yet somehow Neil sighed as he slumped down on the soft leather couch.

" _There are times... times when I'm not sure how I'm going to be able to do this forever_ ," he admitted to his friend in German. " _Why can't he grow bored with me? What... what makes_ it _so special? I just... I just don't understand_."

Andrew's breathing grew rough on the other end of the phone for a few seconds and then evened out, the only sign that he was still there. " _Neil, you tell me when it gets to be too much, all right? You tell me_."

" _I know_." It's why Neil had said something in the first place, because Andrew had made him promise... well, he'd promised to speak up when it got too bad. Bad again. When it got bad. Or was that if someone got out of hand? Neil scrubbed at his face and managed a smile for Bren, who gazed at him with concern. _"It's not there yet, but sometimes I just need to not think about things_." That was the one good thing about being on the run with his mother - being too busy just going, with putting one foot in front of the other and focusing on his new identity to think about anything but surviving another minute, another hour, another day.

"Anyway," he asked in English so Bren would stop worrying. "Has Day said anything yet?"

Andrew clicked his tongue in disgust. "Almost. Now Wymack's all suspicious because he's acting like an idiot, getting the man alone and then spazzing out." They talked a little while longer and Neil felt better, felt more at peace, which he always did after his calls with his friend.

It lasted until Ichirou arrived right before the new batch of freshmen, but at least he only stayed for a few hours. Just long enough to pull Neil from practice for the evening, for Wilds to give him questioning looks as he headed to the locker room to change and then to grow agitated the next morning upon spotting the marks on his neck.

When it looked as if she was going to come over and say something, Janna pushed away from the wall and grabbed Wilds by the left arm to pull her aside, where a furious but muted conversation took place. Wilds didn't appear happy at the end of it, but she left Neil alone for the day and didn't bring up him leaving early the day before or the marks that Ichirou had left on him, so Neil gave Janna a grateful smile at lunch.

At least the arrival of the freshmen served as a suitable distraction for everyone, even if it meant that Neil and Wilds worked together more than he'd ever done with Nakamura or Akagi. There were six of them that year, two backliners, two striker, a goalie and a defensive dealer, all because of the recent and approaching graduations.

Neil gazed at them, at their open expressions and youthfulness, and felt so _old_.

It was a lot of work, but it was also comforting, in a way. It was something Neil was familiar with after two years, after dealing with Marley and Meg his freshmen year and the rookies the following one. He had a routine of sorts down, of warm-ups and scrimmages and then guiding the latest rookies through the Ravens' drills with the help of Marley and now Wilds.

When his phone went off in the middle of the night more than a week after the rookies had arrived, he thought at first that it was Andrew calling, then he finally woke up enough to calm down (to put aside the knife). Jean was pressed against his back and Marley just sitting up in bed as he reached for his phone, and a jolt ran through him when he saw his uncle's name on the screen.

"Stuart?"

"Just listen to me," his uncle told him, voice rough and urgent. "Don't tell anyone anything, keep your mouth shut, you and the rest of the team, all right? Turn off all of your phones, toe the line and listen to Noguchi. Follow his lead."

"Okay," Neil said, used to following orders, to not questioning after all those years with his mother (don't talk just shut up and follow me, Abram. Talking can get us dead, do you understand?).

"Good boy. Now go tell the others." Stuart hung up after that, and Neil didn't hesitate in turning off his phone while standing up, in rushing for the door.

"What's going on?" Marley asked (always the curious one, the safe one, the one who hadn't learned things the hard way, while Jean was ever Neil's quiet, protective shadow).

It was Declan at their door (Bren had to sleep sometime) and he gave them a curt nod while holding up his phone. "Got the call from Davis, shite's going down, eh?"

"What?"

Neil ignored Marley as he motioned to Jean to head the opposite way. "You go that way and tell everyone to turn off their phones and not to say _anything_ that's isn’t cleared by Coach, _nothing_."

Jean nodded, his expression grave and body tense as he tugged Marley with him. “ _Understood_.”

“Well I’m glad someone’s got a damn clue,” she griped as she went along.

“Not now,” he ordered while Neil went with Declan.

They went door to door with Neil knocking a few times before he stepped inside, trying to give them a little warning before he woke them up. Most of the Ravens were light sleepers (there were reasons for that) and were fumbling upright once he was inside, so it didn’t take long for him to explain his uncle’s cryptic message.

He didn’t know what was happening, just that it wasn’t good and that the team was expected to put up a unified front; it wasn’t long after everyone was warned that Wilds and Nakamura showed up to ‘ask’ them to gather in the one main lounge.

There were carafes of coffee and tea set out along with granola and energy bars, so Neil and his friends grabbed some caffeine and something to eat before settling down together on a couch. Once the rest of the team were also seated, Noguchi stepped forward from where he was leaning against the wall, his expression guarded, and nodded to everyone.

“My apologies for disturbing you, but soon enough we’ll be having guests and I wanted to talk to you before then.” His gaze lingered on Neil before it continued around the room. “I’ve been notified that there’s been two posts made online by former Ravens yesterday, one by Ed Ross and another by Lev Federov.” Neil went still when he heard those names, especially Federov’s, and felt Jean shiver at mention of the former backliner. “It appears that Ross put forth a statement about various abuses he suffered here at Edgar Allan during his brief tenure as a Raven, along with those he suspected that happened to other players.” Again, Noguchi’s gaze flickered over to Neil and Jean then to Avery and Naomi. “His accusations weren’t helped by the fact that he committed suicide shortly afterwards, nor that Federov made several lengthy comments on the post confirming Ross’ allegations before overdosing.”

“Oh god,” Philip gasped, the sophomores and freshmen staring at their coach in horror while the rest of the Ravens were more expressionless at the news.

“Is he dead?” Cal asked. “Lev? You said he’d overdosed.”

Noguchi shook his head. “Last I’ve heard, he’s in the hospital and it’s not looking good.”

“Too bad,” Cal said, hatred evident in his voice and on his face. “Bastard deserves to die so much more than Ed.” Near him, Jon nodded in agreement while Neil felt much the same.

“Oh god,” Khoury echoed, “how can you say that?”

“Be thankful you weren’t here two years ago,” Cal said as he rubbed his left arm, the one that had been broken by Riko; Neil noticed that Wilds was paying close attention to the exchange.

“Enough,” Noguchi snapped. “I don’t want to hear any of that, certainly not when there’s any outsiders here. They’ll pounce on any suspicion that what Ross or Federov wrote is true, and we don’t want that, do we?”

The sophomores and freshmen were quick to shake their heads while the rest of the Ravens were more cautious with their response. Noguchi sighed and hung his head for a moment before he spoke again. “I know Coach Moriyama was… he was a strict man, _very_ strict, and his nephew was troubled.” Off to his left side, Wilds started and gave him a wary look while the Ravens were quiet as if waiting to see where he went with things. For himself, Neil was very aware of Masato standing in the back of the room and his uncle warning him not to say _anything_. “I’m not going to deny that, but let me do the talking, all right? Because the wrong word can lead them to attempt to overhaul the program or ruin your careers, and I don’t want any of that to happen.” He gazed around the room again. “I think you’ve been through enough, don’t let them get the last shot, yes?”

For himself, Neil wouldn’t allow Federov to hurt him anymore, to fuck up his life any more than the prick already had, and he thought that Jean felt the same. Glancing around, he saw the resolve on Avery and Naomi’s faces, saw Cal and Lee and several other Ravens nod.

“All right, then let’s go through this. I want you prepared because the press and probably the university is going to come after you.” Noguchi appeared apologetic as the lights dimmed and he pulled up a website – Ross’ social media account, or at least screenshots of it (Neil wondered if someone had already taken it down but was certain that the screenshots were already dispersed).

Neil hadn’t known Ross very well, not when he’d spent his freshmen year doing whatever he could to survive Riko (and Federov and Bautista and Johnson) while protecting Jean and Marley and Meg, but a wave of guilt washed through him reading about what Ross had suffered. Jean draped an arm over his shoulders to hug him close and murmured to him that it wasn’t his fault while Marley cursed up a storm about ‘fucking shit-turds’ beneath her breath as the words on the screen detailed the abuse Riko and the others (including Loiseau) had inflicted upon Ross, the beatings and putdowns and harassment.

Ross also detailed what the rest of the Ravens had gone through, at Tetsuji’s hands in their daily practices and while putting up with Riko; the harassment the girls faced and the rumors that it didn’t stop at words and leers and being cornered in the halls.

There were things in there about Jean and Neil, about their scars, about them showing up to practice beaten and bruised, about them being starved and exhausted. About the rumors that it wasn’t just the girls who were assaulted.

Then Federov showed up online and said that everything was true, that Tetsuji was an abusive bastard and Riko a twisted fuck, that one got ahead at the Nest by catering to the ‘king’, by fueling his appetite for pain. He seemed to take delight in rattling off a list of what he’d done (the people he’d hurt), until Neil wanted to throw up the coffee he’d just drank.

Part of him wondered how Bautista, Johnson and Nichols were reacting to seeing themselves named as part of Riko’s special ‘court’, but he was more concerned about Susan and Sophie and the rest of the women Ravens who’d thought that they’d gotten free of the Nest at last, who must have hoped that they could start to put the past behind them.

There were sobs from Foster and Carter, muttered ‘no’s’ from Moore and Hall and Brian, and random curses from around the room. Declan and Wilds looked as if they wanted to hurt someone, while the older Ravens just appeared resigned.

They were used to being hurt, after all, to being beat down and blindsided. They’d face this latest setback as a team, get out there on the court and play Exy as if nothing else mattered because in the end? Nothing did. Nothing mattered but being the best and winning and moving on.

Moving past the pain. Andrew might mock Neil for being an Exy junkie, but at least out there on the court? He was in control, he had a racquet in his hand and a set area where he could run as fast as possible, could take down anyone who got in his way and feel as if he’d accomplished _something_.

“Now you know,” Noguchi said with a roughness to his voice. “Remember, defer to me at all times. Coach Moriyama was strict – too strict, in fact. Riko Moriyama was troubled, and you have no further comment than that. Understood?”

“Yes, Coach,” they called out in unison, some of them stronger than others.

“Prep for practice,” he told them with an approving nod. “We’ll do what we can.”

Wilds looked as if she wanted to disagree, but all of them rose to their feet in an almost smooth motion (the freshmen fumbling a bit) and hurried to their respective locker rooms. Marley gave Neil a quick pat on the back and the same to Jean before she followed Avery.

It was quiet in the men’s locker room, at least for the first couple of minutes. “Is… was that true?” Dale asked as he glanced at Neil and Jean. “I mean, what-“ He all but skidded back a step when Jean whirled around to face him.

“You heard what Coach said, we’re not to talk about these things,” Jean told him, his expression stern and tone harsh. “Now hurry up and get out on court.”

“Yuh-yes, Captain!” Dale’s face grew flushed as he yanked on his jersey.

Neil didn’t say anything as he finished getting ready, but he could feel the stares directed his way, the unwelcome attention, and looked up to gaze back at Brian and Philip then the rookies until they glanced aside.

Andritch and what looked to be several members of the university board showed up about an hour into the morning practice, their expressions grim as they made a beeline for Noguchi. By that point Bren and Janna had arrived and were stationed around court, with Bren wandering over to where Neil was teaching the freshmen the first Ravens drill.

Neil could hear something about the press and negative publicity and ERC and abuse allegations, to which Noguchi shook his head and countered with exaggerations and sour grapes and revenge. He thought that Andritch asked why the team was staying at the Nest and not their house on campus, and Noguchi replied that it was summer practice.

It appeared that the Ravens’ coach had an answer for everything, which didn’t do much to appease the university’s president. The two men went back and forth for a good ten minutes, until Noguchi waved Jean and Neil over to his side. “If you don’t mind, these people have a few questions for you,” Noguchi said, and Neil didn’t need his uncle’s warning to know that it was in his best interest to keep his replies as general as possible.

Andritch and a middle-aged woman with sharp dark brown eyes and a demeanor which instantly put Neil on edge (she reminded him of Lola) asked him and Jean several questions about Ross, Federov, Tetsuji and Riko. The two of them admitted that they didn’t know Ross very well (they’d been tasked to train Marley and Meg, after all), while Loiseau and Cal (more Loiseau) had worked with Ross and Jon. Federov was more of a grey area, in that they knew him (especially Jean) and didn’t quite hold back on their evident dislike of the ex-Raven, but stated that they weren’t friends and didn’t socialize with him (never willingly).

Tetsuji had been a talented coach, but also the strictest one they’d ever known and not kind to players who didn’t live up to his exacting standard. Neil was certain that the woman understood their slight pause when it came to phrasing those words, which was fine – something was going to come out, especially with Tetsuji’s sudden retirement, but the main thing was keeping the Ravens from outright admitting that he’d beaten almost all of them black and blue – some of them to the point of unconsciousness – on a regular basis.

(At least right then. Neil suspected that Tetsuji was going to be thrown under the bus sooner rather than later and was fine with that.)

It was the same with Riko, that slight hesitation, that careful hedging of him being ‘troubled’, and after a few minutes Andritch and the woman focused their attention on Noguchi. Neil knew that it wasn’t over, that there’d be more questions later, that the press wouldn’t be so ‘kind’ when it was their turn, but the main thing was that the Ravens stuck together when that happened.

The day went downhill from there. More people showed up to ask questions, to check on the players’ ‘wellbeing’ (Neil suspected that they were hoping to catch one of the Ravens out, to get them to say something different from the others), and soon enough the press gained access to the team. It was clear that Noguchi wasn’t happy about allowing them into Evermore, but the sooner that people accepted that the Ravens were ‘fine’, the sooner they could put the rumors and speculation to rest.

That meant that Jean, Neil, Avery and Naomi sat there while assholes threw question after question at them based on Federov’s comments, prying into their personal lives with an eager and ruthless insensitivity that made Neil want to get up, grab a chair and start swinging it at their heads. One of them had the audacity to phrase it as them ‘taking a stand against the culture of sexual harassment and abuse which was rampant in co-ed sports’, but Neil knew that it was about fucking ratings and publicity and money in the end.

He managed to hold on to his temper (barely, just barely) and tongue in large part due to Jean’s presence by his side, his uncle’s warning echoing inside his head and the heavy weight of the medallion around his neck. When he finally left the conference room his hands were trembling from restrained anger, and he snatched at the flask which a solemn Bren held out to him even though it contained that awful Chinese alcohol from the Winter banquet.

“I swear, if I’d had my racquet just then I would have committed mass homicide,” Avery gritted out as she slumped against the hallway’s black wall. “They’re usually a bunch of pricks, but they were actual vultures today.”

Wilds looked as if she wanted to hug the striker but thought better of it. “I’m so sorry that you had to go through that, but I bet Hiroshi’s tearing them a new one right now.” She nodded to the room which they’d just left, where their coach had taken over the interview for final questions. “Are you… is there anything I can do for you?”

“Lev’s balls on a platter,” Avery told her without any hesitation.

“No, I want to cut them off myself,” Naomi muttered. “With one of those plastic spork things, though you can help hold the bastard down.”

“Ooh, yeah, that’s better.” Avery nodded in approval.

Wilds blinked at their responses at first then grinned. “Okay, not what I was expecting but I’m in.”

Avery and Naomi were quiet for a moment before giving their newest coach subdued smiles. “Good to know,” Avery said while her partner nodded, then they walked away, probably to return to their room. Meanwhile, Neil shuddered as he swallowed a little more of the alcohol (paint thinner, more like it) before he handed it to Jean.

“And you?” Wilds asked, her expression uncertain since Neil had basically held her at arm’s length the past couple of weeks.

“Uhm… could you let Andrew know that I’m all right?” He assumed that she could at least use her phone.

Her reaction surprised him, the bright smile and quick nod. “Sure! As soon as I can, he’s probably really worried about you and taking it out on everyone else.”

“Ah, okay.” Why would Andrew be that upset?

Jean handed over what had to be an empty flask to Bren, who tucked it away while he motioned down the hall. “Come on, you two. Let’s get you settled before someone tries to do spring another Q&A on ya.”

“Okay.”

“Hey.”

 Neil glanced at Wilds, who was probably waiting for Noguchi to finish putting up with the assholes in the conference room. “If either of you need to talk to someone, I’m here for you,” she said, earnest once more.

Neil nodded once, uncertain about why she was trying so hard for someone she didn’t even know before turning around and heading to his room, where Marley was waiting for them. All he wanted to do was sleep and put an end to the day (or try to sleep, all things considered), to move past everything.

He dreamt of Federov (and Bautista and Johnson and Nichols) that night and the next (and the next and the next and-), and knew that Jean suffered much the same. At least there was some satisfaction gained when Bren told them that Federov died in the hospital from the ‘overdose’, supposedly before waking up and anyone could question him about his time at Edgar Allan.

Neil hoped that whoever Ichirou or Stuart had sent to take care of the prick had made the ex-backliner’s last few minutes painful as hell.

The Ravens barely got any practice in because of all of the people going in and out of Evermore to interview and question them, desperate to find something wrong too long after the fact. It was almost a week later when things finally quieted down and Neil could turn on his phone, along with the rest of the team.

Marley was busy placating her parents (Wilds and Nakamura had informed them, along with the rest of the parents – at least those who still interacted with the current players – about the ‘radio silence’ in an attempt to protect the players from the press tracking down their phone numbers) while Jean was surprised by all of the messages left by a frantic Knox in his voicemail who’d called to check up on him.

Neil’s first impulse was to call Andrew, who’d sent several texts asking if he was all right, but knew he had to call Ichirou first; the one good thing about the whole mess was that with all of the unwanted attention directed at the Ravens and Castle Evermore, Ichirou hadn’t been able to visit. He left his friends and went up to the East Tower where it was quiet to make the call.

" _Nathaniel, you sound tired_."

" _It's been eventful here, my lord. How are you_?"

" _'Eventful' is a good word, but things are working out, surprisingly. You and Jean are coming to New York this weekend_."

"Ah." Somehow Neil had been expecting that, all things considered. " _Marketing or media_?"

" _Media, Masato has lined up several interviews for you and will go over what you're to say beforehand_."

" _I understand, my lord_." They'd have to do it sometime, preferably before the season started, though Neil wasn't looking forward to such things. He knew that Jean would be very uncomfortable, too, but it wasn't as if they had a choice and better them than the rest of the team.

" _Wonderful, your obedience is always so refreshing_." Neil was spared from saying anything when Ichirou continued. " _Fortunately, Hiroshi's already addressed most of issues that the university board has complained about so there's little to deal with on that end, and Tetsuji's wise enough to sequester himself away from any questioning_."

Yes, Noguchi had already done away with the sixteen-hour days and no holiday breaks for the Ravens, as well as the corporal punishments (such a small thing, that). There was still the question about the Ravens spending 'most' of their time in the Nest, but the players themselves had argued that it was easier for their schedules to remain near the stadium than to run all over campus. At the moment, it appeared that there might be a compromise of them moving to their 'house' on weekends to give them a chance to 'socialize' more with the rest of the students.

As for Tetsuji.... " _So he's going to remain in Japan_?" He'd moved back there as soon as he'd left Edgar Allan and was still considered a citizen in the country. Neil imagined it would make extraditing him to the U.S. difficult if charges were pressed against him, as it was rumored - not that any of the current Ravens would agree to turn against him (unless Noguchi told them it was all right to do so).

“ _For however long he has left_.” There was an ironic tone to Ichirou’s voice, enough to warn Neil that his former ‘Master’ wouldn’t be enjoying a lengthy retirement. He didn’t know if the old bastard would ‘commit’ suicide like Riko or come to some sort of an accident, and didn’t really care, to be honest. Tetsuji had caused too much pain and allowed too much destruction during his time as Castle Evermore’s Master, and so didn’t deserve any ‘twilight’ years.

“ _I see. When are we leaving_?” The rest of the call was about the upcoming trip and what Ichirou expected of Neil (and Jean), and only lasted a few more minutes. Neil was left with the impression that it would be a hectic weekend and felt a fresh wave of hatred for Federov (Ross… was still a bit of a grey area, what with the guilt over wishing he’d done more for the ex-Raven).

Andrew answered the phone on the second ring. “Finally feel like talking?”

“Ah… didn’t Wilds tell you about our phones?” Neil slumped down on the couch and shook his head when Bren held up the decanter of whisky.

Andrew grunted, which wasn’t much of an answer. “Nice to see that at least one little birdy feels like telling everyone about what happens there.”

“Not funny,” Neil snapped. “This is hurting a lot of people, you know.” He pulled his knees to his chest as he wondered if Andrew had read the post, had seen Federov’s comments; he knew that his friend had figured out some things that had happened since he’d come to Edgar Allan. It was why Andrew had pushed with some questions and was so furious about Ichirou, had confessed (somewhat) about his foster brother Drake and his own past.

Still, Neil didn’t like the idea of Andrew seeing all of those comments.

“It’s hurting you,” Andrew said, and only the quiet evenness of his voice kept Neil from hanging up.

“Yeah,” Neil admitted as he covered his eyes with his left hand. “I thought… there was only so much I could do because of Riko so I asked for Marley and Meg. I thought Ross – I thought Ed and Jon would be all right, that it wouldn’t be quite so bad for them but Riko kept getting worse. If I’d known, maybe I-”

“I meant _you_ , you idiot,” Andrew ground out. “How did this happen? Kevin can’t believe that the kid was able to post that stuff, and what about that prick?”

“I guess… I guess Ed thought he didn’t have anything to lose, the same with Federov.” Neil let out a slow breath and ran his hand through his hair. “Ed really wasn’t a Raven, not when he washed out, and Federov… well, he was Riko’s more than anything.” He was a thug, a sadist, not an athlete.

“So where does that leave you? It’s been bad enough here with the press hounding Kevin.”

“What do you think?” Neil gave a bitter laugh, which prompted Bren to hand him a glass with about a shot or two of whisky after all. “Tetsuji’s going to take the blame, along with Riko, but only to a point. The brand can’t take too much of a hit.” A bitter smile twisted his lips.

Andrew was quiet for a few seconds, long enough for Neil to sip the potent liquor. “More sweeping things under the rug?”

“Was Day surprised by the post?” Neil countered, already aware of the answer, and scoffed when Andrew was quiet again. “This was dragged online in an attempt to hurt people, people who’ve decided that they don’t want to let it hurt them _or_ their careers. Let it go, Andrew.”

“Is that what _you_ want, Neil?”

Neil finished the rest of the whisky before he answered. “Yeah.” That came out rough so he cleared his throat. “ _Yes_.” He didn’t want to talk about it, didn’t want to think about it – he already had enough nightmares.

“You can’t keep running from such things forever,” Andrew told him; he sounded tired and worn down, sounded as if he knew too much about the topic.

Maybe not, but Neil was going to run as long as he could because what else could he do? What else did he know to do? “Running’s what I’m good at.” He tried to make it a joke, but it came out a little too raw.

“Why do I put up with such an idiot?” Andrew sighed.

“You shouldn’t talk about Day like that,” Neil chided his friend. “Speaking of which, what’s going on there?”

“Smooth, real smooth, little bird.” Andrew clicked his tongue and was otherwise quiet while he lit a cigarette. “He finally told Wymack the truth, which means he nearly had a heart-attack since he got to deal with Coach being pissed off with him and then this shit coming out.” He paused to exhale and then scoffed. “In a way it worked out for him, though, since Wymack seemed to realize what he’d put up with at the Nest.”

“How nice for _him_ , glad it was worthwhile for someone,” Neil mumbled, and blinked when Bren plucked the empty glass from his left hand. “Eh?”

“If you haven’t noticed, Red gets a bit snippy when he’s stressed,” Bren called out.

“No shit,” Andrew remarked. “He hand you the flask yet?”

“Whisky this time,” Neil told him while he rubbed at his eyes. “Uhm, your summer practice start yet? Your freshmen show up? I’m all messed up on days because of this.”

“You need to get some sleep, tell your pet thug to put you to bed.” When Neil managed a faint laugh at that, Andrew clicked his tongue. “They show up next week, which is why Kevin finally told Wymack about them sharing some DNA. He wanted it done before practice started.”

“Ah.” Moving slowly since his joints ached as if he’d been curled up in the same position for too long, Neil sat up straight and groaned. “Okay. Uhm, Jean and I are going to New York again this weekend.” Was it odd that he could tell the differences between Andrew’s silences now? “We have to do some interviews, all right? Spin control, whatever it’s called.”

“ _Damage control_ , do you know even know English?”

“Better than you Americans,” Neil muttered, choosing to forget about his father and childhood in Baltimore at the moment, especially when Bren grinned at the jab (and shoved a refilled glass of whisky in his hand).

“Go. To. Bed,” Andrew ordered before hanging up.

“The runt has a good idea.” Bren motioned to the glass then the door. “So drink up and let’s go, okay?”

“You’re just doing this so you can blame me if Stuart asks what happened to all the whisky, aren’t you?” Neil gave his friend a suspicious look and grunted when Bren’s grin widened. “Yeah.” Then he grimaced as he drank all of the liquor in one go. “Oh hell, how is it worse?” he sputtered.

“I grabbed the extra special stuff,” Bren confided to him as he took the glass away again. “Now come on.” He helped Neil stand up when he returned.

“How much did _you_ have?” Neil swore he felt light-headed already, but he really didn’t drink that much and he might have barely eaten any dinner… or lunch; it had been a stressful… well it had been stressful, lately.

“I had to make sure it was safe for you, didn’t I?” Bren insisted. “And I’m not some scrawny little ginger so it’s all right.”

“Sod off,” Neil snapped, but he was feeling rather relaxed at the moment so there wasn’t much heat to the insult.

Jean glared at Bren when Neil wavered about on his feet upon entering their room, at least until Bren handed over his flask (the traitor), sipping from it while he made sure that Neil didn’t fall down in the bathroom while getting ready for bed. He wasn’t pleased about their upcoming trip, but he wasn’t surprised by it, either.

Marley wasn’t happy, too, but she had her hands full helping with the rookies as well as Avery and Naomi on top of partaking in some interviews and questioning from the university board. All of them were being run ragged and it was difficult to get a proper break even though Noguchi and Wilds did what they could to spare them (spare the whole team).

Friday came and Jean left Marley in charge of the freshmen, and Avery, Ben and Leif in charge of the rest of the team while he and Neil went off to New York City until Monday with Bren and Masato. It seemed that they barely had time to drop their bags off at the Lowell before they were whisked away to a succession of television and radio studios.

Neil and Jean had been given a list of answers to study while back in West Virginia and had gone over them with Masato on the way to New York, so they were prepared when the ‘interviews’ started – more like interrogations. The people facing them might be better dressed and smile more, but the questions were much more invasive (had little to do with Exy), to the point that Neil would have walked away if he could.

If he was free.

But he wasn’t, so he struggled to keep his expression neutral, to not show how much the questions bothered him, to remain calm so _Jean_ could remain calm, and to stick to the ‘script’. Much like he’d told Andrew, that involved admitting (not without feigned reluctance) that Tetsuji had been more than a ‘little’ abusive and that (to put it ‘delicately’) there had been reasons why Riko had been committed, other than the obvious breakdown.

They denied most of Federov’s claims, putting them down to bitterness spewed out by out by an addict weighed down by failure and injury. Ross’ post was a bit more difficult to disclaim, and while they acknowledged some of his statements (Tetsuji, the overly harsh training, Riko, even the isolation forced upon the ‘perfect court’), they pointed out that Ross hadn’t lasted a year as a Raven and had been an unproven rookie at that, so he’d suffered a good bit of unjust hazing. He hadn’t really gotten a good picture of what it meant to be a Raven, hadn’t seen the reality of belonging to the team.

Neil felt guilty about that, but he wasn’t about to let one person tear his team apart, wasn’t going to go against Ichirou’s orders and risk his friends being hurt, so he did what he’d been told.

By the time they returned to the hotel late that evening, he was exhausted and just wanted to sleep. Of _course_ Ichirou was waiting for him up in the penthouse.

He told his lord that he wasn’t hungry, that he’d had enough to eat earlier (not quite a lie, he’d managed to choke down a granola bar a couple of hours ago) and sipped a glass of wine out on the balcony while Ichirou rambled on about the past couple of weeks. For once Neil was happy when Ichirou grasped his chin and pulled him in for a kiss, because it meant that the night was that much closer to coming to an end.

Except that Ichirou was more… fervent than usual, probably because of them being forced apart for longer than usual. He was just shy of rough, his hands a little too tight on Neil’s hips and thighs, his kisses a little too forceful, yet Neil didn’t say anything, didn’t allow himself to flinch or pull away. Not with Jean downstairs.

He didn’t get much sleep that night, not with Ichirou next to him, not with the past unearthed and raging inside of his head like a feral cat caught in a cage, claws out and yowling non-stop.

It was a very long weekend.

Neil caught what sleep he could while they traveled between interviews since he spent each night with Ichirou, and Sunday evening it was back at the Barons’ stadium to watch them play the Raleigh Regulators. He supposed he should be grateful for the break from the interviews but having to sit there for a couple of hours while Ichirou and Radcliffe talked about ‘damage control’ and the fans’ reactions to things was enough to make Neil wish that he was running around Central Park having his damn picture taken, of all things.

When Monday morning came, he was… he was numb. Utterly numb. Somehow, he managed to say ‘goodbye’ to Ichirou and get ready so he could join Jean, Bren and Masato (he couldn’t forget about Masato) in time so they could head to Edgar Allan, where the team was waiting for them. Jean urged him to sleep on the flight back, but Neil was beyond tired at that point, had pushed past the exhaustion and knew that if he closed his eyes he’d need more than an hour’s rest.

Once they were back in the Nest, he went into his room (the room he shared with Jean and Marley, with the people who depended on him, the people he’d sworn to protect) and didn’t stop until he was in the shower. After that? Things were… things were muddled.

He was _so tired_.

He was _so numb_.

He was so _tired_ of people _touching_ him, of being so _weak_ and _powerless_ and unable to stop _everything_.

He just wanted to be left alone.

Just for a little while.

It was cold, but that was fine because he was numb.

Andrew.

He was fine with numb.

“…and Andrew said….”

Though Andrew probably wouldn’t like it, would he?

“…couldn’t believe Andrew did that to Damian, but have to admit that he….”

Andrew?

Neil struggled to push past the exhaustion and cold and numbness and found himself huddled in the corner of the shower in his bathroom, fully clothed and soaked in cold water. Crouched in front of him were an anxious Jean and Bren, along with Wilds for some reason. Wilds, who was talking about Andrew.

“-and he actually saved our asses that game, just because Coach gave him a number and a bottle of whisky, can you believe it? To this day Coach wonders what- hey, you back with us?” Wilds asked in a quiet voice when Neil unwound his left arm from his bent legs to wipe at the wet hair plastered over his face; he realized that he held his knife in his right hand and let it fall to the tiled floor.

“Yeah?” Neil had trouble speaking since he was shivering so much, and flinched when Jean, almost flailing in his haste, stepped into the shower to turn on the water; it felt almost hot against Neil’s chilled skin. “Wha… what happened?”

Unconcerned about the water falling down on him, Jean kicked the knife over to Bren before he slowly reached out to help Neil stand up. “You’ve been in here for almost half an hour, mon petit diable. You came in here and just….” He shrugged while Neil struggled to make his limbs work properly, the concern and fear stark in his pale eyes.

“I came to see if you two were joining the morning practice session, or what’s left of it at this point,” Wilds added.

Neil’s head jerked around upon hearing that. “No, we’ll be there.” He rocked back and nearly fell on his ass upon three people gaping at him. “What?”

Jean groaned as he hauled Neil upright. “You’re going straight to bed.”

“No!”

“ _Yes_ ,” Wilds and Bren agreed.

“No, dammit!” Neil argued as he yanked his left arm free. “What if Masato says something?” That made Jean pause and Bren shake his head. “I have to show up, you _know_ I do.” He wouldn’t let Ichirou find out that anything ‘bad’ had happened and show up and maybe become upset with Jean or Bren. Not after last time.

“What? Why does-“

Jean cut across Wilds as he helped peel a trembling Neil out of his soaked clothes. “ _Fine_. You do little more than stand there, do you understand? Marley and I will manage today, you stay awake until after dinner and then you _sleep_!”

It looked as if Wilds wanted to argue, but as soon as she caught sight of Neil’s bared chest before Bren threw Jean a towel she swallowed whatever objection she had, a haunted look in her eyes as Bren told Jean to head off to practice since he’d deal with Neil. Jean only hesitated for a couple of seconds before pressing a quick kiss to Neil’s forehead and leaving; as captain, he was expected to be there for the team.

Between Bren and Wilds, Neil was warmed up and had enough caffeine poured down his throat that he should be able to remain on his feet for a few more hours. It wasn’t ideal, but it was his reality at Evermore, at Edgar Allan, and he was used to surviving worse.

He had to survive because others relied upon him.

He wondered if that was how his mother had felt, those last several years.

(He wondered if that was why she had allowed herself to bleed out in that stolen car.)

*******

Andrew refused to check his phone for any messages from Neil; considering his 'mood' at the moment, the device might end up embedded in something hard, preferably someone's skull. It wasn't that he was 'a grouchy fucker' (Aaron's words) or on edge, it was that he was at his limit of dealing with a plethora of idiots at the moment.

Aaron (idiot A) was sulking over being so far away from Katelyn, who was on vacation with her family and could only spend so long face-timing with him. Nicky (idiot B), was in similar straits and temperament after returning from a couple of weeks in Germany; since it was Kevin's last year at PSU, for some insane reason he'd decided not to spend all summer away (Andrew thought that Erik's recent project at work had something to do with it, too). Which left them with idiot C - Kevin.

Considering the approaching summer practice season, Kevin had finally worked up the courage to tell their 'beloved' coach the facts about the birds (ha) and the bees, about what happened when a man and a woman got all biblical with each other (or at least were stupid enough to not use proper protection - but Andrew supposed it was before Wymack knew Abby and had to sit through one of her preposterous lectures on 'be smart if you're going to be a hormonal fool'). Which Andrew supposed also led to Wymack being idiot D, because the man had yelled and stomped around and slammed doors to the point that Abby had kicked him out of her house (she was clearly taking Kevin's side in the matter, one of the few things keeping Kevin together at the moment).

So, where did that leave Andrew? Surrounded by idiots while waiting for a too quiet little bird (whom he supposed was really idiot Z) to call, which was never a good sign. A text here and there wasn't enough, not when Neil already was on edge because of the new freshmen, was trying to acclimate to Wilds and pushing himself too hard (yet again) to make Moreau's last year 'good'.

He took on too many burdens, worried about too many people when he should be concerned about himself. He wasn't just an idiot, he was a martyr, too.

"Oh god. Oh… oooh god." That was Kevin, who was in the den catching up on anything Exy-related which had happened overnight. Andrew finished preparing his third cup of coffee that day and went to see what had happened, followed by a worried Abby.

Kevin, his black hair sticking up in all directions and face imprinted with creases from his pillowcase, pointed to the television; it looked as if he'd just woken up in the last few minutes and turned it on.

Andrew glanced at the screen since he expected to see some Exy team on it, and gazed back when he caught sight of familiar black and red uniforms. The reporter was talking about Edgar Allan and Tetsuji, with the banner about 'abuse allegations' running along the bottom.

Kevin turned up the volume when Andrew sat down at the edge of the sofa bed and sipped his coffee while Abby made a faint hurt sound.

Apparently one of the broken birdies had made a post the day before about all the bad, _bad_ things that happened in the Nest (so _many_ things), and before the post had been taken down another birdy had confirmed the allegations along with adding his own little chirps. Only his comments had been much worse than 'simple' beatings and rumors (Andrew remembered the name Federov, oh yes he did).

"Oh no," Abby breathed out, her expression one of horror. "Kevin, is that true? I mean...."

"I don't... about Tetsuji and Riko, yeah," Kevin admitted in a hoarse voice as he held his left hand cradled against his chest, his eyes bleak and face drawn with remembered nightmares. "At least, them beating up the players. But the rest of it? About Jean and Neil? I don't... I didn't...." He flinched when Andrew stood up in a rush and threw the mug at the television.

"No, you never did, did you?" Andrew said in an even tone as Kevin scurried as far back against the bed as he could and Abby yelped, as the broken television tottered on its stand before crashing down. "Good old Kevin, the world could burn to ash around him as long as he has his precious stickball to play," he commented as he got up to walk away. When Abby made to reach out to him, he gave her such a flat look that her hand fell to her side.

Nicky and Aaron found him sitting out on the front porch (such as it was) when they returned with groceries and food, Aaron's expression guarded and Nicky's anxious. "Uhm... did... did you hear?" Nicky asked as he shifted about from foot to foot, mindful to stand out of reach.

Andrew blew out a plume of smoke and gazed at his brother, who set down a couple of bags of groceries then tossed him a paper bag of take-out. "Kenny called us."

"Kevin saw it on the news," Andrew said while he fished through the bag and pulled out a breakfast burrito; he'd tried calling Neil earlier only for it to go straight into voicemail, the same when he'd tried to reach Patel.

"It's... well, they're saying it's a bunch of sour grapes, right?" Nicky gave him a nervous smile. "Couple of people who couldn't hack it doing their best to tear down the team, right?" When Andrew didn't respond, his smile melted away. " _Fuck._ "

"No wonder they're all messed up," Aaron muttered even as he looked ready to break something.

"Don't," Andrew warned his brother. "Don't go there." Not the boy who was working his way through his myriad mommy issues.

Aaron stared back at him with the familiar anger and resentment in his eyes and jut to his chin, and Andrew braced himself for the usual taunts and jeers... only for Aaron to shake his head and let out a slow breath. "So then, what do we do? What's going to happen?"

Even Nicky appeared surprised by Aaron's lack of fight. "Uhm, yeah? What does this mean? For Kevin and...." He made a slight motion toward Andrew.

For once nothing immediately came to mind, no smart response or snide comment, so Andrew folded back the wax paper around the burrito (bean and cheese, he noted) and tore off a piece. "Keep Kevin from doing something stupid."

"Okay." Nicky seemed to wait for more. "That's all?"

"For now." Andrew needed to hear from Neil.

"Okay." Nicky summoned up a smile and gave Aaron a nudge in the side. "I'll sit on him while you put a bag over his head."

"You just want a chance to grope him, you pervert. I'm telling Erik," Aaron complained while he picked up the bags and took a step toward the porch.

"Aw, I'm being good, I promise! Good for me, at least!"

Andrew ignored them as they went into the house.

Wymack showed up a little later, already tired from dealing with the board and the press who wanted answers from Kevin (did he know about things? Would he make any statements?), and suddenly ready to move past inconsequential stuff like family drama. Andrew suspected that it would still take some time for the two to adjust to being 'father and son', but the point had been driven home that Kevin hadn't had an easy time at Evermore, that he'd had very good reasons to fear Tetsuji and the Moriyamas - especially after Federov died before he could wake up and sing a little more.

While Wymack and Kevin were having their bonding moment in the kitchen, Andrew was once again out back smoking and started when his phone rang. Habit almost made him ignore the call from Wilds, but he pushed it aside and answered after a moment.

"How is he?"

"Right, this isn't about me at all." When Andrew didn't respond to that, Wilds sighed. "He asked me to call you. It's rough here but he's holding up so far, all of them are. They're strong."

"What's going on?" Andrew already knew that Neil that was strong, he needed to know that he was all right, dammit. "Why can't he call me himself?"

"Because none of them can, the press and the university’s all over Evermore after those damn posts." Wilds let out a harsh breath, frustration evident in the tightness of her voice. "Neil, Jean, Avery and Naomi just did an interview in hopes of getting ahead of this, and Hiroshi's been talking to people all day. He's trying to keep the vultures away from the kids as much as possible, but they're going to have to answer some questions."

"About how Tetsuji and Riko beat the shit out of them?"

"Yeah, for the most part." Andrew arched an eyebrow at that agreement since he'd expected the usual Raven (Neil) line of 'I'm/it's fine', and Wilds seemed to read his mind. "It's gone too far to deny that, not after Riko's breakdown and everything's that happened the last few years."

"And is that all?" Andrew asked as he slipped a knife free; he was certain Bee at least would have something to say about that, about such a subdued reaction. "Kevin's little 'accident' and Riko's hissy fit out on court and Tetsuji being a big meanie? What about Neil? What about all the things he... what about him?"

Wilds let out another harsh breath. "You think I'm happy right now? I just stood there while four kids lied to a bunch of people without blinking an eye that they were fine, that yeah, some old bastard who should have looked after them caned the shit out of them for missing goals or not learning a drill fast enough, that he stood around while his psychotic nephew-" She let out a garbled yell which turned into a yelp and panted for a few seconds while Andrew flipped the knife over and over again. "I had to watch that, dammit," she said after she seemed to regain control. "I knew they were lying, so did Hiroshi, and we _let_ them because it was their choice. We can't force them to say 'yeah, Tetsuji didn't stop any of that, Riko encouraged it, I had to _endure_ it' because it happened to _them_. That's not how it works, okay? They've been through enough, now we allow them to make the decisions and do what we can to put them back together."

If that was even possible; maybe for the girls Wilds had mentioned, maybe for Moreau (was that why Neil was encouraging him to talk to Knox?), but for Neil? When he 'belonged' to Ichirou? "Someone's optimistic, aren't they?"

"I have to be," Wilds told him, her tone one of barely banked rage. "It's the only thing that's going to keep me from throttling people before this is over."

"You won't do anyone any good in prison," he reminded her, something he’d told himself several times before, something he said with a good bit of irony all things considered – that and he’d rather be the one doing the throttling. “Keep me updated on Neil."

"Right, this is all about you," Wilds sighed. "Tell Coach I'll call him soon."

He only said 'yes' because she'd passed on Neil's message, and as he hung up he wondered if she'd heard the 'it's a boy' news. Not his concern if she hadn't (or had, really, considering that she was in another state), and went to talk to Kevin since it was clear that the press would keep pushing until they got hold of him.

Kevin came out later with a bottle of vodka that he actually shared for once (or shared without too much effort). “I can’t… I just can’t believe this is actually happening.”

“That someone spoke up about the Moriyamas being abusive fucks?”

Andrew was glared at for saying the truth (not unusual) before Kevin rubbed at his face and had another couple of swallows of vodka. “No, that… dammit, there was a time when… well, when Riko at least… he wasn’t bad, okay?” There was a hint of desperation in Kevin’s voice as if he was trying to convince himself of what he’d said. “It was years ago, back when we were kids, back before… back before Nathaniel even. Neil, I mean.” He frowned at something. “No, Nathaniel, because he was still Nathaniel then.”

“You think I care about this?” Andrew asked as he flicked ash to the side then grabbed the bottle.

Kevin rubbed at the back of his neck (such a Wymack thing to do). “It’s just… I used to dream, you know? That my mom was still alive and Tetsuji wasn’t, that Riko lived with us and he was like he’d been back before that awful day up in the East Tower. Back when he’d smile and laugh.” Kevin stared off at nothing before he shuddered. “Maybe he’d have had a chance if she’d been alive and Tetsuji had died instead. Maybe those poor Ravens would be all right.”

Except Kayleigh Day had died and Tetsuji had lived, Andrew thought as he scoffed then had some more vodka. He knew that ‘game’ all too well, had played it for several years himself. ‘What if my mom (before he knew about Tilda) came back for me/had never given me up?’ ‘What if Cass never had a son and had found me when I was a baby?’ What if, what if, _what if_? They were nothing but fantasies to drive one mad, and Andrew had stopped dreaming years ago.

At least, he’d stopped dreaming until he met a certain little bird with pale blue eyes and auburn hair and darkness beneath a pretty exterior.

The press proved rather stubborn, and Kevin eventually staged something at the Foxhole Court with Wymack and Abby at his side (it was decided to hold the announcement about his paternity later, before the start of the season), when he was calm and could talk about how it really hadn't been a skiing accident which had made him leave Edgar Allan almost three years ago. He went on about Tetsuji's abusive coaching methods and how Riko had grown more and more unrecognizable over the years, had grown cruel to anyone who challenged his authority and quick to wield whatever bit of power and control he had over the Ravens ranked lower than him (all of them, in other words), but that Kevin hadn't witnessed much of what Federov had described in his comments.

(Kevin didn't talk about how he didn't notice much outside of his little world of Exy, how he'd been so focused on surviving Tetsuji and Riko).

It wasn't long after that when Neil finally called Andrew, once more sounding tired and drained. Once more telling Andrew that he had to go to New York City and deal with Ichirou. Since Renee had graduated and left to complete a year in Africa for the Peace Corps, her rare time off to be spent in France with Reynolds who was working on an internship with Dior, Andrew didn’t have many options when it came to ‘venting’. Renee had suggested him sparring with Curtis and even if he was so inclined to such a ridiculous thing, the dealer was still in Virginia with her family and Yee (someone jumped at any opportunity to get away from his own overbearing family).

He should have had his phone at the ready when he stepped out on court in his gear with his racquet in hand, the stunned expression on Kevin’s face was that priceless, but then the Exy addict had to go and ruin it. “It’s about damn time,” Kevin said as he went over near the Home goal, where Andrew was headed.

Andrew flipped him off then flipped down his mask and spent an almost enjoyable couple of hours blocking about half of the bastard’s shots on the goal, which he then fired back with as much force as he could muster. Kevin was more than a little battered at the end of the session, Andrew exhausted and both oddly content.

“Keep this up and you’ll have your choice of pro teams next year,” Kevin told him in an annoyingly smug tone.

Somehow, Andrew found the energy to shove him into his locker.

Aaron and Nicky joined in on the practices the next few days, mostly to have something to do since they weren’t heading to Columbia on the weekends or going out much because of the whole Ravens mess. Kevin was hoping that with the rest of the Foxes - along with the other PSU sports teams - arriving on campus soon, the press would give up and leave him alone.

The first day of summer practice came and Andrew kept checking his phone, hoping to see a text or message from Neil, who should have been back from New York City that day, but there wasn’t anything. Nothing from a certain little bird, no new interviews (Andrew had searched out and watched them all, had forced down the anger at the growing blankness in those pale blue eyes over the weekend, the brittleness in Neil’s smile, the way Moreau had sat closer and closer to him as if a living shadow… or shield), no weird texts from Patel or calls from Wilds.

He didn’t bother to say a word to the latest batch of new Foxes (two strikers and a backliner – Wymack was being cautious that year, after the previous mess), and only acknowledged Curtis out of the returning players. Wymack’s voice droned on as background noise, the usual spiel Andrew had heard several times already, and he wasn’t in the mood to suffer through it again at the moment.

“Any questions? Comments?”

“Yeah, who’s gonna warn these kids to stay away from the faggots?” Matheson asked with a cocky grin. “Especially after the whole Raven- hey!”

For once Andrew didn’t get the chance to break someone’s jaw, not when his brother beat him to the punch (literally). Aaron was closer to Matheson and was on his feet as soon as the slur was out of asshole’s mouth, had his fist up and put his whole weight behind it (not bad). “Shut the _fuck_ up, you inbred bastard!” Aaron shouted as he punched Matheson hard enough to knock him into the wall, then yelped as he shook his right hand (someone hadn’t learned about not tucking in his thumb when forming a fist, it seemed).

“No fighting, dammit!” Wymack yelled as the rookies scattered, a grinning Boyd grabbed Matheson (and gave him a good shake) while Andrew and Nicky went over to check on Aaron (he hadn’t broken anything).

“He hit me!” Matheson complained, the words a bit slurred because of his split lip and bloody nose.

“You’re lucky that’s all he did,” Wymack snapped. “I hear that word from you again and you’re _benched_ a game!”

“But I-“

“Argue with me and you’ll be benched two games, dammit!” Judging from how red the man’s face was, their hard exterior but fluffy center coach wasn’t kidding.

When Matheson took to sulking, Boyd shoved him away then nodded at Aaron. “Come join Kenny and me during our boxing practices and I’ll teach you how to throw a safer punch.”

Aaron glanced at Andrew, who didn’t say anything (he wasn’t going to complain if his brother wanted to learn how to fight and it was better than him spending time with Katelyn), then nodded. That made both Boyd and Nicky happy for some reason.

“Anyone else want to act like an asshole?” Wymack asked, his arms folded over his chest and agitated tone suggesting that the answer best be a ‘no’. When the question was met with silence (Hurst glared a good bit at Andrew and Nicky but kept her mouth shut for once), he grunted and jerked his right thumb at Abby. “You need to see her to be cleared to play. Sadly, she can’t cure stupidity.” That appeared to be directed at Matheson.

Oh yes, the year was off to a great start.

They’d just set up the suite (the same one as previous years, Andrew wondered what would happen when Kevin was gone) and Andrew had settled on the roof when his phone rang. A trill of fear which had nothing to do with being up so high ran through him when he saw Wilds’ name on the screen. “What happened now?”

“Hey.” Wilds let out a slow breath as if she was buying time to gather her thoughts. “He should be sleeping now, which is why I’m calling.”

“Should? What the _fuck_ happened? How is he?” Andrew flicked his cigarette aside and stood up to… to what? Drive up to Charleston? He jerked his left hand through his hair and felt the urge to swear.

“I’m getting to that, dammit. Give me a moment.” Wilds sounded more than a little snippy just then; it was a good thing she was in another state and so out of reach.

It was a good thing that she was Andrew’s most reliable source on what was happening with a certain little bird.

“Okay, so, you know he was in New York, right?”

“Besides the fact that he and Moreau did about ten interviews in the last three days, yes, Neil told me.” That may have been said with a hint of sarcasm.

“Good for you.” Wilds wasn’t a stranger to sarcasm herself. “He came back this morning and… well, ‘breakdown’ is the only word for it.” Andrew wavered on his feet for a moment, the rush of emotion was so strong, so shocking. “Jean said when Neil wasn’t with him while they did the interviews that he was with Ichirou so he doubts the kid got any rest.” She didn’t try to mask her distaste for any of that.

“I’m going to kill him,” Andrew stated as he thought of Neil forced to deal with that Moriyama bastard while lying all weekend about what had happened at the Nest, at being raped on command of Ichirou’s younger brother.

“I didn’t hear that.” Wilds sighed and then huffed a little. “Look, I’m beginning to figure out a few things here, and while part of me wants to say ‘need some help?’, the rest of me knows how that’s not gonna happen. Not with the money and power I’ve seen thrown at making this scandal as much of a non-event as possible. Not when I realize that… that some of these kids are better protected than some government officials.”

“What happened to that righteous captain?” Andrew taunted. “You helping to bury that scandal?”

“ _Fuck you_ , Minyard,” Wilds gritted out. “I’m only ensuring that these kids – _all of them_ \- don’t have their lives ruined anymore. They’ve been let down and hurt enough, don’t you think?”

‘Kids’, she kept calling them ‘kids’ even though some of them were almost her own age. Still, she was just as much a bleeding heart as Wymack so it was to be expected.

“Back to Neil,” he reminded her. “And that ‘breakdown’.”

“Right.” Wilds sighed again. “He and Jean returned to campus and I think it all caught up to him, once he was here. I came to check on them when they didn’t show up to practice and he was basically catatonic in the shower. Jean and Bren couldn’t get him out of there because he didn’t recognize them and had a knife, so I… well, I started talking to him. About you. Oddly enough that got through to him.”

There was another wave of intense emotion, but instead of it being sharp and jagged and burning through his veins, it snatched at his breath and made him lightheaded and full of warmth.

Dammit, he hated how Neil affected him, so easily, so… so strongly. _Hated it_. Hated Neil.

“He’s okay now?” She’d mention Neil sleeping. “He’s all right?”

“The moron insisted on going to practice after all, he’s even worse than Kevin, but Jean and Marley made him take it as easy as possible. Hiroshi finally caught on that he’s all but dead on his feet and made him take off the rest of the day after he got something to eat.” Affection crept into her voice while she talked about Neil.

Andrew hated that, too.

“He doesn’t want anything bad to get back to Ichirou through Ishii or Noguchi,” Andrew admitted. “Not when Jean’s graduating this year.”

“I don’t think Hiroshi would do that.” Oh, had someone found a new coach to adore? “Masato? Him I’m not too sure about since he’s the one who tends to make those near impossible things happen.”

Somehow Andrew wasn’t surprised to hear that about the snake. “Tell Neil to stop being such a stupid martyr and to give me a call when he wakes up.”

Wilds laughed at that. “Okay, I can do that. Hey, how was the first day of summer practice?”

Andrew hung up on her.

Now that Renee was gone, he didn’t have the convenient outlet of a nice fight (or a fight that wouldn’t lead to him with a fresh set of charges against him). He was looking at an evening spent on the roof when a message came through on his phone about twenty minutes later, a garbled text of ‘wtf bebe haz no clu’ and an image of a brightly wrapped black bundle hugging a spot of orange. It took Andrew a moment to realize that it was Neil in bed wearing a Ravens’ sweatshirt (probably one of Moreau’s, dammit), the hood pulled so far over his head that only a few tuffs of auburn hair poked out… and that he was hugging the fox stuffed animal with his face buried against it.

Andrew stared at it for several minutes before saving the image, sent a message to Patel to learn to spell then went down to his room.

He’d just texted Bee to warn her that she was in for a fun year ahead (it appeared that Lena Whitfield, one of the new strikers, had a _small_ fascination with fire, while Jake Arnolds, the backliner, had some unresolved issues in regards to personal space once out of uniform – meaning he punched anyone who got in his face unless he had a racquet in hand) when a picture of disgruntled little bird appeared on his phone.

“Why does everyone call you about me?” Neil asked; he still sounded tired, but he’d had worse days. Andrew didn’t pick up any sense of hopelessness or darkness in his little bird’s voice, just confusion and weariness. “You’re barely civil to _me_ some days, and yet all these people call you?”

“It takes a village to raise an idiot martyr,” Andrew explained as he went into the kitchen to fetch some ice cream.

Neil made a low growl of frustration which did _not_ make Andrew shiver just then, it was the chill from the freezer, dammit. “I’m drawing the line at Bren, okay? If Bren starts calling? I’ll….”

“Yes?” This might be interesting.

“Ah… your car will be replaced with a Valhalla.” There was the sound of laughter in the background, loud and deep, and something shouted. “Okay, okay! _Vauxhall_ , sheesh, I told you I didn’t really pay much attention to their models, just if I could hotwire them or not,” Neil muttered.

Again, was this person real? Unfortunately, because Andrew wouldn’t be suffering so much if Neil was just a figment of his imagination. “Amusing,” he drawled while an image of a boxy hatchback filled his mind. “I think we’re safe on that front, especially if you actually get some damn rest for once.”

“I try,” Neil said in a quiet voice. “It’s not always up to me.”

“Are things better now?” Andrew asked while he flipped off the lid of the pint of ice cream; Nicky stepped into the kitchen area, took one look at him and quickly backed out with his hands held up.

“Mostly,” Neil admitted. “Coach got the press to leave us alone, finally, said it was interfering with our training and stressing us out. The university managed to get a few changes through but nothing that we can’t deal with… or at least figure out a way around.”

That didn’t sound good. “Such as?”

“Trying to make us interact more with the rest of the students and psychiatric sessions.” Neil’s dislike for those things was all but palpable.

Andrew considered whether or not to say anything and decided to go for it. “Seems to me that the last one’s not a bad idea. Even the Foxes have to attend a mandatory session once a semester.” When Neil remained quiet, Andrew clicked his tongue. “You’ve admitted that you have a shit-ton of issues. Surprise yourself and deal with a couple.”

That wrung a loud scoff from the little bird. “Will some of the team benefit from the new rule? Yeah. But you honestly think that Ichirou’s going to let me go pour my heart out to some shrink?” Neil was quite skilled at the whole sarcasm thing as well. “Tell me, where do I start? The fact that my current identity is a lie? That I haven’t been ‘myself’ for almost ten years? That I’m the son of a serial killer and-“

“Enough,” Andrew said, without any inflection or effort, yet it cut through Neil’s almost-rant. “I get it.”

“Then you know why it’ll never work, for me or Jean,” there he went again, always so concerned for Moreau. "I already have to edit so much when talking to Marley, it would never work with a shrink.”

Yet he told the whole truth to _Andrew_ , who hated how such a simple thing made him feel. _Feel_.

He also hated how Neil never seemed to stop to think about _why_ he did such a thing.

“What about Bee?” Andrew offered. “She knows about the Moriyamas because of Kevin and Curtis.”

“No, she only thinks she does, I’m not about to put someone close to you like that in danger. It’s fine, Andrew. I’m fine,” Neil assured him, and probably thought it was true.

In the end it was Neil’s choice, one Andrew had to respect (he found some irony in _him_ even suggesting therapy in the first place, but if there was ever someone who could use some, it was Neil). They complained about the latest batch of freshmen for a while before Andrew let his little bird go get some rest.

They were almost through the first week of practice (Andrew told himself just two more years of it, two more years of dealing with freshmen and Matheson and all of this shit – even if he went pro, he should have some say in his team and not have to deal with such ineptitude. _Shouldn’t_. Or at least would be paid for his suffering) when Kevin received a special visitor. They were in the dorm at the time, Aaron and Nicky off with Boyd and Yee, when Wymack knocked on their door.

Wymack… and Thea Muldani.

At first Andrew wasn’t about to let the ex-Raven into the suite, but Wymack and her all but shoved their way in (they did have the muscle mass to back them up). “She showed up at the stadium asking to see Kevin,” Wymack explained. “I didn’t want her wandering around considering that there still might be some press in the area.”

“Keep that in mind – it’ll make things difficult getting rid of her body if she tries anything,” Andrew warned as they headed to the living area, where Kevin was watching an Exy game (of course).

To give her credit, Muldani gazed back at Andrew with an unimpressed look – she was about a foot taller than him and almost as broad-shouldered, with built arms from working out and blocking people on court as one of the best backliners. Then her attention focused onto Kevin, who still didn’t seem to have noticed that they had visitors, and it was the flash of emotions – happiness, sadness, anger, resolve and then blankness – along with the plain yet form-fitting short black dress which showed off those arms and equally built legs, the neat long black braids pulled back from her face which made Andrew realize that he’d been right to tease Kevin about the fool’s ‘fascination’ with the Sirens.

“Kevin, put down the laptop, someone’s here to see you,” he called out.

“It can wait, there’s this play and-“

Muldani went over to grab the laptop from the oblivious idiot’s lap and toss it onto the couch, which finally made him look up at her. “Thea! You’re here! Why are you here?” He smiled at her while he stood up. “Don’t you have a game with the Savannah Thunderbolts?”

“Tomorrow, but I stopped by here to see you. What the hell is going on? What-“ she caught herself and shook her head. “Come on, let’s go somewhere so we can talk, somewhere private.” She gave a significant look Andrew and Wymack’s way.

Kevin frowned in evident confusion. “No, it’s fine, whatever’s wrong you can say it in front of Andrew and Coach.” He hesitated a moment. “Is this about the Ravens? Are you all right?”

Wymack shifted next to Andrew while Muldani gave Kevin an incredulous look. “About – I don’t hear anything from you other than ‘good game’ or ‘better luck next time’ in almost three years, and then you publically announce that Riko broke your hand! _That’s_ why you left Edgar Allan? Why you’re not talking to anyone, not even Jean? Why you won’t talk to _me_?”

“Oh boy,” Wymack muttered beneath his breath. “Just like Kayleigh.”

Neil might have a point or two about Day being a fool in regards to the people who care about him.

Kevin’s confusion grew as he stared at his… well, Andrew wasn’t certain that ‘girlfriend’ was the right term. “I didn’t want you to get into trouble,” he said with some hesitation, then winced in the face of Muldani’s glare. “No, you know what Riko was like! I was trying to protect you!”

She scoffed at that while motioning to Wymack and Andrew. “Did they _know_?” Kevin’s silence was answer enough. “Even if that’s true, you couldn’t have said _something_? I found out everything through the press, that you’d left, that you’d become a Fox, everything! Even the truth! I knew that we said that we’d focus on playing until you graduated, but didn’t you think I deserved _something_?”

“Uhm….” Kevin appeared as if he was trying to figure out a complicated history essay at the moment while Wymack rubbed at his face. As for himself, Andrew was almost amused by the whole situation – it had a better plot than his latest book (a recommendation from Renee).

Muldani’s expression was one of pure scorn. “I thought so. Go to hell, Kevin. See? Sometimes it’s worth the personal touch, of reaching out and _saying_ things.”

“Oh, I like her,” Wymack said, voice pitched low even as he winced at Kevin’s crestfallen expression.

“Thea, wait!” Kevin called out when the ex-Raven (and definitely ex-girlfriend) spun around to leave. “What… what about you? Are _you_ all right? What… did anything happen? At the Nest, I mean?”

For a moment it seemed as if she’d just storm out of the suite, but Muldani spun around fast enough that her braids fanned out around her, her arms crossed over her chest and her expression one of utter disdain. “You really don’t know, do you?” she asked, which made Kevin shake his head. “I wasn’t sure if you were backing Riko like you always did, which didn’t make sense after you told everyone about your hand, or not.” Then something more human showed forth as she tugged on the raven charm hanging from her neck. “It wasn’t like… like that for me. That prick Lev tried something, him and a couple of others, but I stood my ground.” Now she appeared guilty. “I stood my ground and I was ranked high enough that they left me alone.

“But Lydia and Jill? Some of the others? I always wondered why they went along with Riko and the guys so ‘easily’. I didn’t say anything because I thought it was their choice… but now we all know better, don’t we?” Then the disdain and anger returned. “And we all knew that Jean was Riko’s personal punching bag, but anyone who spoke up about it learned not to quickly enough. At least he has Neil now, has a real partner at last.”

Kevin rubbed the back of his neck, the guilt evident on his face. “I thought… I guess I thought much like you did. I believed whatever Tetsuji and Riko told me, to be honest.”

“Well, you left them behind, Kevin, left them and the Ravens and seem to want nothing to do with any of us anymore,” Muldani said as she turned to leave once again. “Yet you don’t appear free of them to me.” She didn’t say anything else as she walked away; Andrew was even ‘kind’ enough to hold the door open for her (then slam it shut).

Wymack started at that. “Ah… I need to make sure she gets back to her car. You going to be all right?” he asked Kevin. “We can talk later if you want.”

“I’m all right,” Kevin said after a couple of seconds. “Just… just need to think about a few things. She was… she was right.”

“She seems like an amazing woman.” Wymack paused while he pulled out his keys. “Ah, if you can, you should patch things up with her. Learn from my mistakes, son.”

That brought a small smile to Kevin’s lips. “Yeah.” He nodded to the man before Wymack left.

“Or not,” Andrew added as he watched the Exy addict for a moment.

“No, she _was_ right,” Kevin repeated as he pressed his fingers against the stupid ‘2’ tattoo on his cheek. “I need to think about some stuff.” Yet to Andrew’s surprise, he headed into the bedroom _without_ any alcohol.

Andrew stared after him for a few seconds before he locked the door behind Wymack then went to fetch some ice cream and see if a certain little bird was free to sing.

*******

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, some things:  
> Obviously the whole Raven abuse thing isn't resolved here. And I don't want it to seem like it wasn't addressed properly - especially by Dan. There's a downside to just two pov's for this story and for one of them to be Neil 'I AM FINE!!!' Josten. Even in the series/Nora's notes it comes across that the Ravens themselves were upset when the abuse (granted, physical there) 'broke' and things changed at the Nest. And Jean never said anything about what happened to him (because of him being 'property'). To me, part of it is the whole Raven mindset, part of it is them being conditioned, and part of it is they won't let anything get in the way of their careers (look at the abuse women Foxes took, especially Dan - pro sports is a harsh world).  
> Dan would love nothing better than to stand by them (as would Hiroshi) if they wanted to say 'yes this happened to me'... but as she was trying to say to Andrew, it's THEIR choice to come out and tell everyone 'this is what happened to me'. She's not going to take that choice away from them, not when they already had 'bad' things happen to them, not when they already had people 'out' them as it was. Until any of the Ravens make a conscious effort to face the press/world and speak up, Dan and Hiroshi will give them everything they need and let them face their demons at their own pace/heal how they want.  
> (Sorry if this is rambling or anything, just don't want it to seem like I'm downplaying something very important.)  
> And of course Neil and Jean aren't going to say anything, sadly.  
> And let's just say that it's a very good thing that Tetsuji is in another country, or Dan might be up on charges. And that Ichirou and her don't cross paths. Nakamura and her just MAY have had words, though.
> 
> Ah... and Kevin. I really am trying not to bash Kevin, honest, but this is largely a Raven fic and let's face it, they don't think much of him, so Neil's not going to think much of him (though that's slowly... improving?). I'm trying to show that he's getting better (and how that influences Andrew's thoughts of him), and next chapter will be a good one for him, but that last scene was long overdue. 
> 
> Hmm, anything else? Really hoping to wrap this 'year' up in a couple of chapters. We shall see.
> 
> Again, starting the big bang fic so will be throwing a prompt fic or two up while alternating with this (speaking of which, there was a bit of a discussion about Andrew calling people 'idiots' and so forth on the discord for it...).
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!  
> *******


	21. Do You Really Want It?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aahhh... yeah, okay, this is unbeta'ed since it's late and I'm trying to stick to some sort of schedule. I've read through it a couple of times, but I'm also going on like no sleep right now so I hope it's coherent. Yeah....
> 
> Very quick summary? Dan Wilds shows up at Evermore as the new assistant coach which is good. The bad? Two ex-Ravens (Ed Ross from Neil's freshman year and Federov) posted online a lot of very bad things that happened at the Nest. Very bad things. The posts were taken down, but the damage was done. The Ravens (with Noguchi and Wilds backing them) denied the 'stories' in order to protect their careers and reputations (among other reasons). And Neil is struggling because of the revelations and his relationship with Ichirou, but Andrew continues to ground him.  
> Whereas with Andrew, he continues to help Neil where possible, and Kevin finally told Wymack the truth. Kevin also had a visitor in the form of Thea Muldani who told him some hard truths and seemed to 'wake' him up a little....
> 
> Warnings for this chapter? Some very crude language and people referencing things that happened in the past chapter/being assholes, but that's it, I do believe.  
> *******

*******

Neil’s third summer with the Ravens was far from an uneventful one; as much as Noguchi strove to restore some sort of normalcy to the team, the changes kept coming after the ‘revelation’.

Since Tetsuji remained in Japan (fighting extradition and tightlipped since he knew his life depended on it), there had to be some scapegoat so the university could show that it was taking the ‘scandal’ seriously, and that meant Nakamura was fired as an assistant coach. Neil didn’t feel too much remorse for the man even knowing that he wouldn’t live long enough to face any sort of trial or hearing – he might not have raised Riko or been out there swinging with a cane, might not be a Moriyama, but Nakamura had witnessed it all and never once ran to the main branch in an attempt to put a stop to it.

That allowed Noguchi to hire another ex-Raven (he argued for the pick to avoid ‘traumatizing’ the players with too much change), and so Jacob ‘Jake’ Gibson joined the coaching staff. Gibson had been one of the best goalkeepers in the pros and on track for Court before a car accident had ended his career a few years ago. He walked with a limp and had scarring on the left side of his face, but he knew his stuff and wasn’t too gruff with the players.

The new assistant coach showed up right before the Ravens started their weekly sessions with the team ‘therapist’, Dr. Liam Murray. The psychiatrist was in his mid-thirties with cropped black hair and dark brown eyes, his clothes sleek and formal without being too fussy. Neil supposed he was meant to put the Ravens at ease, was to be seen as someone they could trust – not too old, not too stuffy, not that different from them. But Dr. Murray wasn’t a Raven.

“So are you fixed yet?” Andrew asked during one of their phone calls while Neil was up in the East Tower.

“Ha, ha. No, still the same old me.” Unfortunately.

Andrew clicked his tongue as if disappointed. "I suppose it was too much to hope for, considering your myriad issues. What all did you do to the poor person?"

"Not much." When Andrew snorted in derision, Neil smiled. "No, honestly, not much. I was kind enough to spend the hour enlightening the good doctor about each of the team's players’ positions and their stats." Neil could tell that Dr. Murray had been frustrated by the end of the session, but he couldn't force Neil to talk about anything in particular, right? It was supposed to be about them building some sort of trust, right? Some sort of rapport?

That was never going to happen.

"Your therapist is going to need a therapist soon enough," Andrew quipped.

"Let's hope the university is paying him enough," Neil agreed. If not... well, it wouldn't bother him at all, if Murray decided that he had better things to do than deal with a bunch of recalcitrant players.

They talked a little more about the training season before Andrew left to do something with Kevin and his family, and Neil stared at his phone for a few seconds before he set it aside and got up from the couch. "You ready?" he called out to Bren, who'd been hovering around the bar.

"Whenever you are," Bren called back as he shrugged out of his jacket then reached down to fetch two practice knives from a shelf behind the elaborate piece of furniture.

Neil used to practice with his own blade before bed down in the room he shared with Jean, but it got a bit cramped once Marley moved in. He'd managed a little practice here and there when she was off with her friends, but lately... lately he felt the urge to resume it on a regular basis. He'd never thought to find any solace in his father's preferred weapon, but he was tired of being underestimated, tired of being overpowered and abused. A knife - especially one wielded with experience - helped to level the playing field.

There was more space up in the East Tower, and after watching him practice alone a few times, Bren had offered himself as a sparring partner, though only if they used dummy blades; he wasn't going to risk cutting Neil up and earning Stuart's and Ichirou's anger as a result. Neil didn't care about any cuts (it was how he'd learned from Lola and his mother and his father, after all) but he didn't want his friend to get into trouble, so dummy blades it was.

Besides, he ended up bruised enough from their sessions; Bren didn't have the same finesse as Neil's mother and Lola, but he had brute strength and plenty of nasty little tricks. It would be enough to remind Neil of his father, except there was never a cruel smile on his friend's face as they sparred and Bren didn’t set out to deliberately harm him.

That afternoon they sparred for about twenty minutes, with Neil landing several strikes on Bren and earning a sore spot on his ribs and a bruised left cheek in return. "You're a slippery little fuck," Bren told him (not for the first time). "I mean, it's a common trait for you Hatfords, but you're especially good at it."

"Thanks." Neil winced as he rubbed at his ribs. "Nice to know I'm good at something."

Dan frowned when she saw Neil at dinner, her gaze fixed on his cheek, but she merely sighed and shook his head. "I thought I'd moved past that," was all she said as she joined Neil, Jean, Marley, Bren and Quentin at their table.

"Okay, moved past what?" Marley asked while everyone else ate their chicken; the one thing that hadn't changed with Noguchi taking over was the menu.

"The whole... you know what, never mind." Dan shook her head. "Is anything going on this weekend?" That seemed to be directed at Neil. "Any plans?"

He gave up on poking at the damn lump of kale and shrugged. "Nothing at the moment." The last time he'd spoken to Ichirou, which had been two days ago, there'd been mention of a trip to Chicago and then San Francisco but nothing out east.

"All right." Dan grinned at that while Jean relaxed and Marley leaned over to take Neil's kale in exchange for her tangerine. "How about coming over to my place on Saturday? Matt's going to be in town so I'm having a cook-out."

Neil glanced at Jean to see if his friend objected before he shrugged again. "Okay." Hanging out with a Fox that wasn't Andrew wasn't high on his list of fun things to do, but he had to do something on Saturday and it was better than going out to some restaurant where people would stare at him and his friends and whisper about them throughout the meal.

"Perhaps we can give the lumbering lout some tips on how to properly play Exy," Jean said with an offended sniff.

For a moment Dan appeared upset about the comment, and then she chuckled. "Oh it's going to be a fun night, I can tell."

"What makes you say that? Two backliners squabbling for hours, _this_ one probably egging them on because he’s a snarky little shit-“

“Hey! We’re not all tall freaks like you,” Neil argued as he shoved an elbow in his friend’s side, uncaring that she’d saved him from kale.

Marley rolled her eyes while Quentin choked back on a laugh and Jean did that haughty stare down the nose thing he did so well. “Right, disagree with the ‘short’ comment, that’s what’s wrong there.”

“He knows better than dispute the ‘snarky shit’ part,” Jean said, more than a little snarky himself.

Neil stared at Bren as he stabbed at a piece of chicken. “I’m beginning to understand why you drink so much.”

“Hate to say it, Red, but I’m usually stuck with your snarky little ass.” Bren laughed when Neil threw a piece of chicken at him. “Aw, you’re still my favorite!”

“Bren, you traitor!” Marley flicked some rice at the enforcer while Dan and Quentin laughed as well, and Neil sat back in his chair as he peeled the tangerine.

“ _Such a devil_ ,” Jean murmured as he picked at his dinner while he eyed their friends. “ _It used to be quiet here, once_.”

“Hmm.” Neil popped a piece of fruit in his mouth. “ _How’s things with Knox_?” The bad thing about taking his calls up in the East Tower and then sticking around to practice with Bren was that he missed being able to join Marley in teasing his friend about his not-crush.

Jean gave him the haughty nose look again and snatched away the rest of the tangerine. “ _Eat your kale_.”

Why had Neil left the East Tower?

He was wondering that again when out on the court at night with several Ravens intent on being the one to score on Ben or Ethan. At first the sophomores had been tentative around him and Jean and Avery, had worried about checking the three of them or getting rough. But Avery had ripped into them and Neil hadn’t held back from shoving them out of his way, nor Jean from knocking them around while blocking the goal.

They might feel guilty for what had happened and concerned for the three of them, but their natural need to win and exceed won out in the end, and they stopped treating them as if they were delicate or about to break down any moment. Still, Neil caught the occasional worried looks when he stood away from everyone but Jean, when he lifted the bottom of his shirt to wipe at the sweat running down his face and exposed the scars on his stomach (the same scars that Ethan and Brian and the rest of the guys saw every day in the showers).

It would be a long season, and he knew it was only going to be worse when they faced off against other teams.

Which was why he didn’t know what to expect when he, Jean and Marley arrived at Dan’s townhouse on Saturday afternoon in Jean’s Maserati, with Bren and Janna in an SUV behind them. Jean had just turned off the engine of the high-end sports sedan when Matt Boyd came barreling out of the front door, dressed in cut-off shorts and Foxes’ t-shirt bearing Dan’s old number on it, a huge grin on his face. “Oh my god, it’s _beautiful_!” He didn’t stop until he was right in front of the Maserati and appeared ready to embrace it.

Neil backed into Jean in his haste to put more space between him and the Foxes’ backliner, while a chuckling Dan, dressed in shorts and a plain blue t-shirt, sauntered out of her home in a much more leisurely pace. “Sorry, he thinks he’s something of a gear-head.”

“Oh my god, I’m in love. Will I get one, too, if I become a Raven?” Boyd babbled as he stalked around the car. “Dan, can I be a Raven? Pretty please?”

She laughed some more while Jean glared at her boyfriend. “Don’t think it’s up to me, hon, now why don’t you stop drooling, okay? You’re making a bad impression.”

“But I’d have one of these _and_ see you all the time!” Boyd whined while grinning at his girlfriend. “And they know me already, I certainly spend enough time on court trying to catch Neil’s speedy little ass.” His grin faltered while Jean’s glare went up a notch and Bren coughed into his right hand. “Uhm, that didn’t come out right, did it?”

It was Marley’s turn to laugh while Neil wondered if it wasn’t too early to return to the Nest. “No, that sounds about right but you could probably have phrased it better.” She patted Neil on the back then motioned toward the small front porch. “He _is_ a speedy little devil.”

“And snarky,” Bren added.

“Fuck you all, I’m going home,” Neil declared as he attempted to snatch at the electronic key Jean held in his hand. “Fine, I’ll hitchhike,” he declared when Jean, the tall bastard, held his right hand up in the air.

“Not until you eat some horrible hotdogs and other processed foods along with the rest of us,” Jean told him. “Whatever our lovely hostess has in store for tonight.”

“Oh hell, I’ve _got_ to talk Coach into trading them for Kevin,” Boyd said as he gaped at them, his grin restored once more.

Meanwhile, for some reason Dan’s expression had turned sour, and Neil wasn’t sure it was because of Jean’s slight to her cooking prowess, not when they’d been teasing her about the menu for the night the last couple of days. “Yeah, wouldn’t that be great.”

The bitterness in her tone made Boyd wince, but before he could say anything, Dan managed a semi-convincible smile and waved at the door behind her. “Come on, let’s get you out of this heat, okay?”

Used to the air-conditioned Nest and Evermore court (even if he spent hours working up a sweat on it) the past couple of years, Neil eagerly agreed, along with the rest of his friends. Once inside Dan’s living room, Bren and Janna introduced themselves to Boyd.

Dan’s home was surprisingly comfortable considering that she spent most of her time at Evermore; there were framed pictures all over the walls from her time at PSU, of her and her fellow Foxes as well as some women who must be friends. The color scheme was earthy – soft creams, tans, gold and ochre with bits of blue – and inviting, a welcome relief after so much time in the Nest. There were a couple of soft-looking loveseats and a large sofa, so seating shouldn’t be a problem that night.

Boyd brought out a pitcher of margarita and some wine coolers for people to drink, but Neil didn’t have anything alcoholic; he’d have a drink or two with Jean and Bren because he trusted them (and if he needed something to de-stress a little), and with Ichirou… well, there wasn’t much he could do with Ichirou, but at least his lover never pushed too many on him. But there was no way he’d drink with Dan and Boyd, would risk becoming too relaxed and saying something he shouldn’t.

Jean and Marley had a wine cooler each, which they nursed over an extended time, and that was it, while Bren indulged in a couple of margaritas ‘since Janna’s driving’. Neil had seen his friend drink before and knew he’d be fine even then, but appreciated Janna abstaining along with him while they discussed Exy and their majors (innocuous topics, all in all).

Boyd stared at Neil, Jean and Marley as they sat on the sofa and sipped their drinks (fruit flavored bottle water for Neil) and snacked on the veggie and cheese tray set out on the coffee table. “Seriously? That’s all you’re drinking?” He glanced at Dan who was sitting next to him. “I mean, I’m not telling them to get drunk or anything, but I’m just… Jack’s always hitting me up to buy him and the others alcohol. I’m not used to this,” he motioned to the three of them again. “Usually everyone’s all over free alcohol.”

“I keep telling you, they’re not what you’d expect.” Dan gave them a rueful smile while she swirled her glass of margarita around in her right hand. “I’m more worried about them passing out from exhaustion and dehydration than alcohol poisoning.” She gave Neil a pointed look for some reason.

“I feel like I’m being called out for some reason,” Neil said as he leaned forward for a piece of cheese, only to scowl when Jean smacked his hand aside and pointed at the pile of carrots. “ _What, it’s dairy. That’s… uhm, calcium_.”

“ _Yes, and now have some vitamins_ ,” he was told.

“ _I’m not a rabbit, dammit_.”

“ _No, you’re a devil, not a cow, so eat_!” Jean picked up a carrot and held it right in front of Neil’s face; meanwhile, Marley blithely swiped up several pieces of cheese while the French bastard was distracted.

It didn’t even make any sense, but Neil gritted his teeth while he snatched at the damn carrot sticks, certain that his partner would just find an even worse vegetable to inflict upon him later. “There’s lime in margaritas, yes?” he threatened. “How about I get my vitamins that way?”

Bren scoffed at that and called his bluff. “Dan there makes a mean drink, Red. We’ll be carrying you out of here if you give it a go.”

Neil made a show of snapping his teeth into the damn carrots while Jean radiated pure smugness and Marley popped a cheese cube in her mouth.

“I have _got_ to come visit you more often, love,” Boyd told a smirking Dan. “This is so much better than listening to Kenny and Jack yell at each other all weekend.”

"It gets even better, hon. Watch this." Dan grinned, the expression one of pure amusement, as she draped her arm over her boyfriend's shoulder. "You looking forward to that American History class this semester?"

" _What_ American History?" Neil and Jean said in unison, while Bren snorted and Janna rolled her eyes.

"But I'm not-"

"Oh no, not again," Marley complained as she scooted forward on the sofa to glare at Neil and Jean. "No more 'you call a _couple_ of centuries history?'. Yes, we do, we're not snobbish, pretentious Euro-trash like some people!" She set the half-empty bottle in her left hand aside so she could wave them about while Jean folded his arms over his chest and Neil narrowed his eyes. "'I used to live in a former outhouse older than this country'. Big friggen deal."

"Yes, why care for anything old when you can embrace the new and idiotic," Jean shot back. "It works so well for you."

"It's called _change_ and you can't even get over stupid little grudges from how long ago?" Marley asked while she motioned to Neil. "Guess what, you _both_ suck and your imperial asses have been kicked out of how many countries now?"

"Yeah, but Britain’s had how many women rulers?" Neil pointed out as he flicked a piece of broccoli at his smirking friend. "Not bad for 'sucking', eh?"

"Oh you did _not_ go there, Shorty," Marley glared as she picked at the vegetable stuck in her hair.

"And _we_ know how to get rid of an oaf or two running the country," Jean said with a disdainful sniff. "Unlike you hopeless children."

It went downhill from there with Bren even joining in on the fight and Boyd laughing as if he was watching a comedy movie, until Dan stood up and clapped her hands together while declaring that it was time to make dinner.

There were surly looks exchanged but everyone followed her outside, where it was a little cooler now that the sun had started to set; she had a small charcoal grill which had been burning the last hour or two. Boyd fussed over the coals and the wire rack on it until Dan shooed him aside so she could put some chicken with a thick, reddish sauce in it, then made him fetch everyone more drinks while she finished getting everything else ready.

They ate barbeque grilled chicken, corn on the cob, potato salad and fruit salad, and Neil found himself enjoying the evening. Per Marley's prediction, Jean and Boyd continued to argue over Exy but it wasn't anything (too) serious, Dan told stories from her first year or two as a Fox, and Jean was coaxed into sharing a few tales about Day as a young striker (while avoiding much mention of Riko). Neil even managed to recount a time in Germany, passing it off as when his mother worked there for a few months (which was mostly true, it had been a quiet interval for them, one of the longest stretches when they'd been left alone).

"This is just... so _weird_ ," Boyd repeated yet again that night as everyone pitched in to help Dan clean up after the meal. "You don't drink, not really, you eat good stuff even on the weekend, you're well-behaved unless someone's trashing your nationality and then you guys... actually, I think I only understood about half of what they were saying," he confessed to Dan, who was placing the rinsed off dishes that Neil handed to her into the dishwasher.

"That's okay, I'll just love you for your body," she told him with an affectionate smile.

"I'm all right with that," he told her back. "Anyway," he continued while glancing around the crowded kitchen. "You're... you're like the anti-Foxes or something."

"And _we're_ all right with that," Jean declared. "Truly. It's a good thing." There was a slight sneer to his lips, even.

"What he means is... yeah, no, I got nothing." Marley shrugged as if in apology and looked over at Neil. "Shorty?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe if more teams, _especially_ the Foxes, stopped wasting time killing off brain cells by drinking and worse, actually put some effort into their practices and didn't eat pizza all of the time, they might be a real challenge to us for once?" Neil arched an eyebrow as he handed over a glass, his thoughts on Andrew at the moment. "I mean, it gets a bit boring, waiting to face off against the Trojans at the end of the season just to have a challenge for once."

Boyd appeared angry upon hearing that, and then he chuckled as he slumped a little more against the fridge. "Okay, I'm beginning to see why you have a bodyguard follow you around everywhere, half-pint."

Neil scowled at the backliner for the comment and the nickname. "Was anything I said not the truth?"

"You're not gonna win this one," Dan sang out as she straightened up. "Trust me. The one way they are like Foxes is that they're stubborn as hell."

"I'm beginning to see that." Boyd shook his head but he didn't seem upset any longer and went to help Jean with the trash.

"So that's the boyfriend," Marley remarked as they drove back to campus. "Seems nice when he's not trying to knock us into the floor, but I'm still gonna kick his ass come fall." Then she chuckled. "Or watch you try to do it, since he's usually your mark," she said as she hugged her arms around the top of Neil's seat.

"Gee, thanks. Here I was thinking something was wrong if you were giving up on Hemmick," Neil said.

"Nah, Hemmick's my sweetie. He's so cute, the way he flails about and screams when I topple him over." She hummed in happiness as she sank back into her seat.

" _Mother in heaven, what did I do to deserve this_?" Jean asked in a beseeching manner.

" _I wonder the same thing about your driving_." Neil was quick to cover his head with his arms and avoid the smack to it. "Both hands on the steering wheel! _Both_! What did we say about that!"

" _Impudent devil_ ," Jean muttered, but it lacked its usual heat - probably because he had to jerk the car back into its lane.

They made it back to the Nest in one piece (something that Neil had mixed feelings being grateful for, all in all), and the next day Neil gave Andrew an update on the dinner. “Boyd seems all right, I guess.”

“He’s one of the better morons on the team.” For some reason Neil had the impression that Andrew wasn’t happy at the moment. “Took him some time to get his act together.”

“Ah.” Neil wondered if that comment had anything to do with the track marks that he’d seen on the backliner’s arms; Boyd had made a comment to Janna when he’d caught her staring that he was a couple of years clean, smiling all the while, and it wasn’t a secret that the Foxes had troubled pasts. Neil didn’t particularly care, but he knew Bren and Janna were there to watch out for him and so wouldn’t risk him (or Jean and Marley) coming into contact with anything addictive that would ruin their careers.

Not that he thought that Dan would allow such a thing to happen, either.

“Well, it was better than watching some boring movie in a crowded theater,” he admitted. “Or putting up with people gawking at us all night.”

He mustn’t have kept his voice as blank as he’d hoped, because Andrew clicked his tongue. “Gawking? Is that all they do?” When Neil didn’t say anything, he clicked his tongue again. “Chirp chirp, little bird.”

“Yip yip, lazy fox,” Neil snapped as he jumped up from the couch and began to stalk around the spacious room, which startled Bren as he leaned against the bar and texted on his phone. Despite the open space and the wall of windows, Neil felt trapped all of a sudden, felt the urge to run and not stop.

But that wasn’t possible, was it? He didn’t have the access codes to get out of the Nest, didn’t have the key to his own damn car, didn’t have anywhere he could go where people couldn’t see the damn ‘4’ on his cheek, couldn’t recognize him eventually. Where Ichirou couldn’t pull him back because of Jean and Marley and the other Ravens, because of a promise and debts and threats of blood and pain.

“Neil? Speak to me. _Breathe_ , you idiot.”

Neil didn’t realize that he was panting as he stalked around the room, his feet swishing through the thick carpet from his fast pace. Andrew’s voice sounded tinny despite the phone being pressed so hard against the side of his face, and Neil whirled around when he spotted motion out of the corner of his eye, whirled around to find Bren approaching.

“Don’t!” he choked out, the word like sandpaper in his throat, and he flung his empty left hand out to stop him in his tracks, Bren’s own right hand outheld with a glass of whisky in it. “Duh-don’t,” Neil stuttered as he struggled to breathe.

“What the _fuck_ is going on? Neil!”

“Panic attack,” Bren called out while Neil fought to inhale normally, to get the air in and out of his lungs. “He seems to realize where he is at least. Come on, Red, don’t pass out on me. You might not weigh much but I don’t wanna have to carry you all the way back to your room. That’s damn far.”

A strangled laugh escaped Neil as he fell to his knees while Andrew did the whole ‘breathe in, breathe out’ thing over the phone. He fought to focus on that, to push down the emotions that had come out of nowhere and overwhelmed him, and slowly the tightness eased up in his chest and the buzzing faded in his head.

Bren crept forward to set the glass of whisky down on the carpet within arm’s reach. “Don’ even like it,” Neil complained.

“Tough, have a little, you need it,” he was told. “I’ll get you some water and Mo’ll have tea for you when we get back downstairs.”

Neil grimaced but picked up the glass while Andrew inhaled deeply over the phone. “You really believe that shit about tea fixing everything?”

“Uhm, it at least helps.” Neil winced as he gulped down the alcohol; it burned his throat but it soon produced a warm sensation in his stomach. “And… sorry.” He hated that he’d broken down while talking to Andrew.

His friend was quiet for a couple of seconds. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’, then.”

Neil needed a moment to remember their previous topic (what had most likely set him off) and wished that Bren handed him another glass of whisky instead of water. “Ah….”

“It’s that bad?”

Neil huddled in on himself and almost spilled the water. “Yeah.” He took a sip then set it aside. “They don’t come too close because of Bren and Marley, but it’s… it’s the whispers and the pointing and… and everything.” He’d thought that he was getting used to the attention, to people _looking_ at him and being unable to hide. Yet this was something different. “I need to deal with it, to… I don’t know, but it’s going to be worse come fall.” When he had to deal with the other students and players. When he had to deal with the fact that Ross and Federov had revealed some of his worst secrets to _everyone_.

“Neil… it’s not your fault,” Andrew told him, his voice deeper than usual. “You did nothing wrong. You have nothing to be ashamed about, nothing to hide.”

If only it were that simple. “Thank you,” Neil said as he tucked his legs against his chest.

“I mean it, you idiot.”

“I know.”

Despite the panic attack, talking to Andrew was the highlight of his week. Practice was intense and Dr. Murray was annoying, and Neil spent the following weekend with Ichirou in New York City.

Even with normal days, summer was busy and intense – the team needed to be perfect, needed to be prepared for what the rest of the division would throw at them come the start of the season. They needed to have the sophomores integrated so there was no weakness, needed the freshmen ready to face the onslaught because it was going to be more than the usual hatred and envy thrown at the team come fall.

The other teams had tried to tear them down over Day leaving, over Riko falling apart, over Jean stepping in as Captain and then over Tetsuji stepping aside. None of that had allowed the others a crack at pulling down the reigning champions, in fracturing their unity, their drive for perfection. Now they would try to use the pain of the past against them.

The Ravens _refused_ to allow that to happen, not when Tetsuji and Riko and their pet monsters couldn’t do it.

They would face the division together and refuse to break, to give any ground.

Neil stood beside Jean as they watched a rare scrimmage between the lower ranked players, Dan and Noguchi busy calling out corrections and plays as Trey snatched up the ball and attempted to reach Lea in the opposite goal. The freshmen were trying their best, but there was a marked difference between them and the sophomores, which was evident when Philip managed to steal the ball away with ease.

“ _Not too bad, but none of them will be ready for court for a couple of months at least_ ,” Jean mused as he leaned against his racquet.

_“Bailey and Mohit show the most promise so far, but yeah, it’ll be midseason the earliest before they can hope for any game time_ ,” Neil agreed while he fidgeted with his bandana in an attempt to hold back his bangs. Of course those were the two rookies whom Marley had picked to be her lackeys for the year.

“ _The earliest_.” Jean hummed a little of La Marseillaise for a moment before he sighed. “ _We face the Hornets in about a week. I think.. I think we’re ready_.”

A little more than a week to the first game of the season – they had a home game against the Wilkes-Meyers Hornets, who were one of the better teams of the division but not the best. Neil was willing to bet a few months free of seeing Ichirou that the Hornets would do whatever they could in an attempt to even up the score a bit, maybe even rattle the Ravens enough to win.

It wasn’t going to happen.

“ _Well, we’re here for you, Captain_ ,” Neil told him. “ _Unless, you know, you lead us eastward or onto water, because you French bastards don’t have a good track record there_.”

Jean was quiet for a second or two, and then Neil found himself struggling to keep his bandana from being shoved down his throat while a certain captain ranted about British devils.

*******

Andrew stared after Kevin, who was off talking to Wymack on the other side of the court. The last couple of weeks the two had been getting along rather well, the whole 'who's your daddy' thing apparently behind them except for a few awkward moments on the court. Kevin said that Wymack had confessed the truth to the Board about him suddenly being saddled with fatherhood, but otherwise they were keeping that fact a secret (except for telling a couple of other people) for the time being.

It wasn't like Andrew cared, other than Kevin had finally calmed down since he didn't have to worry about Moreau or anyone else using that threat against him anymore. In fact, he appeared almost peaceful anymore, between talking to Wymack and settling things with Ichirou Moriyama. Even being dumped by Muldani seemed to have done him some good, though he paid more attention to the ex-Raven now than he had in months.

All that renewed sense of confidence meant that Kevin kept dragging Andrew off to the court even more than usual, which Andrew only allowed because Katelyn was back on campus with the rest of the Vixens for their summer practice and, true to Aaron's warnings, spending some evenings in the suite with his brother when Aaron wasn't hanging out in hers or with Boyd. There was only so much of her pleased smile Andrew could take at one time.

Kevin was determined to be recruited by the Sirens and for Andrew to be scouted by the best pro teams out there, and was enough of a pain in the ass that Andrew felt a rare satisfaction lobbing balls at his head. Bee might be on to something about venting his emotions and not always keeping things bottled up inside. Maybe.

Balls at Kevin and Boyd, who spent just about every other weekend off in Charleston with Wilds and came back to campus talking about how 'adorable' Neil was, about how fun it was to spend time hanging out with him and Moreau and Patel.

Jealousy was a useless, petty emotion, and Andrew would rip it out from his chest if he could. Neil wasn't a possession, wasn't something he could lock away from everyone else, so why feel such a ridiculous thing? At least this way he knew that his (stop it) little bird was all right (as much as ever, at least).

If Boyd didn't stop saying talking about smuggling Neil back in his carry-on bag and hiding him in his room, Andrew was going to take a racquet to his head.

Practice finally came to an end (classes started in two days, with an away game at the Cavaliers in four); Wymack, Boyd and Curtis were pushing hard to get some sort of cohesion out of the team and start the season off better than last year. Matheson and Hurst had settled down a little (a _little_ \- more to do with increased competition for their spots than maturity), while the (now former) rookies were a bit more stable that year (at least while out on court).

Andrew kept telling himself two more years.

He'd just returned to Fox Tower and was about to head up to the roof since Aaron was busy texting on his phone, a sure sign that Katelyn was about to come down and visit, when Boyd called out his name. "Hey, can you stop by for a minute?"

For a moment Andrew was about to ignore him, but the past weekend had been one where the backliner had been in Charleston so he shrugged while Kevin, Aaron and Nicky continued on to their suite. "I came over last night, but you and Kevin were already at court," Body explained as he unlocked the door to his own suite; Matheson made a face and stalked off with Hurst while Yee and Curtis must have gone off to dinner already. The place was a mess with clothes and sports magazines strewn all over the floor and furniture, so Andrew stood on a bare spot with his arms crossed over his chest and said nothing.

Boyd gave him a sheepish look and rubbed at the back of his neck. "Yeah, sorry about this, just give me couple of seconds." He went over to where his bags from the weekend were still left out by the couch. "Kenny and Jack are bad about their things and I have to admit, I'm slacking with Dan gone. Being away on weekends doesn't help, though I'm racking up the frequent flyer miles!" He chuckled as he dug around in the one bag. "Anyway, Dan had the gang over for dinner again on Saturday, and Neil asked me to give you something." He was grinning as he handed over a small gift bag.

Andrew eyed it for a moment before he accepted the thing; it looked like it had come from an expensive store and even had tissue paper covering its contents. He reached inside and let the bag drop to the floor, followed by the paper as he unwrapped what he assumed to be a present, and internally sighed over what turned out to be some sort of black dog-like figure with bat wings, a white skull face and bones on it, and even a tiny little scythe in its one paw.

"Aw, that's so cute!" Boyd all but cooed, his grin slipping at the flat look Andrew gave him before he spun on his heel and left the room to go straight up to the roof.

It took about twenty minutes before Neil answered his 'what the fuck' text.

"Did you like it? I couldn't find a fox but I thought that was close enough," his idiot said, amusement plain in his voice.

“What the _fuck_ is it?” Andrew asked again.

“Uhm, some sort of goth-baby thing? At least, that’s what the sign said, I’m sorry but I couldn’t find a _lazy_ one, either.” He outright laughed when Andrew told him to fuck off and die then hung up so he could join the others for dinner, that damn warm, tingly sensation back in his chest because of Neil being in a good mood despite classes (and the season) about to start at Edgar Allan.

He didn’t put his phone away until he took a photo of him dangling the damn thing in the air above campus and sent a picture off to his little bird with the text ‘so sad it fell, next time it’ll be you’. Then he tucked his phone into his back pocket and carried the awful plushie downstairs.

Nicky actually squealed when he saw it while Katelyn ‘awwed’. “It’s so cute!” she said as she approached, mindful not to come within arm’s reach (she was a clever one, he had to give her that). “It’s from Neil, right?”

Like he said, clever.

“What? Neil’s sending you things now?” For some reason Nicky looked ready to cry even as he smiled. “I have to take a picture of this! Erik’s never gonna bel-“

“Take out your camera and I’m breaking it,” Andrew warned as he headed to the bedroom so he could bury the damn thing in a drawer or something.

“Aw, come _on_! This is a big step! You’re exchanging presents and-“

“And I’ll break your hand, too.”

“No, you won’t!” Kevin yelled from his desk where he was watching yet another stupid stickball game. “He’s not great but he’s still better than the freshmen.”

“Really? _Really_?” Nicky wailed while Andrew walked away. “ _That’s_ what concerns you?”

“Everyone shut the hell up so we can go out to dinner! I’m hungry,” Aaron complained.

Andrew put the plushie in the top drawer of his dresser right around when his phone pinged with a message from Neil. He opened it to reveal a picture of a sad-faced Neil hugging the fox plushie and the message ‘lazy fox goth so mean’.

He’d already known it, but it was official – the universe hated him.

So he typed back ‘hate you and your little dog too’ before he closed the drawer and left the room to find everyone (including _Katelyn_ , of course, it was turning into that type of day) waiting for him so they could leave and go eat pizza (much to Kevin’s despair – at least someone else was suffering, too).

Neil’s reply was ‘????’. Somehow, Andrew wasn’t surprised that he didn’t get the reference.

The little bird’s mood did a 180 the next day, the night before classes started. Andrew spent most of the evening up on the roof while Kevin went off with Wymack for some stupid bonding thing and did his best to distract Neil with stories about the first year living with Nicky and his cousin’s asinine attempts at being a parent to him and Aaron. Looking back… all right, there was some sort of twisted humor to be found in the situation, in a messed-up guy barely more than a kid himself struggling to connect with two highly fucked up teenagers. Nicky had indeed tried his best to create some sort of home for them, the first safe one either Andrew and Aaron ever had.

It still had been a disaster.

In return, Neil shared some stories about his life on the run, of learning new languages and dialects, of culture clashes and near-constant confusion. Andrew suspected that, much like that first year with Nicky, it hadn’t been ‘fun’ at the time, but something that Neil could look back on and shake his head at, could find some amusement with time and distance.

With many things, it was all a matter of perspective.

They talked for a couple of hours, until Moreau chided Neil to get some rest ahead of their busy day. Andrew told Neil to go as well, and stayed on the roof long enough to smoke another cigarette while looking over the campus.

Kevin was still gone when he returned to the room, where Nicky was fussing over what to wear the next day while Katelyn and Aaron sat on the couch. Andrew gave them a bland look before he dropped onto one of the beanbag chairs.

“Neil ready for the big day tomorrow?” Nicky asked as he held up a bright blue dress shirt in his left hand and pale lavender t-shirt with some droopy-eyed cat on the front in his right.

Katelyn picked the t-shirt and Aaron the dress shirt.

“Don’t you have a room of your own?” Andrew asked the girl.

She gave him a too-sweet smile. “I’m making up for lost time, that and Laura’s dating Charley.”

Andrew gazed at Aaron since that part meant nothing to him. “Charley from the football team,” his brother explained in-between organizing his backpack for the next day. “His roommates are assholes so Laura won’t go over there.”

Wonderful, so that meant Andrew got to suffer, perhaps he should look into some sort of tent on the roof. Then he thought of sleeping on hard surfaces and lack of air conditioning during the summer and heat in the winter and gave Katelyn a narrow look, which only made her smile widen. “Definitely the cat shirt, Nicky, it’s just so cute,” she said. “We need more cuteness around here.”

“I know! Too much grumpiness,” he agreed as he gave Andrew and Aaron a pointed look. “I’m so happy to have someone on my side at last!” He grinned while Aaron gagged and Andrew gave his cousin the finger.

The two pests talked about shoes and accessories while Aaron ignored them and Andrew contemplated physically picking up the girl (yes, it involved touching her but it was a sacrifice he was willing to make) and throwing her out of the room, but Aaron glanced up from the text book he was scanning through to shake his head as if reading Andrew’s mind.

Dammit, why did he have to make that deal?

Katelyn finally left for the night and Nicky then Aaron went to bed, but Andrew waited up for Kevin to return despite them starting early morning practices the next day. He was about to call Wymack to ask what the hell was going on when the door to the suite opened to admit the two men, both of them grinning like idiots.

There was a whiff of bourbon to them but they weren’t trashed, just morons which was a permanent condition, sadly. Andrew stood there and stared at them as Kevin came to a halt in front of him with a bandage on his left cheek and a proud grin on his face.

At least, until Andrew continued to stare at him in silence. “Uhm… I did a thing. You know… a _thing_.”

Andrew fixed his gaze on a still grinning Wymack. “It’s a little small for ‘in case found, return to David Wymack’, which is the only thing I want to hear right now.”

Their ‘beloved’ coach scoffed at that. “Not quite.” He stood there beaming while a scowling Kevin peeled away the bandage to reveal a freshly inked chess piece on his left cheek – a queen, at that.

“How much did you drink? You didn’t even get the sport right,” Andrew was kind enough to point out.

“Yes, I did!” Someone was so amusing when they were all indignant, their green eyes flashing and spine all stiff; despite the superficial differences, Kevin resembled a certain bleeding heart coach an awful lot right then. “It’s a queen, the deadliest piece on the chessboard, dammit.” He raised his left hand to cup his cheek while his eyes lost focus as if he was deep in thought. “Riko always wanted to be king, the most important player on court, the most coveted one of all, and was willing to sacrifice _everything_ to keep his throne.” A small, sad smile twisted Kevin’s lips as he gazed at Andrew. “And I helped him, I moved where he told me, obeyed his orders and was his pawn, his and Tetsuji’s.” Off to his side, Wymack stood quiet and intent, a source of support as he reached out to give Kevin’s right shoulder a firm squeeze.

Kevin shuddered as he lowered his hand, the sadness wiped from his expression. “Riko may be gone and Tetsuji’s hiding away, but it’s not too late to show everyone else that I’m not their pawn anymore, that I’m done playing _their_ game. Riko wanted to be a king? Well, _I’ll_ be the queen and break all the rules, do whatever I want without them holding me back anymore.”

Andrew met his defiant gaze and clicked his tongue. “About damn time,” was all he said, but it seemed to be what Kevin needed to hear since his shoulders slumped with relief and he smiled. “I’m going to bed, you lousy alcoholics.”

“Oi! Like you’re one to talk, you damn midget,” Wymack called out before giving Kevin a hug and wishing him a good night.

Since he’d already gotten ready earlier, Andrew went straight to bed while Kevin went to wash off and was in his bunk when his friend stumbled into the room, the bandage back into place. He made sure that Kevin laid down before he closed his eyes and soon was asleep.

Five-thirty AM came much too soon.

The Foxes made too much noise over Kevin’s altered tattoo, enough that Andrew found a treadmill far away from them and walked on it until Wymack yelled at them to calm down. Then he lifted weights until he went off to class, where he spent most of the time checking his phone for any messages from Neil or Kevin.

There weren’t any.

Kevin was in a good mood when they met up at lunch; the tattoo had attracted a lot of attention on campus, yet none of the Exy addict’s social anxiety had kicked in. “You need to get dumped more often,” Andrew told him as he picked up a French fry.

“I didn’t… it’s just a misunderstanding,” Kevin insisted as he speared a piece of broccoli with his fork.

“Right, a misunderstanding that Muldani didn’t dump your ass.”

“Thea just needs a little space right now,” Kevin said as he glanced aside.

“Does she know that? Because I think she’ll give you some space by smacking you upside your thick head if you tell her that in person.” That could be amusing, except no one got to smack Kevin around but Andrew.

All Andrew heard from Neil that day was a couple of texts which indicated that his friend had suffered through a good bit of stares and whispers but otherwise was ‘all right’.

As ‘all right’ as someone could be after having something so traumatic and damaging blasted over the internet for everyone to see by their abuser, especially someone as guarded as Neil. Someone whose life depended on keeping secrets.

Andrew couldn’t imagine if Aaron and Nicky knew about Drake and all the others – he wasn’t ashamed of what had happened to him because it wasn’t his fault, there was nothing to feel guilty about, but he knew they’d see things differently.

He’d do whatever he could to keep them from finding out.

Friday was traveling to Virginia to play the Cavaliers, which meant getting on board the bus and dealing with another batch of excited rookies who would soon learn that there was nothing fun about spending half the season traveling all over the southeast to games. Andrew divided the time between napping, reading a new book and checking his Instagram account for pictures of Neil; Patel finally updated the Ravens’ account with images of a beleaguered Neil surrounded by a new pack of freshmen and then one of him stretching, bent nearly perfectly in half (that was racking up quite a hit count), among others.

The press descended upon the Foxes once they arrived at UVA, having caught wind of Kevin’s modified tattoo somehow. Kevin was all too happy to show it off and give his little spiel about breaking free from Riko and his ex-partner’s ‘Perfect Court’, how he was moving forward to create his own legacy and play by his own ideals, and was proud to see that the Ravens were doing the same. He didn’t let the reporters drag out the summer’s scandal, instead he referenced Noguchi and the changes that the man had made and said that he - as well as the rest of the Foxes – looked forward to playing the Ravens later in the season.

Not bad. At least the addict did a better job giving speeches than his old man.

The Cavaliers were a decent team and the Foxes were still working on coming together… but they weren’t the mess they were last year and Kevin not only had regained full function of his left hand but his confidence, too. White had calmed down a bit while Hayes focused better during his time in the goal. The Foxes weren’t ready for Breckenridge and definitely not for the Trojans (even without Knox) or the Ravens, but they were getting there.

They won the game by five points, which even had Aaron in a good mood (which he quickly stifled when Nicky noticed) and Kevin vowing to drag the team to the semi-finals at the least (he was clearly aiming for another showdown with the Ravens, not that Andrew would object).

It was a rowdy bus ride back to Palmetto with most of the team celebrating. Andrew tucked himself into the last seat and pulled out his phone to check on the Ravens as Kevin leaned over the seat in front of his with obvious impatience. “Well?”

“Hush.” Andrew tabbed through the Exy News site for the Southeast NCAA Class I Division games. “They won.”

“No shit,” Kevin said with a heavy dose of sarcasm, which earned him a flat look. “The score?”

Not that he’d show it, but Andrew was duly impressed. “23-8.” The Ravens had trounced the Hornets, who usually weren’t bad; he pulled up a highlight from the game and raised the volume so they could hear it over the imbeciles yelling at the front of the bus.

The announcer seemed of much the same opinion as Andrew – the Hornets just had their ass handed to them by some very determined Ravens. As Andrew and Kevin watched part of the game, it became clear that the Hornets had lived up to Neil’s (and Andrew’s) fear of being willing to use the scandal in an attempt to weaken the other team, judging from how they’d targeted the women players as well as Neil and Moreau with the obvious body checks, too-long pins against the walls, illegal herding and so forth. There was also a lot of name-calling and taunts which even the cameras could pick up and have to bleep out, all of which had led to an excessive amount of yellow and red-cards, benched Hornets and one hell of a unified team of Ravens, even more so than the previous season.

Last year they’d been proving that they could play without their king, had been stepping out of his shadow. This year they were proving that the bastard hadn’t broken them (not completely), that no one could break them. They might be cracked and damaged, but together they were still better than anyone else out on court.

Andrew had a feeling that taking their crown away wouldn’t be an easy thing, because wounded creatures often were the nastiest.

Neil and Moreau gave a brief interview post-game, with Wilds and Noguchi hovering behind them the entire time. They talked about the new line-up and how it was working, about the newer players bringing some energy to the team and Noguchi being a great coach while Neil teased Wilds about how she was still trying to recover from the lack of any awful orange on the court, which made her quip that she just had to look at his head to feel at home. The idiot even got a few jabs in about the Hornets, his eyes flaring bright with anger as he commented on their lack of skill, and then some asshole had to bring up the ‘rumors’ about the abuse.

Noguchi put an end to the interview immediately and made it clear that, moving forward, his players would _only_ be talking about the games and the current season. Andrew thought he saw Wilds knock a reporter aside when they tried to shove a camera in Neil’s face on the little bird’s way out.

There was no call or text that night from Neil, but Andrew supposed that there were guests up in the East Tower.

Neil called on Saturday, his voice subdued and Bren cursing in the background. “What the hell?” Andrew asked, which seemed to be an ongoing theme lately.

“I’m borrowing a page from your book,” Neil explained, more or less.

“He’s gone balmy, he has!” Bren shouted. “Get the fuck down, Red!”

“ _Neil_.”

“I’m not going to fall!” Now Neil sounded annoyed. “It’s perfectly safe up here.”

“ _Neil_ ,” Andrew repeated. “What the _hell_?”

“We’re on campus now, remember? We have to spend weekends in the team’s house so I need some quiet place to go. I’m on the roof,” Neil said while Bren resumed cursing. “It’s actually really nice up here.”

Andrew felt a headache coming on, which wasn’t that unusual when dealing with a certain unstable little bird. “You climbed out onto the roof of some old huge house.”

“Yeah.” Now Neil sounded confused. “You do it all the time.”

He was on the flat surface of… it wasn’t the same. Mostly wasn’t the same. He didn’t want to think about why he was up on the roof. “I will kick what remains of your ass if you fall off.”

That earned him a scoff. “Not gonna happen.” It sounded like Bren muttered something about throttling his fool neck first. “You two worry too much.”

One wondered why.

“Hey, you won! Congrats on that, not that you care. And, uhm… Day likes chess? Jean’s a bit confused by that, but it’s a… no, sorry, it’s not a _bad_ look for him, but whatever makes him happy?”

Someone was deflecting. “He’s making a point,” Andrew said as he exhaled smoke through his nose and attempted to move on from the image of foolish little birds falling off roofs.

“Okay.” Andrew then imagined that Neil was chewing on his bottom lip just then and hated that he closed his eyes to savor the visual – the falling one would be better, dammit. “Still not getting it, but whatever.”

“He’s not part of the Perfect Court anymore, not tied to Riko. What would you do in his shoes, hmm?”

The line was quiet for about a minute before Neil gave a sad not-laugh. “We’ll never find out, will we? I mean, the Barons’ already have my number reserved, it’s never going away.”

Something sour twisted in Andrew’s stomach and flooded his mouth at the thought of just how completely the Moriyamas owned Neil, how they’d plotted out his life from the day his bastard father had handed him over. He was more than property, he was a long-term investment they intended to milk for every cent possible.

“Neil….”

“It’s fine,” the little bird lied. “I hardly notice the thing anymore.”

Liar liar, pants on fire. Or, more exactly, Neil’s whole world burning in flames with him trapped in that gilded cage.

Andrew had to remind himself of all the reasons why he couldn’t drive up to New York City and kill the man holding the key to that cage – his family, Kevin, Bee, Renee.

“You won, too,” he said once the rage had been pushed back down. “Rather impressive.”

“Yeah.” There was a weary sigh before Neil switched to German. “ _You saw it, huh_?”

“ _Kevin played it earlier today. The Hornets are going to lose just as badly this Friday with a third of their team benched_.”

“ _They deserve it_.” Neil’s voice was tight with anger. “ _They also deserved my racquet through their guts but Coach promised to bench us for two games if we got red-carded, said we can’t start playing like that. Those bastards thought they could_ -“ He let out a harsh breath then scoffed.

Andrew had a feeling that he’d enjoy playing against the Hornets in a few weeks. “ _What did they do? Hmm? Come now, sing me a little song_.”

“ _Such an asshole_ ,” Neil muttered, as expected. “ _They taunted Jean and me about going back to their locker room for some ‘fun’, the same thing they did to the girls, stuff like that. Said we must be looking for some real guys and a bunch of other shit, called us names. You could see the rest. For once, I don’t think anyone’s claiming that the refs gave us preferential treatment_.”

No, if anything some people were saying that the refs should have stepped in sooner, but the Ravens had won in the end. It was clear that the team had put up with a hell of a lot, though.

“ _Beat down enough teams and they’ll learn to keep their mouths shut_ ,” Andrew said after a long pause. “ _That or they’ll get tired of losing with half their team on the bench_.”

“ _It all comes down to winning and losing in the end_ ,” Neil remarked in a subdued tone. “ _It’s all that matters_.”

No, it wasn’t, but Andrew had dealt with one Exy addict long enough to not even bother with that battle. “ _You’ve got less brains than that stuffed fox I sent you_ ,” was all he said instead.

“ _That stuffed fox would put up a better defense than a lazy goth than you_ ,” Neil shot back.

“ _That stuffed fox gives more of a damn_ ,” Andrew argued.

“ _How sad_.”

“ _Not at all_.” Andrew paused to light another cigarette. “ _He was there last night, wasn’t he_?”

“ _Don’t_ ,” Neil said, his voice suddenly hoarse. “ _Don’t ask anything_.”

Andrew stilled with the flame still burning on his lighter. “ _That’s not how this works, remember? You’re supposed to tell me if something’s wrong_.”

There was another brittle, broken not-laugh. “ _Me? I’m… I’m fine_.” That time Neil didn’t pull off a successful lie, not really.

“Neil _, dammit_.” Why the hell did Renee have to be off playing in South Africa when he needed her?

“No.” His little bird gave a shaky breath while Bren murmured something. “ _No, it was… it was a… a warning. An example. **Not me**_ ,” he added in a rush when Andrew’s vision hazed and the cigarette crumbled between his fingers. “ _But… but I probably couldn’t go back up there even if we were in the Nest, I suppose. Not today_.” Now he sounded worn down.

Part of Andrew hated that there was a perfectly good murder scene that he could have used last night, gone to waste.

Part of him hated how just a tone of voice twisted him up inside until he trembled with all these _awful_ emotions.

And part of him hated how Neil had no _fucking_ clue about any of that.

He was down in the basement of Fox Tower on Sunday even though Renee was gone, a victim of old habits and the need to get away from a crowded suite. At the least he figured he could mock up some sort of dummy and punch the shit out of it, and was surprised to find Curtis down there shadow boxing – or trying.

She blinked in surprise at him and then smiled. “Oh, you came.”

He narrowed his eyes at that comment and went to turn around when she called out his name. “Andrew, you’re here for a reason. I know Renee suggested that we spar together before she left so can’t you consider it?”

He turned back around to find her standing there with her hands on her hips and a sheen of sweat on her brow; she was dressed like usual when she sparred with Renee, with her light brown hair pulled back in a bun and in workout clothes that gave little chance to be grabbed or pulled. “You’re not Renee.”

“No, but I-“

“She knows how to fight,” Andrew stated. “More than just blocking and a few jabs. You’ve seen her afterwards. We don’t fight fair.”

“So?” When he didn’t react to that, Curtis huffed and jerked her right hand through the air. “So? You think I’m afraid of a few bruises? I didn’t go to some gym and sign up for a boxing class, you know. I want to know how to fight for real, and nothing’s fair in life.”

He eyed her for a couple of seconds before he shrugged. “I’ll punch Yee if he gives me any shit about you.”

“I’ll punch him first,” Curtis argued. “He should know by now not to do things like that for me.”

Whatever. Andrew shrugged out of his sweatshirt and went to the center of the room, which Curtis had already cleared, and she joined him there after fetching her own knives (it looked as if Renee had passed on one of her few remaining blades).

She wasn’t a total pushover, but it was half the fight it was with Renee – so more than Andrew had expected but still not as good as he liked. Still, it was something, was a way to vent some of the coiled anger and tension inside of him.

They didn’t sit and share a bottle of water afterward, didn’t talk (or something like that), but when Curtis asked if he’d be down next week, Andrew gave her a curt nod.

Bee was excited when she heard about it for some reason, which Andrew didn’t understand. He pointed out that he was just beating up on a girl and that Aaron was fighting with Curtis’ boyfriend, so didn’t that mean that Bee failed as a therapist?

“Considering it’s the two of you? I think anyone else would agree it’s still some sort of willing interaction and classify it as a win,” Bee shot back in a wry tone.

Nice to see she was taking things so seriously.

Aaron continued to uphold his end of the promise (which meant no throwing a certain Vixen out of the suite, dammit) and attended the weekly sessions with Bee, while Andrew saw her an additional two days in the afternoon during the week. There was only so much he could say about Neil… but Bee was good at what she did and used the whole Ravens scandal thing for Andrew to generalize a few topics he’d been reluctant (unwilling) to breach before, both in regards to him and Neil.

He didn’t expect to ever be ‘fixed’, to have his broken pieces fit back together, the damage inflicted upon him by Drake and all the others magically undone. He couldn’t ever forget all that pain and abuse and degradation, would live with the scars and nightmares forever. But he could do something to mitigate the worst of it, to lay a few demons to rest… all because a certain stubborn, idiotic little bird refused to (couldn’t) do it.

This couldn’t be a case of the blind leading the blind, not when they’d just stumble along and into the various minefields of each other’s traumas. If Neil was trapped in his (worsening, tightening) gilded cage, Andrew would have to man up and deal with things as best he could in hopes of one day cramming a few vital lessons down Neil’s throat.

Before he fell off a fucking roof or something – Patel had posted a picture of the Ravens’ ‘official’ house on the Edgar Allan campus, and Andrew was ready to stab Bren for letting Neil out a damn window of the huge, Victorian-era structure with its sharply sloped roofs.

At least the Ravens charged through the season on a winning streak, fueled on by grim determination and a sense of retribution, of a dark ‘I’ll show you’ and ‘you can’t hurt me anymore’ mood that Andrew knew all too well. Something similar pushed Kevin as well, drove him to deal with the last of his Moriyama-based issues and show up on court almost every day with a drive to succeed which annoyed the hell out of the Foxes while it encouraged them at the same time.

They were currently 3-0 for the season themselves, although they had yet to face Breckenridge or the Ravens, the current top-ranked teams in the southeast Class I division. The ERC had scheduled the Foxes to play Breckenridge after the Fall banquet and the Ravens in the middle of October.

The Ospreys were hosting the Fall Banquet that year, which meant a wonderful flight to Florida. As much as Andrew disliked flying, he looked forward to a weekend where he could see Neil and know that his friend was safe from Ichirou, that it should be some sort of break.

No, all Neil and the other Ravens had to endure were two days with another dozen Exy teams all too happy to tear them apart.

“Dan says that there’s been a lot of talk among the teams’ coaches about this banquet,” Neil confided in Andrew the Sunday before the event. “There’s supposed to be a zero tolerance policy next weekend.”

“Boyd said the same thing.” Apparently, the coaches and referees were growing tired of all the foul talk and resulting bad publicity it generated when the Ravens played. The team always had its rabid fans, but they were garnering new ones and increased sympathy over how the other teams continued to use the scandal against them – or at least attempted to do so. “The ERC will be watching.”

Neil scoffed at that. “Yeah, I’m sure it’ll do a lot of good. I mean, what’s the chances of something happening right beneath their noses?”

Someone was a little bitter, weren’t they? It wasn’t like Neil didn’t have many reasons to be that way, did he? “Wymack, Wilds and Noguchi will be watching,” Andrew reminded the idiot. “I’ll be watching.”

The line was quiet for several seconds before Neil sighed. “Don’t do anything stupid that’ll get you suspended or thrown off the team. I know you’re a lazy bastard, but you still make the games _somewhat_ interesting.”

Andrew should have hit him harder with that racquet back in Arizona when he had the chance.

The Foxes flew out Saturday afternoon so they could reach the University of North Florida’s campus in time for the banquet, the freshmen excited to attend their first formal Exy event and everyone else not so much. There had been a few texts from Neil since the Ravens had left a little earlier, more complaints from him having to deal with Patel and the freshmen. There were pictures of the team at the airport, of Neil huddled next to Moreau with a closed-off expression on his face while it appeared as if several of the Ravens were attempting to block some overenthusiastic fans from getting too close to the two.

The Foxes landed in Florida and took a shuttle bus that the University of North Florida had arranged for them to reach campus, where they went through the usual routine of going into one of the locker rooms to change into their dress clothes. Boyd seemed a bit uncomfortable with the role of team captain, which wasn’t helped by the fact that Tony Miller, the Osprey’s captain, was standoffish and barely said three words in greeting to him. He did manage to be friendlier with Kevin, the asshole, but Kevin barely paid him any attention and Blackwell’s arrival meant that the Foxes got to move on and find their table.

They weren’t seated next to the Ravens, but that team was just another table away rather than completely across the court. Andrew craned his head to find Neil seated between Moreau and Patel, as usual, and dressed in the usual black. His friend was busy talking to Moreau, his expression still the blank one from earlier, while Patel and several other Ravens glared at the Spartan players seated across from them.

Andrew was willing to bet that the message to play nice and be polite hadn’t gotten across to all of the teams.

Meanwhile, the Belmonte players across from the Foxes seemed willing to stir some shit of their own. “So, any grand predictions for the year?” their captain asked Boyd with a sneer. “I could use a good laugh, go on and tell us how you’re going to make it to the semi-finals or something.”

Boyd gave him a wide grinned as he leaned forward with his elbows resting on the table. “We will indeed. Such a shame you won’t be there – just like always.”

“You’re only riding on Day’s coattails, you know. Enjoy your success while it lasts,” the asshole all but spat. “You losers wouldn’t be anything without him.”

Curtis, who sat next to Boyd, laughed at that. “Right, which is why the Foxes made it to the championships before he showed up. You’re just bitter because between the Ravens being in the district and us making the top four, your spot’s no longer so secure. Having real competition’s a bitch, isn’t it?”

“Speaking of bitches, you’re-“

“Hey! Finish that and you’ll have a broken jaw,” Yee warned the asshole.

“What, you’ll defend your vice-captain’s honor?” another Belmonte player sneered.

“I don’t need to,” Yee told him while Curtis smiled.

“Besides, I think as captain, I get first shot,” Boyd insisted as he leaned forward a little more, which caused the material of his light grey dress shirt to stretch over his muscular biceps.

Andrew wondered if Bren had brought more of that strong Chinese alcohol because he was going to need something potent as hell to get through all of this stupidity.

There was more posturing and inane bickering for about fifteen minutes or so before the Osprey’s coach got up on stage to welcome all of the teams and give a little speech about the new season which included a ‘few’ words about fair play and sportsmanship and decency (Andrew was willing to bet that it flew over most of the players’ heads). Then dinner was served, the usual baked chicken and vegetables.

As soon as the plates were cleared so were the seats at their table, since by that point everyone was tired of glaring at each other. Andrew paused long enough to make sure that Kevin followed and then went in search of a certain little bird.

Unlike the last banquet or two, the Ravens didn’t split up; they were clustered together in a large, black-clad group with Bren and Janna hovering around the edges. The air about them was dark and unwelcoming, and they stared down anyone who dared to approach until the person shifted their trajectory and walked away.

Andrew allowed Kevin to take the lead and, after only hesitating a moment, his friend sought out and headed toward Moreau. Andrew had to wonder if Kevin had many other ‘friends’ left on the team – most of the people he knew had graduated already, save for Moreau and a handful of other Ravens.

For a moment it looked as if the Ravens wouldn’t let Kevin and Andrew pass, but then they stepped aside though their expressions didn’t alter. When they did reach Neil (and Moreau and Patel), they found Neil leaning against the wall with a bottle of water in his hands and a guarded expression on his face.

He looked good with his long legs crossed at the ankles and dressed all in black, the clothes expensive and tailored to his lean form, with his auburn hair falling onto his face instead of slicked back for once. Andrew thought that he might be growing the top part longer, though the undercut was shaved neatly as usual. All in all, it made an insolent, too attractive picture.

A picture which Andrew hated that he’d savor for some time to come.

Patel stepped forward as if to intercept them, her thick, dark brows drawn over her eyes. “ _Don’t pick any fights tonight. Not tonight_.” At first Andrew thought that was meant for him, before he realized that she was looking at Kevin, who also spoke French.

“ _I… I’m not here for that_ ,” he stuttered out after a moment. “ _I swear it_.”

Patel glanced at Andrew and, after he gave a slight nod, stepped aside.

They continued forward, and the closer that Andrew got to Neil and Moreau, the more he picked up on the tension they radiated; Neil’s insolence was a mask, a sham, while Moreau’s indifference covered wariness.

“Kevin,” the Ravens’ captain called out while he shifted closer to Neil. “I still don’t understand _why_ that particular tattoo, but well done, I suppose. I’d think it would be easier to just remove it, though.”

Kevin’s spine stiffened for a moment before he let out a slow breath. “I didn’t want to erase the past, I wanted to show that they don’t matter to me anymore.”

Moreau and Neil exchanged a lingering look of significance before Moreau shook his head. “It’s your choice,” Moreau said, but it was clear that he still didn’t understand what Kevin had done, that it wasn’t a choice _he_ would have made (he or Neil). Andrew imagined that they would erase the past if they could, would undo all the horror Riko and those associated with him had inflicted upon them rather than live with the nightmares forever.

But Patel had said ‘no fighting’, and it appeared that Neil and Moreau intended to hold up their end of that, too.

Kevin brushed his fingers over the tattoo as if thinking about something then shook his head. “Jean… _I’m sorry_ ,” he said in French. “ _Sorry for not figuring out what_ -“

“ _No, we’re not doing this_ ,” Moreau said in a harsh voice while Neil pushed away from the wall. “ _If that’s why you’re here, then go_.” His hands clenched into fists before he gestured for Kevin to leave.

“ _That’s… that’s not_ ….” Kevin sighed as he jerked his left hand through his hair. “ _I’m sorry and I wish that we could be friends again_.”

Moreau shook his head as he forced his fingers to straighten. “ _Some things aren’t that simple, Kevin. A lot has changed, too much to go back to the way it was_.”

For a moment Andrew thought that Kevin would give up and slink away, but he stood there and gave Moreau a sad smile. “ _I realize that now, but… what about moving forward? We’ll both be in the pros next year, and I know I’d like having a friend out there. Just think about it, okay_?”

While Moreau seemed to debate that, Neil spoke up. “ _Yeah, **think** about it, because he doesn’t answer to you anymore_. _He’s not obligated to you in any way_.”

When Kevin frowned at that, Andrew ‘nudged’ him aside. “Yes, we can all agree that Kevin commands no one, yes?” He stared down Neil until his friend ‘lowered his hackles’ and relaxed. “ _What has your feathers all ruffled tonight_?” he asked in German.

Neil rolled his eyes but there was a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth as if he fought not to smile – at least for a moment. “ _Wonderful dinner conversation, what can I say_.”

Ah, so it was much as Andrew had suspected. “ _Your coach still willing to bench you if you start a fight_?”

“ _Yes_.” Now Neil appeared murderous. “ _I get that it makes us look bad, reacting like that, but some assholes deserve to lose a few teeth or more_.”

“ _Someone’s a little feisty lately_ ,” Andrew remarked. “ _While it’s almost amusing, leave the fighting to the experts_.”

“ _Go to hell_ ,” Neil told him in a sweet tone of voice.

Too late, Andrew was already there.

“You know,” Neil said in English as the hint of a smile was back on his face. “It’s odd – here I am dressed all in black and I don’t feel the slightest bit lazy. Or gothy.”

Andrew’s eyes narrowed at that poor excuse of a joke. “It’s because you’re too much of an idiot. No room for anything else.”

“Hmm.” Neil’s lips twitched again while several of the younger Ravens gasped in evident horror over their vice-captain being insulted. “Maybe.” Beside him, Moreau appeared to agree with Andrew’s assessment.

“You _can’t_ say that!” one of the baby Ravens insisted while scowling at Andrew. “Captain, _do_ something!”

“Yes, Captain,” Neil murmured, his eyes bright with wicked amusement. “Do something.”

Moreau looked ready to throttle his own vice-captain. “There’s not enough holy water available for me to send you back to hell,” Frenchie sighed in evident remorse.

“True captains would improvise,” Neil said; Patel, who’d rejoined them at one point, had to stifle a giggle while the baby Ravens now appeared apoplectic.

Meanwhile, Kevin took to nodding. “He’s right, you know. You should-“

“Not another word from either of you,” Moreau warned with a terse smile. “In fact, just go away.” He made a shooing motion. “Take the flea with you and give me some peace.”

That sounded odd to Andrew, until Neil and Patel each gave their disgruntled captain a quick salute before sauntering away; Moreau stared at Andrew in a pointed manner before he realized that the French bastard had given him and Neil an opportunity to spend some time together (albeit with Kevin and Patel tagging along so it wasn’t perfect), so Andrew threw in a two-fingered salute as well.

They didn’t go far, just enough distance so they could talk without a flock of Ravens eavesdropping but that Bren could still keep an eye on Neil and that it didn’t look too odd; Andrew supposed it would be a bit too much for Neil and him (or ‘Aaron’) to disappear for an hour or two again for a consecutive banquet.

“So, still an insufferable prick?” Patel asked Kevin with a cheerful smile.

His green eyes widened at first and then narrowed. “First, what happened to the whole ‘no fighting’ thing? And second? _Fuck you_.”

“Do as I say and not as I do, and that’s a ‘yes’, obviously.” Patel smirked in the face of the great Kevin Day’s wrath and rocked back and forth on the balls of her feet. “I was winning that bet before we got interrupted and you know it.”

While the two strikers descended into a highly intelligent debate of ‘nuh-huh’ and ‘oh yeah’, Andrew and Neil used it as cover to hold a conversation of their own, to lean against a wall with only a couple of inches between them as they talked about their classes so far that semester, the joys of traveling with teammates and whatever benign topics that crossed their minds.

Andrew had just begun quizzing Neil over how well the Quattroporte GTS handled when several players from Breckenridge approached the four of them – strikers and backliners. Neil noticed them first and tensed, which made Andrew wary and spot the grinning bastards swaggering toward them, instincts screaming inside of his head that something bad was about to happen.

“What, is this a private party? I thought Josten preferred more guys on him than two,” the striker with the buzz cut (Arnolds, 27) called out while his buddies laughed.

Kevin stilled at the taunt while Patel flushed with anger and Neil’s right hand dropped to the pocket of his black dress pants, that cruel smile of his curving his lips. “So funny, such a shame I haven’t heard something like that over a dozen times so far this season,” Neil remarked as he gazed at the players in a seemingly detached manner that was actually him sizing them up.

“Ooh, the pretty princess has a mouth on him,” another player taunted (Roth, 16) while the backliner next to him (Beltran, 31) made kissing motions toward Neil. “Why don’t you come here and put it to better use?” He motioned to his crotch while jerking his hips forward.

“You’re a bunch of diseased donkey cocksuckers,” Marley yelled at them as she took a step forward, only for Kevin to throw out an arm to hold her back. “Let me-“

“Whoa, she’s a fiery one!” Arnolds laughed. “I thought you Ravens girls were supposed to be doormats or something, just lying there and taking all comers!”

“Oh, we’ll be coming, all right!”

Andrew caught the icy glint in Neil’s pale eyes, the slight hitch in that smile and knew his friend wouldn’t let the insults against poetic Patel go unanswered. So he moved before his little bird could, knives sheathed but fists out (thumbs untucked), and punched a laughing Beltran in the jaw before he spun around and landed a blow to Arnolds’ solar plexus.

“Duck, runt!”

He reacted to Bren’s warning cry and avoided a wild swing from another player (Schultz, 38), and then Bren and a couple of other coaches rushed their friendly little group to break apart the bourgeoning fight. Bren herded Andrew toward the wall, mindful not to physically touch him, while there was a lot of accusations shouted back and forth over the ‘fight’ (it didn’t deserve to be called that at all, Andrew’s knuckles weren’t even bruised).

Fortunately, it had attracted attention from the other guests as soon as the Breckenridge assholes had started with their insults, so between people pointing out that the bastards had broken the whole ‘fair play’ rule and Wymack yelling that Andrew had been standing up to a bunch of bullies (more or less), for once Andrew was let go with a warning.

Neil and Patel returned to the rest of the Ravens flock, who only remained at the converted stadium for another half an hour or so before retreating to their hotel for the night. The same hotel where the Foxes just so happened to be staying (what a coincidence), and after another hour at the then boring party, Wymack gathered the team and had one of the university buses drop them off at their accommodations for the event.

Andrew checked his phone for the text telling him where to meet Neil while the rest of the Foxes (such as the freshmen) talked about the pool and attempted to hit up Boyd for alcohol; it appeared that Neil was up in some suite, what a surprise. He made sure that Kevin was all right hanging out with Nicky and Aaron for the time being before he left.

Neil wasn’t alone and he wasn’t in a good mood. “I could have handled them myself,” the little bird snapped as soon as Andrew stepped into the suite. “You didn’t need to interfere like that.”

“Noguchi couldn’t bench me,” Andrew reminded the idiot. “Can you say the same if you’d punched those assholes?” Or worse?

That made Neil pause and chew on his bottom lip while Moreau gave a pleased nod. “Exactly. Let it go, diable.”

“But-“

“ _No_ ,” Moreau argued. “Let the ERC handle it now.” The two of them stared at each other until Neil made an angry sound and stalked away.

Andrew hesitated only a couple of seconds to follow, conscious of Bren tagging along as he entered what was a large bedroom to find Neil sprawled on top of a king-sized bed. Despite the tempting picture of Neil - dressed in an oversized Ravens hoodie and shorts – Andrew made a point to sit over in a chair _before_ Bren cleared his throat.

As if to reward him, the bodyguard tossed a flask to Andrew. “You know Valjean’s right,” Andrew told a pouting Neil.

“I hate not being able to do anything,” Neil said after a few sullen seconds of quiet while Andrew had what turned out to be some very nice whiskey. “It was bad enough-“ Neil’s breath hitched and he covered his face with his hands as if to block out the sight of something – or hide from it.

It had probably been bad enough to suffer at Riko’s hands, to live through that nightmare, and now have it thrown back in his face time and time again? “They want a reaction out of you,” was all Andrew could say while he wished that he’d had more time to beat those assholes.

“Yeah, I know.” The words were muffled by Neil’s hands, but after another couple of seconds he sighed and let them fall away as he sat up. When Andrew offered him the flask, he shook his head. “I just want people to move on from this.”

That was wishful thinking, considering that Neil seemed determined to ignore the hell out of it and couldn’t get over it.

Andrew didn’t say anything else, though, he just did his best not to stare at Neil, well aware of how much he detested it when people did the same to him. Instead, he continued to sip from the flask and glared at Bren, who kept glancing back and forth between him and Neil as if _he_ had something to say.

Why the hell was the man acting like some romance novel chaperone?

“Anyway, it was nice to see you move a little for once. Maybe you could do it out on court one day,” Neil remarked as he raised up on his elbows, a hint of humor in his pale blue eyes.

Andrew gazed at him for a couple of seconds and then at Bren. “Is there a balcony? I need to see if a little bird can fly.”

“Come on now, I don’t wanna have to work too hard tonight,” Bren complained as he sat down in the bed near Neil (the bastard). “You know how hard it is to hide a body? Even if you’re on the small side?”

“Aren’t there supposed to be swamps around here?” Neil offered with a slight smile.

“Hmm.” Bren perked up at that. “Yeah, that does help, Red.”

Andrew gave them both the middle finger, which made Neil laugh (at last) and Bren grin. They spent the next hour talking about various ways to deal with the assholes who kept harassing Neil and his teammates, a rather dark topic all in all, which drew a displeased look from Moreau when he joined them later and a wide smile from Patel (who also joined Neil on the bed, Moreau making himself comfortable right behind Neil in such a manner that useless envy burned in Andrew).

Bee probably would have something to say about how Andrew spent his night, but he didn’t have to censure himself for once and it appeared to put Neil at ease, to make him happy so where was the harm? None of them (with the possible exception of Patel) could be considered ‘normal’, not with everything that had happened to them, so why bother trying to fit in?

Mindful of the time and Kevin being without proper supervision, Andrew got up to leave and was a little suspicious when Bren walked out of the suite with him under the pretext of running a quick errand – an errand that seemed to be escorting him to the elevator. “Look, you know I don’t have anything personal against you, right?” the bodyguard asked while Andrew waited for the elevator to arrive.

For the most part, yes. “Neil’s your priority,” Andrew said.

“Yeah, my job is to make sure that he’s kept safe,” Bren stated, and it was how he phrased things – ‘keep Neil _safe’_ and not ‘watch over Neil for Ichirou’ that prevented Andrew from punching him in the throat. “And that means making sure he doesn’t get into trouble.”

“Am I trouble?” Andrew asked when Bren gave him a pointed look after that declaration.

The burly man sighed and had the grace to appear embarrassed. “Some people seem to think so, which is why I have to make sure you don’t get too close to the kid, okay?” When Andrew went still at that statement, Bren shook his head. “What I mean is… no touching, all right? I know you’re good for Neil, it’s the same with Jean and Mo, but why do you think we were all around tonight? _Someone_ doesn’t want the two of you alone together, and so far I’ve been able to truthfully say that nothing’s going on in _that_ regard between you.”

That ‘someone’ wouldn’t happen to be Ichirou Moriyama, would it? Andrew didn’t waste the breath to ask. Though he huffed a little as he ignored the elevator opening up on their floor. “Nothing’s going to happen, not with Neil being an oblivious idiot.” They were just _friends_.

“Maybe, maybe not,” Bren said with a nonchalant shrug. “But he doesn’t let very many people in like he does you.”

One of the worst things associated with Neil was how there was this traitorous spark of feeling in Andrew’s chest from time to time, something so tenuous and fluttering, something he thought he’d stomped out long ago – _hope_. Inwardly he sneered at Bren’s words in an attempt to drown out that damn fluttering as he pressed the elevator button yet again. “Nothing’s going to happen if he falls off the damn roof, you know.”

The bodyguard groaned as he rubbed at his forehead. “I thought about nailing the fucking windows shut or something, but Janna and Declan won’t let me, something about fire hazards.”

“I thought you were supposed to watch over him.”

“He’s a slippery little fuck! I turn around and the next thing I know, he’s out there, sitting five stories above the ground!” Bren was practically wailing, which was Andrew’s cue to leave.

Kevin, Boyd, Curtis and Yee joined Andrew in meeting Neil, Moreau, Patel and Wilds for breakfast the next morning, the group big enough that it didn’t attract any attention for the wrong reasons. There were still some loaded looks directed toward the Ravens, some muttered whispering, but the fact that Breckenridge had left during the night indicated that the ERC was finally taking some steps to address the issue, along with the fact that the players involved in the little ‘kerfuffle’ (except Andrew) were suspended for three games.

Andrew would never care for the stupid banquets, especially when he had to fly to attend them, but at least he got to spend a little bit of time with Neil, to see him relax a bit before they had to return to their respective campuses.

To know that he’d spent time away from Ichirou for one weekend.

It was back to PSU, where the freshmen were energized from spending so much time with more experienced players, while Andrew was looking to continue something that had been interrupted by others. Friday’s game was a home one with Breckenridge, and part of the team was determined to break the Foxes’ losing streak to the Jackals (Kevin, Boyd, Curtis, Yee, Matheson, etc.).

Andrew didn’t give a shit about pride or ranking or championship seasons… no, he clearly recalled arrogant swagger and foul words meant to hurt, to destroy confidence and crush pride.

Perhaps he _was_ a bit lazy, though he preferred to view at it as ‘unmotivated’. However, Breckenridge certainly had him motivated come Friday for their game. All he had to do was think about Neil spending time out on the damn roof come the weekend after putting up with Ichirou once the Ravens played (and defeated) the JD Lions, his little bird subjected to more taunts and lingering checks and rude questions from the press.

Andrew was out on court for the first half of the game against Breckenridge, where he shut down the goal. Not only didn’t he allow a single shot through, but he either caught the ball or deflected it back at the Jackals with full force, intent on making them suffer, on making them look bad. The team was down two senior strikers because of the ERC’s suspension (and a couple of backliners), so they were already feeling the loss of some ‘star’ power, and Andrew’s actions only made it worse.

Andrew’s and the rest of the Foxes’, especially Kevin. The Jackals were used to being able to steamroll most of the southeast district, the Foxes included, but not that year. Not with one of the best strikers in the division (if not _the_ best) determined to seize a point advantage early, backed up with Boyd on defense.

The Foxes came together on that game, the most cohesive they’d been in over a year, and Breckenridge faltered under the onslaught. Hayes wasn’t as good as Renee, not quite, but he held the goal mostly closed long enough to manage the point spread that Andrew and Kevin had won in the first half of the game through the second half.

“Who got fucked over this time?” Andrew asked the Jackal’s captain, Combs, when the glowering bastard was out on the court to give everyone a handshake at the end of the game. “I hope you liked it as much as the rumors say.”

“What?” Combs stared after Andrew in confusion, but by that time Andrew had already moved on. It looked as if Nicky took some delight in explaining things though, judging from his cousin’s shit-eating grin and how flustered the Jackal’s face grew.

Kevin gave him a cool look as they headed into the locker room. “Don’t get _us_ in trouble with the ERC, dammit! We just beat the second-best team in the division, if we keep up this momentum then _we’ll_ be ranked second come the end of the regular season – we’ve got a strong chance now with the Jackals being penalized! Second place is where we want to be.”

They would be in second place in part because of the Jackals acting like pricks to Neil and the rest of the Ravens, which Andrew almost threw into Kevin’s face. Yet part of him knew that it would hurt the other team for them to fall even further down from their former top spot, and to lose it to the previously worst team in the district at that.

It didn’t mean that there weren’t times when he would glad punch Kevin for being such a fucking Exy addict.

They ended up staying on campus that night as the Foxes (along with the Vixens, how nauseating) celebrated the team’s victory over the Jackals; Andrew snagged a bottle of whiskey and headed up to the roof where he was reduced to exchanging texts with Moreau and Patel while they waited for Neil to return from the East Tower, to see how badly broken he’d be that night.

Patel was, as the saying went, all piss and vinegar, was caustic remarks which Andrew had to puzzle over to decipher half the time, taunts about the Foxes, Kevin and him which he recognized as her using bravado and insults to mask her growing concern for Neil. Moreau was curt and defensive, clearly on edge and unable to relax until his partner returned.

Andrew didn’t understand how one person could crawl under someone’s skin like that, could become so… so _important_. Neil wasn’t tied to them by blood (like Aaron), wasn’t someone who’d sought them out to make a deal or for any specific reason. He’d just… he’d just crashed into their lives (almost literally in Andrew’s case) and turned everything upside down, had sacrificed himself for Moreau and Patel and refused Andrew’s attempts to save his suicidal neck.

He was a walking disaster and a fool of a martyr, was violence and oddly enough something so _pure_ all jumbled together.

And he was Ichirou Moriyama’s.

The whiskey was a buzz in Andrew’s blood and all the cigarette smoke a rough rasp in his throat when his phone pinged to let him know that his little bird had finally returned to the nest for the night (not literally for once). It was after two in the morning and Patel sent a frowning emoji, which made Andrew want to smack her on the principle of it alone.

About ten minutes later, Neil called him. Andrew almost dropped the bottle of whiskey in his haste to answer his phone, a spike of concern overriding his fear of heights as he fumbled about on the ledge for the device. “Beat Patel,” he said once he accepted the call.

It was quiet for a second or two and then Neil let out a slow breath. “Why?” He sounded exhausted, his voice raspy and barely more than a whisper.

“Because I asked.” What had happened that night?

“That… that doesn’t sound like a request.”

“Kindly beat Patel for me,” Andrew stated in a flat tone, while the pain in the ass squawked in the background.

“I’ll consider it.” A hint of life colored Neil’s voice, made it more than a murmur, while Moreau could be heard urging him to drink something. “I… ah, you won. Congrats.”

For once Andrew didn’t say his usual ‘so what’ or ‘I don’t care’. “Yes, we should be in second place now. If we keep this up, you’ll be dealing with us all year.” He’d be able to see Neil regularly all year.

“Good.” There was a pause while Neil slurped something. “That… good.” His voice cracked a little on the last word.

“Neil… do you need to tell me something?” Andrew asked as a dread feeling filled him.

There was more slurping and then Neil let out a slow breath. “ _He’s cleaning house_ ,” Neil admitted in German. “ _It’s not about me, it’s just… it’s stressful_.”

Andrew considered that for a moment, what Neil probably felt was safe to say aloud and wanted to make sure his little bird was safe. “ _What’s stressful? What’s happening or what’s going on between you and him_?” When Neil didn’t answer, Andrew almost threw the bottle of whiskey into the air before he stopped himself in time. “ _Dammit, Neil_.”

“ _It’ll get better_.” There was a too-sharp bark of a laugh. “ _Sooner or later he’ll run out of… well, it’ll get better soon_.”

“ _Are you going to Wilds’ tomorrow_?” Andrew could put up with Boyd doing his Neil-fanboying if he knew that his friend would be away from Ichirou.

“ _No, I only came back tonight so I could take part in the practice tomorrow and some interview for homecoming_ ,” Neil explained. “ _Then I’ll be off to his house nearby. I’ll call you on Monday, okay_?” When Andrew didn’t say anything, Neil sighed again. “ _Bren will be there_.”

Bren might have to make a decision soon on just how deep that ‘protect Neil’ thing went.

Bren might not be the only one.

“ _Andrew? It’ll... it’s fine, you’ll see_ ,” Neil said in an attempt to make things better, his tone one of false levity. “ _I won’t be on the roof there_.”

No, because he’d be in a bastard’s bed or surrounded by a bunch of killers – Andrew would prefer him to be alone and up on a roof somewhere with Bren (with _him_ ) standing guard.

But if there was one thing he and Neil were used to by then, it was never getting what they wanted, wasn’t it?

“Don’t do anything stupid,” he told Neil, then clarified that statement. “Nothing _else_ stupid, like pick any fights or make any new deals. Stay close to Bren and Moreau,” that prompted another complaint from Patel. “We’ll see each other in a few weeks and again in December, where we’ll piss everyone off by claiming the top two spots in the district.”

Neil gave a faint snort. “You actually going to move about out on court for once?”

“Someone has to beat you _and_ Patel.”

That earned him a quiet laugh while Patel shouted that she’d like to see him try. “All right, I’ll be careful to stick around and see that happen.”

“I’ll hold you to it,” Andrew gazed up at the stars as he wondered how it was that Neil managed to pull such an effort from him without even seeming to try on his part, without demanding a thing. Yet Andrew didn’t feel any bitterness or anger toward the young man, just frustration that Neil had allowed himself to be put into such a situation where he needed to be saved in the first place.

Andrew was going to save the idiot.

“Now go to bed, I understand that little birds have to be up bright and early in the morning,” he told Neil.

“Yeah, yeah, certain lazy foxes probably just want to get a start on their sleeping all weekend,” Neil shot back.

“Spare me your annoying chirps.”

“Whatever.” Neil was quiet for a moment while Patel complained about Andrew in the background. “Thank you,” he said, the words softly spoken but heartfelt. “Monday, okay?” Then he hung up.

An idiot little bird who appreciated what Andrew did for him, of all things. Andrew smoked another cigarette as he went through the rest of the Foxes’ fall season in his head and how much effort he’d be putting in to ensure that he saw Neil as much possible.

*******

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *******  
> Uhm... okay, so, still one or two chapters left for the third year (we'll see how much I can cram into the next one). Still hoping to have a new one up in two weeks - will work on the BB fic and some prompts for the rest of this week.
> 
> Hopefully one or two things here don't seem too repetitive - I promise, it's leading to something.
> 
> I think that's it? So brain dead right now. OMFG I'm gonna sleep SO GOOD tonight. But I had fun. Lots of yummy food (and wine) and hanging w/ my BFF.
> 
> As always, the comments and kudos are greatly appreciated (even if I'm a little behind right now?).
> 
> No clue why the chapter count is all messed up... And prompts will be at my tumblr - [nekojitachan](http://nekojitachan.tumblr.com) until I get the time to move them to the one prompt fic here.


	22. Carry You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah... let's see if I remember things from last chapter. So, the other teams are giving the Ravens grief when they play them, hoping to rattle them by taunting them about the scandal from the summer. Neil and the team is left to day with that, but at least he, Jean and Marley are growing closer to Dan (and Matt who comes to visit some weekends).  
> The ERC tries to rein in the other teams and there's suspensions handed down on them for their behavior, but it adds to Neil's stress, as does something going on with Ichirou (he won't tell Andrew everything). There's a fight at the Fall banquet when the Jackals take to taunting the Ravens, where Andrew steps in to keep Neil from reacting since the Ravens' coach doesn't want his team getting into trouble.  
> Andrew is getting more and more invested in Neil, enough to try harder at Exy just so the Foxes will make it to the championship season/final rounds and he'll be able to see Neil more that year.  
> Oh, yeah, and Kevin seemed to 'wake up' after Thea showed up to 'dump' him and altered his tattoo into the queen symbol.  
> *******
> 
> OK, so, another long chapter. I got it done! Hopefully it's coherent (lot of cold meds here) and makes sense. It also covers a lot of time - this wraps up year three (mostly, it gets us to the end of the school year, at least). Sets up some important things, yes yes.
> 
> Ah... still some fallout from the summer scandal, people being assholes about things (slurs and so forth). Some violence not really described. The usual trigger warnings, don't think there's anything new?
> 
> And thanks to Fall-for-the-Game for the beta!  
> *******

*******

Neil clenched his hands around his racquet while he watched his team play against the Jackals, as he watched Marley just manage to avoid a check that would have knocked her down, considering that Roth had to outweigh her by almost a hundred pounds. It was a month after the Fall banquet and Breckenridge was finally back to a full roster of players (at least temporarily), and they seemed determined to both take their anger over the suspensions out on the Ravens and to rack up whatever points they could as quickly as possible.

Such a shame that the latter wasn’t going to happen that evening and that the Ravens were tired of being everyone’s punching bag.

Though it didn’t mean that the Ravens weren’t being slammed around on their own court – just that they refused to fall down and give up any ground, to allow the Jackals to score more than two points so far despite all the taunts and red cards and bruises.

“Deep breaths,” Dan reminded Neil as she stood beside him to watch the game. “Happy thoughts.”

“Me caving their heads in with my racquet is rather nice,” he mused aloud.

Avery hummed in agreement. “Brutal but simple. I’m going with tying them spread-eagle to the court and using their crotches for drill practice.” That made Ethan and Jon wince while Theresa nodded in approval.

Dan rubbed a hand over her face and sighed. “You guys don’t lack for imagination, I give you that, but keep the incriminating statements to yourself, all right? Just in case something _does_ happen to those bastards, I want to be able to claim I’ve no idea who’d have done it.”

“Got it,” Avery said while Neil nodded, certain that his uncle would take care of things for him, at the least.

“Anyway,” Dan continued, “put the thoughts of homicide and maiming on hold for now, because you two should be back out there soon.” She gave him and Avery a stern look. “Remember, play clean and cool. Don’t be assholes like them.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Neil and Avery said in unison; as much as it galled Neil to keep from fighting with the Jackals (and the other teams), Noguchi and Dan were right about how the Ravens had to focus on playing and winning. It didn’t mean that they couldn’t use what Tetsuji had taught them, all those ‘fun’ little tricks… just that they couldn’t lose their focus while out on the court, couldn’t risk any red cards or let slip all the rage they’d pushed down because of how they’d been treated by the other players and their own.

Less than five minutes later the game paused when yet another Jackal was red-carded and Noguchi subbed Marley and Toby out for Neil and Avery; Neil bumped fists with his friend as they crossed paths and flashed a smile at Jean before the game restarted. Naomi was quick to get the ball to him, and when Beltran tried to trip him, Neil taunted the backliner about being a clumsy troll before he fired the ball off to Avery.

“I bet I can have you screaming beneath me like the bitch you are,” Beltran muttered as he trailed after Neil.

“You’re mistaking me for all those pigs you fuck,” Neil told him with a sharp smile. “Even they’re disgusted by you.”

Beltran seemed to have it in for him after that (one wondered why), and a quick squeal here and there seemed to enrage him even more. It didn’t take long before the dumb shit tried to pin Neil to the wall, which ended with Neil’s racquet in his upper left thigh and yet another red card.

Neil hoped that Columbia State appreciated the easy game that the Ravens were all but handing them next week, when the university was scheduled to play what would be a greatly reduced Breckenridge team.

The last quarter went by quickly; the Jackals’ coaches must have realized that if they had any hope of retaining enough players for a valid game next week or avoiding another damaging penalty from the ERC over their behavior that evening (which was appearing unlikely, considering the thunderous boos pouring down from the crowd whenever a new Jackal stepped out on court), they had to rein in their team’s behavior at last. There were a lot of muttered insults and glares, but not as many dirty plays.

The Ravens won, 18-3.

It was decided to skip the post-game line-up, and Noguchi took one look at Neil and swapped out Ben to sit in with Jean during the press conference. Neil thought both of those were very wise decisions and went to the locker room to shower and change.

Jean caught hold of his arm before he took more than two steps away and gave it a gentle squeeze. “ _Be… take care_ ,” his partner told him, grey eyes shaded with concern. “ _We’ll be waiting for you_.”

“ _See you soon_ ,” Neil assured his friend, then hurried to make himself presentable for Ichirou.

Bren was quiet on the way up to the East Tower, but that was all right because Neil didn’t feel like talking much, either. He wondered if there would be more bloodshed or violence that night, if Hara had any more people left for Ichirou to use as ‘examples’. Neil didn’t know what had made the man defy his lord and didn’t care, he was tired of watching people die.

A feeling of dread filled him when he entered the main room of the East Tower and saw his uncle standing guard next to Ichirou, along with Masato, about half a dozen of his lord’s ‘lieutenants’ and various enforcers, Hara and two young men.

“Nathaniel.” Ichirou greeted him with a smile. “Another exciting game tonight.”

“Thank you, my lord.” Neil gave Ichirou a respectful bow and came to a stop at his right side, not too close so Ichirou had a free range of movement and accepted the glass of whisky handed to him.

“You’ve won me quite the bet, since Marcello didn’t think you’d do so well against the Jackals.” Ichirou nodded toward Cabrera, who stood over by the one woodblock print of the lovers on the bridge. As usual, the man gave Neil a cold, assessing look. “I told him you thrive on challenges.”

“It’s a bit of a family trait, my lord,” Neil said as he glanced at his uncle in hopes of gleaning some useful information on what the hell was going on, but Stuart’s expression remained impassive.

Ichirou, though, smiled, the expression cool and sharp like the weapons hidden all around the room. “Yes, you are a wonderful representation of your families, Nathaniel.” That smile and the almost purring note of satisfaction in the Moriyama lord’s voice made Neil take a hurried gulp of the expensive whisky, certain that something nasty was about to happen. “Such an important thing, families.”

“ _Lord Moriyama_ ,” Hara began in Japanese, “ _if I could just ex_ -“

A simple flick of fingers from Ichirou had Masato cut off the disgraced lieutenant’s attempt to beg for forgiveness; one of the young men near him (a son or underling?) made to help the middle-aged man but was yanked back into place by an enforcer. “Families and their heritage.” Ichirou turned to Neil and grasped him by the chin, the sharp smile still on his lips yet his eyes emotionless. “You’ve quite the heritage, Nathaniel, one to rival that of anyone in this room. Tell me, what should I do with a man sworn to me who betrayed his word, hmm? What did your father and mother teach you?”

Out of the corner of his eye, Neil could see his uncle start and then go still, could hear the creak of leather behind him and knew it was Bren. Yet he didn’t try to pull away, didn’t react to Ichirou’s harsh hold as he thought about that question.

His father had a rather bloody solution for traitors, while his mother had been interested in one thing and one thing only – with both of those ‘lessons’ in mind, Neil licked his lips and gave Ichirou an answer. “A traitor is a risk to you, my lord, and risks are not to be tolerated. That’s what my parents taught me.”

Ichirou’s hold gentled and his expression warmed upon hearing that answer. “How wise,” he remarked as he stroked his thumb over Neil’s ‘4’ tattoo. “Stuart, see to it that they’re no longer a risk,” he called out as he held Neil’s gaze.

“Moriyama-sam-“ Hara choked in pain as Masato cuffed him on the head, and others began to drag the young men out of the room at Stuart’s abrupt wave. Neil didn’t move until they were gone, didn’t allow any emotion to show on his face as three people went off to their deaths (relief that he didn’t have to watch for once, a small bit of guilt which he stamped down on, a gnawing emptiness over the fact that he never seemed to escape from his father’s life), didn’t flinch from Ichirou’s touch.

He remained in place when his lord finally let go and motioned to the half-empty glass in his hand. “You should be proud of your win tonight.”

“Yes, my lord,” Neil managed to say without stuttering while he raised the glass to his dry lips and finished the potent alcohol. Ichirou gave him a pleased smile and talked to one of his men (Sato) about gambling profits while Bren refilled Neil’s glass once it was empty, a hovering, glowering shadow at Neil’s back.

Stuart returned when Neil felt the whisky kick in, a grim, grey-suited presence which the scent of clove cigarettes couldn’t quite mask the acrid sting of discharged bullets and the stench of fear (they needed better ventilation wherever they ‘handled’ things).  He went over to whisper something in Ichirou’s ear and then eyed Neil before helping himself to a large tumbler of whisky at the bar as well as fetching another glass for Neil.

He leaned in close as he swapped out the empty glass in Neil’s hand for the full one. “ _Don’t blame yourself_ ,” he whispered in French. “ _They were already marked for death_.”

Neil nodded once and made quick work of the drink.

People began to drift away at that point; they’d seen their lord exert his authority once again, to prove that he was unwilling to suffer any rebellion under his ‘rule’, and now faded into the jubilant crowd leaving Evermore or tailgating in the parking lot. Neil watched them go with a sour pit of envy building in his stomach at the thought of how they could do whatever they wanted, could move about freely while he stood there (more or less) and waited to serve his lord’s pleasure.

Literally and figuratively.

Some more whisky would be good even if it would most likely make him sick, but Stuart had taken away his glass a few minutes ago, probably because of him swaying back and forth. So Neil went to sit on the arm of one of the couches and waited for everyone to leave, for once having barely ‘worked’ at all (at least when it came to translating).

Stuart’s sudden appearance at his side made him flinch, which he tried to hide with a smile. “Hey,” he said to his uncle, who stood there with a sad, small frown on his face. “You leaving?”

“Got a little more work to do. You… be good, kiddo,” Stuart told him before reaching out to tousle his hair. “See you soon.”

He’d just killed at least one person, yet Neil smiled up at him and wished him a good night; they were Hatfords, after all, and they belonged to Ichirou. They were what they were, what they had to be, because of promises and debts and blood.

Because of Mary and Nathan, in several weird, twisted ways.

Stuart called out Bren’s name as he walked away, and Neil’s friend (shadow, bodyguard, watcher) hesitated a moment before following, which left Neil alone Ichirou. Knowing what would come next, he savored the heady feel of alcohol in his veins, the slight disconnect from everything it gave him and smiled at his lover.

“Nathaniel,” Ichirou murmured as he crossed the room, his eyes bright with desire and motions intent. “ _You’re so quiet tonight_.”

“ _Oh_?” Neil allowed himself to be pulled onto his feet. “ _You seemed to be busy so I didn’t want to disturb you, my lord_.” He gazed through his lashes as he draped his arms over Ichirou’s shoulders. “ _That looked rather important_.”

Ichirou let out a faint scoff as he wrapped his arm around Neil’s waist, his left hand heavy on Neil’s ass. “ _’Rather important’, you say. I suppose it wouldn’t have been good if you’d started complaining about something in the middle of that, so nice to see you do know how to be quiet for once_.” He pulled Neil flush against him, his arousal evident; ‘cleaning house’ always made Ichirou more ‘eager’ than usual, more passionate and intent.

Neil continued to smile, to play along. “ _I’m always quiet when it matters_. _Quiet and good_.”

Ichirou’s smile took on a hungry edge. “ _That you are, Nathaniel_.” He tilted up Neil’s chin for a kiss just bordering on harsh, one that left Neil’s lower lip numb, before breaking it off with a low groan. “ _So very good_ ,” he said as he threaded his fingers through Neil’s hair and pushed down, his expression pleased as Neil went onto his knees with practiced ease.

It was all right because Neil chose to do it, because he’d said ‘yes’ to this. Ichirou’s hands in his hair weren’t so tight that he couldn’t pull away, he wasn’t being held down. It was rougher than normal, yes, but that was because of Hara and – well, because. Neil _could_ say something but the whisky helped to soothe the rough thrusts, the fingers holding him a bit too hard, a bit too tightly.

Ichirou was dealing with things his way, that was all. Neil was there for his lord to deal with things.

Neil was one of his things.

Neil gasped aloud at that thought, his body tense with shock and denial, while Ichirou continued to thrust inside of him. For a moment there was an overwhelming impulse to push the man away, to lash out and hit him and-

“ _Nathaniel_?” Ichirou slowed his hips and nuzzled Neil’s jaw; he had Neil all but bent in half that time with his arms stretched out above his head. “ _Are you okay_?”

About to say ‘no’, to start yelling, Neil felt the thick chain along his neck slide against his sweat-slick skin and drew in a shuddering breath as he thought about Jean and Marley. “Yuh-yeah,” he said as he arched his neck, and had to close his eyes when Ichirou hummed in pleasure while resuming the fast, hard thrusts.

Neil forced his mind blank after that.

When it was finally over, Ichirou appeared reluctant to allow him to leave for some reason. “ _You’ve away games the next two weeks_.”

“ _Yes_.” Neil struggled to remain still as the young lord toyed with his hair (why did everyone want to play with it?), desperate to leave the East Tower, to scrub himself clean and… and… he needed to get away from Ichirou and think or _not_ think or _something_. “ _Belmonte and PSU_.”

“PSU.” Ichirou frowned at the mention of the latter university. “ _You’ll leave there and spend the rest of the weekend in New York with me, you and Moreau_ ,” he said.

About to complain about the lack of training if they were gone all weekend, Neil took one look at the dark gleam in his lord’s eyes and bowed his head in an obedient manner. “ _Yes, my lord_.”

“ _’Quiet and good’ indeed, Nathaniel_.” He received one more bruising, intense kiss and was finally let go. “ _I’ll see you soon_.”

“ _Yes, my lord_.” Neil bowed his head once more then hurried from the room before he was detained any longer.

Bren was waiting outside, along with a couple of Ichirou’s bodyguards, and after giving him a quick once-over, stalked away as if someone was chasing him. Neil trailed after the man as they left the East Tower, his feet dragged along the floor as he struggled to make his body respond, to work properly. It was as if there was some kind of disconnect between his brain and his muscles, some kind of block... too much imposed interference after the last couple of hours and now his body didn't want to listen anymore.

Neil envied it, envied that bit of rebellion.

He drew in a long, slow breath once they were outside of Evermore, inhaled (mostly) fresh air free of the taint violence and desperation. It was cool and crisp, that time of night, fall well on its way with a promise of rain sometime soon, and Neil could still remember when he looked at the change of seasons with trepidation at having to deal with layering on worn clothes and trudging through icy rain and snow while on the run and sleeping in drafty rooms (if even that)....

He'd much rather the cold and the hunger and the exhaustion than nice clothes and regular meals any day. But what about Jean? Jean and Marley and Bren and Stuart and everyone else?

"Come on, Red, the car's over here."

Neil hadn't realized that he'd zoned out until Bren's deep, soft voice startled him from his thoughts. "Okay."

He struggled not to wince as he climbed up into the SUV and noticed how Bren's large hands clenched around the steering wheel. Nothing was said at first, until they left Evermore's parking lot. "You wanna drink?" Bren motioned to the front of his jacket, where he kept his flask.

Neil shook his head; he didn't want one, not anymore.

"Okay." Bren frowned as if he was thinking of something. "Your uncle was right, you know. It wasn't your fault. That... it was gonna happen as soon as that dumb fuck went against the little lord."

"I know," Neil said, his voice hoarse for some... no, he knew why. Just as his body ached and his skin felt raw in places, his hips bruised and- "I don't want to talk about it." He didn't want to talk and he didn't want to think. Thinking wasn’t good right then.

"Are you-"

"I'm fine," Neil said as he wrapped his arms around himself. "Really."

"Yeah, totally believable, kid." Bren sounded frustrated for some reason.

They reached the large, mansion-like building which housed the Ravens during the weekends, its dark paint appearing almost black in the twilight hour. Neil glanced at the window on the upper floor which glowed from the light within, one of the few showing any signs of life stirring inside, and knew that Jean and Marley had waited up for him again. "They should be in bed."

"Not gonna happen until you're back, so come on, let's get going.” Bren made a shooing motion at him as if he was a stray cat or something; when he went to undo Neil’s seatbelt, Neil summoned the energy to glare and finally got out of the SUV.

It wasn’t any better climbing down than it had been getting into the damn thing.

And _of course_ he had to take several flights of steps to reach his room – there was one elevator in the place, tucked in the back and only meant to be used if someone had an injury or couldn’t manage the stairs on a daily basis. Neil wasn’t about to use it and explain _why_ that night.

He _hated_ having to stay in the house.

Especially when there weren’t private baths with the rooms, so after stopping by the room he shared with Jean and Marley and assuring his roommates that he was still alive and… well, he was alive, he grabbed a change of clothes and went to the communal showers down the hall where Bren and Jean stood guard while he let the fancy dress pants and shirt fall to the tiled floor and stood beneath the hot water and scrubbed his skin red. He wanted to think that one couldn’t tell the bruises that Ichirou had left on him from those which were a result of playing Exy… but he wasn’t that good at lying to himself.

“Neil.”

He sighed and shut off the water, unhappy at having to deal with people again but aware that his friends would remain standing a few feet away as long as he was in the shower. As soon as he turned around, Jean had a towel held out to him, his expression concerned but lips pressed together, so Neil gave him a faint smile and let his partner dry his hair once he was dressed in sweatpants and a hooded jersey. Because it was Jean, it was all right, someone touching him.

Marley had the usual cup of tea ready for him, which Neil accepted with the same faint smile as before as he headed right to the large window of the room which overlooked the back part of the campus; only to pause when he noticed that it had begun to rain while he’d been in the bathroom. Then he nearly spilled the tea all over him when someone tugged on the hood of his shirt. “Hey!”

“Non!”

“What the fuck, Bren?”

“No fucking way, Red!”

Neil turned to look over his shoulder at Bren, who scowled as he let go of the hood. “What?”

“No fucking way you’re going out there in the rain, I’ll break your ankle first,” Bren warned, his broad face set in an unusually stern expression.

“What the _fuck_ , Bren!” Marley repeated as she rushed over to Neil’s side as if to protect him.

“Better his ankle than his neck! Those are slate shingles, he’s not going out there!” Bren appeared a bit defensive but started inching his way toward the window as if to block it with his body.

“No breaking things, but he’s right,” Jean said. “You stay inside tonight.”

Neil shook his head before he sipped the tea, his thoughts spiraling back to the East Tower and everything that had happened. “No. I just….” He had a little more tea as the words became caught in his throat, everything too jagged and jumbled for him to attempt to articulate. “I… _no_.”

Jean, dressed in the sweatpants and sweatshirt which he usually wore to bed, jerked his hand through his hair while he shared a look with an equally dressed down Marley. “Neil, it’s late. Do you want to talk to Minyard a little before you go to sleep? Not too long but-“

“ _No_.” Neil set the half-finished tea aside on the nearest flat surface and stumbled over to where his trainers were so he could stomp his feet into them. “I’ll… I’ll go running, okay? No falling that way.” He needed to get out, to do _somethin_ g. “I’ll-“ He flailed when something black and red was thrown at him – the overlarge sweatshirt he’d appropriated from Jean years ago.

“Put that on,” his friend told him, expression grim as he went over to their desk to pick up the keys to his Maserati. “Bren, we’ll be back… we’ll be back,” Jean sighed.

“Wait, you’re going out?” Marley appeared confused at first and then went to grab her shoes, too. “I’ll come with-“

“ _No_ ,” Jean told her as he glanced at Neil then shook his head. “Get some sleep, ma puce. This is… it’s just the two of us, tonight.”

For a moment it looked as if Marley was going to argue, and then she tried for a smile that was only partly successful. “Right, it’s a guy’s thing.” She grabbed her phone before she settled on her bed. “I get it. Don’t be out too late and don’t run over too many mailboxes.”

Neil pulled on the sweatshirt as they left; Bren told Marley to stay in the room and be good, then it was back down the damn stairs. Neil didn’t mind so much, though, because he was going outside, was going away.

Jean argued with Bren about him following them, but Bren had his orders and said no tail, no drive so that was that. All Neil cared about was being in a car and _going_ ; it wasn’t the same as the old beaters he and his mom had stolen, not with the roar of a V8, the heated leather seats and luxury interior, but it was motion and blurring scenery and someone he trusted with his life behind the wheel.

Jean waited until they were a few miles away from campus to speak. “ _Are you going to tell me what’s going on_?”

Neil stirred a little from where he’d been resting against the car door and shifted to better face his friend. “ _You know what’s happening with me and Ichirou_.”

“ _Don’t do this_ ,” his friend told him, his defined jaw tightening for a moment and eyes hooded with anger. “ _Not to **me**. Tell me the truth, Neil_.”

It was quiet for another mile or two as they argued without words. “ _I don’t want you to know_ ,” Neil admitted with great reluctance. “ _It’s probably best that you don’t_.”

That made Jean laugh, low and without humor. “ _What can Ichirou be doing that needs to be hidden from me? I’ve dealt with Moriyamas for years_.”

Fair enough. Neil sighed as he closed his eyes and thought about the last couple of months. “ _Something… I don’t know, maybe it was the scandal, maybe it’s Tetsuji appearing to hide out in Japan but a couple of Ichirou’s men apparently thought that it was a good time to test his resolve. They pushed, he shoved a knife in their throats_.” More or less.

Jean seemed to consider that as the engine revved. “ _In front of you_?”

Neil thought of Hara and Jankowitz and Morihito and - “ _Some of it, yes_.” When the engine revved again, he opened his eyes to find Jean looking at him. “ _What_?”

“ _Is that all_?” Jean asked, his voice so quiet it could barely be heard over the rumble of the engine. “ _Not to… well, you’ve been… there seems to be a lot going on, is all_.”

Meaning that the son of the Butcher should be used to such things, probably. Jean knew the story, knew about Neil’s – Nathaniel’s ‘audition’ all those years ago and what happened from time to time up in the East Tower, so yes, it would take more than some retribution killings to throw Neil ‘off’. “ _Ichirou’s more… demanding when he’s in alpha male mode, what can I say_.” He tried to make a joke out of it. After all, it was just his life.

“ _Dammit, that’s not funny_ ,” Jean snapped, then broke the ‘two hands’ rule to rub at his eyes for a moment. “ _Is he hurting you? Has he_ -“

“ _It’s not like that_ ,” Neil said in a rush; this was why he hadn’t wanted to tell Jean, to worry his friend. “ _It’s_ …” He kicked off his damp shoes and pulled his knees up to his chest. “ _It’s more intense, yeah, and I don’t like it as much_ ,” not that he’d ever liked _it_ in the first place, “ _but he’s not hurting me_.” Not like Federov or the others. _“It’s… it’s just that tonight while I was… you know… that place you go to_ ….” He glanced at Jean and saw a look of awful comprehension on his friend’s face which made him close his eyes for a moment. “ _I thought about how I was one of his things_.”

“ _Mother in heaven_ ,” Jean muttered as the engine roared and the car jerked about in the thankfully empty lanes on the highway for a couple of seconds. “ _Neil… Neil, listen to me,”_ he said, his voice grave and expression pleading as he looked away from the road ahead. _“You are not and **never** will be one of his **things**. Do you understand? I don’t care what you promised him or what we owe that cursed family, you are **not** a thing_.”

“ _But_ -“

“ _No_ ,” Jean argued, his grey eyes alight with a rare inner fire. “ _I will drive this pretentious piece of Italian trash off a bridge with both of us in it before I will let that happen, do you understand_?”

Despite all the aches and creeping numbness in his head, Neil felt the urge to smile all of a sudden. His life might be a fucking disaster and not his own, but he had a haughty French bastard in it.

That was one of the better things, actually.

Maybe he _should_ let Jean drive the Maserati off a bridge.

“ _If you don’t look ahead at the road, we’ll be going off a bridge regardless_ ,” he pointed out with a slight smile.

Jean let out a weary sigh as he stared straight ahead. “ _I have been damned to a living hell_.”

Neil nodded as he rested his chin on top of his knees. “ _Yep, know the feeling_.”

It was quiet again for a minute or two, but that time it was more comfortable. “ _Do you… what about calling Minyard_?” Jean asked as he went around a tractor trailer.

Neil thought about it for a moment while he chewed his bottom lip then shook his head. “ _No_.” When Jean gave him a quick side glance, he sighed. “ _I don’t want to talk to him about this. About Ichirou_ ,” he attempted to explain. Something inside of him twisted into knots at the thought, about explaining how he let Ichirou do those things to him, about being Ichirou’s – **no**. “ _I don’t want t_ o,” he repeated as the twisting worked its way into his chest. “ _He… he might not like that about me_.” It bothered him, the possibility of Andrew not liking him. Of them not being friends.

Jean muttered something beneath his breath while he shook his head. “ _I think you’re being a foolish devil and he won’t care, but it’s your choice. Call him tomorrow, though, before he starts pestering me_.” He glanced at Neil until Neil nodded. “ _Do we go back now_?”

Neil hated to keep Jean awake any longer, but…. “ _I like this_ ,” he admitted. “ _It reminds me of the times with my mother when we would drive around_.” They even had someone following them, though for once it was a good thing.

“ _Okay_.” Jean didn’t argue or protest, he merely kept on the highway and after a minute they started talking about other things. Neil brought up Knox and smiled as his friend ranted about stupid, stubborn American men with no sense or boundaries (things were going well there, it seemed). At some point during their discussion about the upcoming Belmonte game, Neil must have fallen asleep because he remembered talking defense and it being dark out and-

-and the sky was starting to lighten and there were signs about the campus only being a few miles away, along with the scent of coffee filling the car. He groaned as he stretched his legs and glanced over at a bleary-eyed Jean. “Why?”

“Because you were sleeping so peacefully,” Jean argued as he reached down for his large cup of coffee – he had to be telling the truth if he’d managed to stop for coffee and gas without Neil noticing.

“But we have practice in,” Neil frowned as he gazed at the time, “less than an hour.”

Jean shrugged, the motion elegant and unbothered. “It’s not the first time I’ve showed up with no sleep.”

"Yeah, but-"

"It's fine," Jean said, a bitter twist to his lips with the last word that evened out when he noticed Neil's frown. "No, don't argue with me this time, it really is. If you're that unhappy about it, you can shock me by behaving for once."

Neil gazed at him for a few seconds before he sighed. "I suppose." He rubbed at his eyes and sighed again. "What the hell, how did you manage to drive for hours without killing us?"

"That is not you behaving, you impudent devil."

Bren looked just as exhausted when they pulled into the parking at the Ravens' weekend house, but was rather smug of the picture he'd taken at the gas station when Jean had stopped to refuel the Maserati and get coffee; Neil was curled up in the passenger seat, dead asleep. "You're so cute when you're too tired to cause any trouble."

Neil gave him a rude gesture before he stomped inside.

The bastard had gone and shared the picture, too.

At least Marley and Dan fussed more over Jean than Neil that morning, which gave him some needed space, and he assisted Dan and Jake as much as possible with practice while Jean oversaw the freshmen with their drills (not as difficult at that point in the season). When it came to their daily workout session, Jean spent some time on the treadmill while the freshmen took turns reciting the stats about the upcoming Belmonte game.

Since it had stopped raining at some point before morning and the sun had come out to dry things, Neil managed to get out onto the roof before anyone could stop him.

Jean stuck his head out of the window and scowled. "This is not what I consider 'behaving', I'll have you know."

"What? I'm not running off or anything, I'm right here. Now go to bed, you're unbearable when you're tired like this." Neil went to wave him away but stopped when he slid a little down the slick shingles.

Jean took to doing that cursing beneath his breath thing he did so well (and often), but at least he went away - and was replaced by Bren, who somehow fit his bulk into the window to sit there like a surly gargoyle. "I really will throttle your scrawny neck if you fall."

"Sure, go ahead," Neil told him as he pulled his phone out of the front pocket of his hoodie. "Enjoy."

"I like you better when you're passed out."

"So do a lot of people," Neil assured him as he called Andrew. "Hello."

"He still lives." Andrew sounded unimpressed by that fact.

"For now." Neil found himself smiling for some reason as he hugged his left arm around his knees; he was sore from practice and the night before, but he felt relaxed when he talked to Andrew, felt a tension he never really noticed during the week leave him all at once. "I'd say 'nice job' for winning last night, but you beat the Lions. My old high school team could have beaten the Lions."

"Are you on that damn roof?" Andrew asked. "Can I bribe Bren or one of the others into pushing you off?"

"Ha, ha." Neil closed his eyes so he could better savor Andrew's deep voice, which was odd because there was so little emotion to it. "You'd miss me if I fell."

"Only like one misses a constant nagging thorn in their foot and then it's suddenly gone."

"Mean lazy fox," Neil murmured, still a little tired from... from everything, really. The semester wasn't even halfway over yet, not that he'd get much of a break come the end of the year.

Andrew was quiet long enough to draw in his cigarette, then exhale in a heavy manner. "All right, I never thought I'd say this but I actually prefer 'lazy goth'."

Neil's smile widened as he rubbed his cheek against his right knee. "I was right about you."

"And I was right about you going off that roof, just wait and see, little bird."

"Bren won't let me." Maybe.

"I'll throw him off, too."

"Wow, my percentage must really be up there if you're going to involve that much effort in my death."

There was another pregnant pause and loud exhale. "Depends, you going to tell me about last night and your impromptu road-trip?"

Neil's good mood came crashing down and he opened his eyes to stare out at the woods behind the house, at the hint of orange and red and yellow creeping into the canopy of green. "I don't want to talk about it." He seemed to say that a lot lately, didn't he?

"That's not the song I want to hear."

"Andrew... _no_." He hated how his voice hitched on that word, but Andrew was one of the few (the only) people he could say it to and expect it to be heeded. " _It's... it'll be better now. Things are 'cleaned up' so it'll be better, and that's all_ ,” he said in German while he hugged his knees tighter to his chest and refused to think about last night, other than riding in the car with Jean.

He chewed on his bottom lip while he waited to see if Andrew would push or not, and let out a breath he hadn’t been aware he was holding when his friend clicked his tongue. “ _You know that it’s a ‘better for now’, don’t you? That’s how these things go, Neil. Something else is going to happen sooner or later, you’re not in a safe or stable world_.”

Neil picked at the left cuff of his sweatpants. “ _I never was_.” He wasn’t Marley or Meg, after all. He was a Wesninski and a Hatford, had been born into this ‘world’ twice-over.

“ _That doesn’t mean you’re stuck there forever.”_ Andrew actually sounded earnest just then _. “Kevin got out_.”

“ _Not really_ ,” Neil reminded him. “ _He’s still owes the family something, and he wasn’t in all of the way. Me and Jean? There’s no walking away for us_.” He pressed his fingers against the tattoo on his cheek and fantasized for a moment about pulling out his knife to carve it off – but it wouldn’t be that simple, would it? It would just be another scar, another memory of pain when there were so many other chains binding him in place. “ _I’ve tried running already and it cost me too much. I’m not letting anyone else die for the false illusion of freedom that won’t last very long_.”

“ _Running away or staying there like a fool martyr aren’t your only options, dammit_ ,” Andrew snapped in a rare show of temper.

“ _He’s not going to let me go_ ,” Neil said. “ _And I’m not going to break my promise. I don’t see any other choices_.”

“ _You really do make me want to throttle you. I hate you **so** much_.” Andrew’s voice was devoid of all emotion then, and all Neil could do was smile.

“I know, I’m sorry. I really do wish I could let you push me off of this roof or something.” He ran his fingers through his hair while Bren muttered about half-mad Hatfords.

“It’s too quick a death for you,” Andrew complained, and they spent the rest of the call arguing about the best way for Andrew to go about killing Neil.

As soon as he hung up and put the phone away, he felt a firm hold on the back of his shirt and sighed as he was hauled inside as if a wayward kitten by its overprotective mother. “I was _fine_ ,” he insisted to a glowering Bren.

“Red, the longer I know you? The more certain I am that nothing’s ‘fine’ with you,” Bren grumbled, then let out a slow breath as Neil’s expression smoothed out. “I don’t mean it like that, I just… well… you’re off the charts even for a Hatford, kid.”

“Thanks.” He offered his friend a slight smile. “Did you get any sleep?” He hadn’t seen the man during practice or lunch and hoped that meant Bren had crashed in the room that the bodyguards kept between ‘shifts’.

“Yeah, enough to keep me going until you guys head to Dan’s for the evening. She said it’ll be a movie night, so I’ll be able to sleep some more while Janna puts up with you terrors.” He grinned at that as they made their way back to the room.

It wasn’t a bad night, all in all; Bren and Jean did fall asleep during the movie (something about people in costumes running around fighting aliens) while Matt caught Neil and Marley up on what had happened at Palmetto State during the past two weeks (caught them up on Meg and Andrew). Neil supposed it was an almost normal thing to do, go to someone’s home and ‘hang out’, to eat (healthy) snacks while a movie played in the background and talk about people you knew and a sport you all loved (except your best friend and the bodyguards your lover/lord sent to keep an eye on you).

Yeah, perfectly normal.

The next week was spent preparing for the Belmonte game, and Neil felt that he could breathe a little for once, could breathe a little since he wouldn’t have to worry about Ichirou for a short while. No, he just had to focus on winning, to keep moving the Ravens forward.

All the red cards and suspensions being thrown around finally seemed to do some good as Belmonte played hard and rough but kept the verbal assaults to a minimum. Oh, there were a few ‘you like that, princess’ (what the hell, really?) and homophobic slurs, some rude jabs at Marley and Avery and the other women on the team, but it Neil could tune it out with ease. It was evident that Belmonte was desperate to remain in the top four and wasn’t going to lose their spot because of their players being ineligible to play/score points – like Breckenridge.

Neil didn’t give a damn, not when the Ravens won yet again, when Jean continued onward with a winning streak in his final year, when he would prove to the Barons just how much of a valuable player he was (how valuable an _asset_ ).

(When Ichirou would take him from Neil.)

Before Neil could talk to Andrew that Saturday, he called his uncle to find out the schedule for the next weekend and wasn’t surprised by either the fact that he and Jean would leave PSU to fly directly to New York or that they’d deal with Nike for a while before catching a Barons game (someone was making it clear their future team affiliation).

Andrew didn’t seem surprised to find out that Neil couldn’t spend much time at the PSU campus or that he was going to New York after the game, either. “I think someone is an insecure little bitch just like his brother.”

Neil winced at that; he was relatively certain that Ichirou didn’t bug his phone, but _still_. “No comment.”

“Yes, an insecure little bitch.”

He caught himself just in time before he said ‘please’. “I’d, ah, appreciate it if you’d stop saying that.”

“Insecure. _Little_. **Bitch**.”

Yeah, he should have known that wouldn’t work - he was just grateful that he didn’t have the call on speakerphone, since he wasn’t sure how Bren would react to the insult.

They arranged to meet up before the game started, at least, and spent the rest of the call talking about general things. Sometimes Neil got the feeling that his friend was trying to avoid setting off a panic attack, which annoyed him because he wasn’t… he was dealing with things. He was fine. Really.

Though maybe him being up on the roof had something to do with it.

For some reason the sophomores and freshmen were looking forward to the game against the Foxes on Friday, while the upperclassmen were focused on beating a Day back in his prime. If there was one thing the Ravens thrived on, it was a challenge, and taking down their former ‘2’? One of the Perfect Court turned ‘traitor’? Oh yes, it would be a good game.

Neil sighed when Marley _and_ Ethan put their phones in front of his face while he sat at the back of the bus with Jean. “Come on, Shorty and Crusty, give us something good!” Marley frowned when Neil held up two fingers and Jean one. “Now that’s not nice.”

“I can work with it.” Ethan grinned as he swiped away on his phone.

“ _I hate Riko even more now_ ,” Jean muttered as he fixed the two with a baleful stare.

“ _Huh, didn’t think that was possible_.” Neil tugged the hood of his (Jean’s) sweatshirt even farther over his head in an attempt to block out the photos.

“Aw, come on!” Marley chided him. “No hiding the cuteness! Captain! Make Neil stop being an anti-social bastard, I want to try this new kitty filter.”

“ _Maybe I can climb out the window_ ,” Neil mused aloud as he craned his neck to check out the escape route once again; he hadn’t thought it possible before, but he had added incentive now – especially when that small, pleased smile spread across Jean’s full lips. “Ah hell.”

Before he could make his escape (the bus wasn’t going _that_ fast), Jean wrapped an arm around his shoulders and yanked down the hood, then held him in place so Marley (and Ethan and Miranda) could take pictures of him. He had hope of Dan putting a stop to it when she came to the back of the bus, but all she did was suggest new filters for them to use, the traitor.

“Where were you when I really needed you?” he complained to Bren once the bus reached the Foxhole Court. “I was horribly abused.”

Bren and Declan gave him concerned looks while Dan and Marley didn’t bother to hide their laughter and Jean rolled his eyes. When Bren gave Dan a questioning look, she held up her phone by way of answer. “Right, yeah, real abuse there.” He reached over to tousle Neil’s hair. “I liked the kitty one best myself, and I’m not alone.”

Neil decided he didn’t want to know.

They were escorted to the Away locker room, and once there Neil wasted no time in changing into his uniform then joining Dan in the lounge so they could go out into the tunnel leading out to court, the tunnel where Andrew and Matt were waiting for them.

Neil felt his heart race as if he’d been running when he caught sight of Andrew and he started smiling for no reason. All at once he thought of the fox plushie hidden in his closet and how he wanted to find another of those silly goth-baby ones so he could send it to his friend and hopefully get some sort of reaction out of him, how he was so excited to see Andrew out on the court and play against him, how he could hear his deep voice in person, could look into his almost golden eyes and-

And it was so _much_. He didn’t know why Andrew always brought out so _much_.

Andrew looked him up and down then gazed at Dan in an unimpressed manner. “Where’s his collar?”

“Did everyone see those damn pics?” Neil gritted out.

Matt beamed as he reached out to hug Dan. “The puppy one is my new screensaver! Missed you, babe,” he told Dan before he gave her a kiss and didn’t catch the flat look directed his way from Andrew.

“Do me a favor and aim the balls at Marley, okay?” Neil asked Andrew as he went to stand by his friend.

“I didn’t hear that!”

He ignored Dan and gazed at Andrew, who seemed to be considering the request. “What’ll you give me for it?”

“Uhm… what do you want?” He knew that Andrew would keep the ‘favor’ within limits.

Andrew was quiet for a couple of seconds, and Neil was unable to look away from him the entire time, found himself noticing how his friend smelled of cigarettes, the faint, pale stubble along his strong jaw and cheeks as if he hadn’t bothered to shave that day, a cowlick near his left temple and- “You’ll owe me.”

“Okay.” Neil was fine with that. He resumed smiling as Andrew reached out to tug on the front of his shirt to pull him a little further from Dan and Matt. “You pick your Halloween costume yet? Gonna surprise me and wear something other than black and depressing?”

“That’s Kevin. I’m going to be an ornithologist this year,” Andrew told him with a straight face, and it took Neil a moment to figure that out.

“Ha, ha.” Neil leaned against the concrete wall of the tunnel, a small moue of distaste on his lips over all the bright orange which he knew that Andrew noticed. “I’m sure you’ll be popular at that club you like.”

“Yes.” Andrew leaned next to him, their shoulders almost but not quite touching. “What about you? Any wild and crazy parties at the Nest? Or that fancy house of yours?”

Halloween was on a Sunday that year, and usually they were back in the Nest by Sunday night so they could be on court for the early morning practice. However…. “I’m not sure,” Neil admitted. “We’ve never celebrated it before, maybe Coach will let us do something this year. Sure it won’t be anything big, though.” He fussed with the front of his jersey as he thought about the ‘holiday’ weekend. “That’s if I’m not in New York or… well, you know.” If he wasn’t with Ichirou, like that weekend.

“Yeah.” Andrew’s lips pressed together for a moment as if to keep from saying something and then he glanced aside. “What’s the point of celebrating when you don’t like candy?”

“Not all of us are trying to come down with diabetes before we’re thirty,” Neil said as he thought of Meg, Dan and Matt’s stories about how much ice cream Andrew could eat.

“Now you sound like Kevin,” Andrew shot back, well aware of how little Neil would appreciate the remark.

“Go ahead and aim those balls at me, too.”

“Oh no, I want you to suffer,” Andrew told him in all seriousness. “As I said, I’ve changed my mind on that whole ‘throw you off the roof’ thing. Too quick a death.”

“Ah, now I feel so loved,” Neil quipped as he struggled to not toy with the necklace, his hand sliding down his chest instead.

For some reason, Andrew stared at him for several seconds before speaking. “Do you?”

“Huh?”

“Feel loved.”

“Uhm….” Was that a joke?

Andrew rubbed at his eyes with the heel of his hand. “Never mind. Who’s going to help you pass your classes once I take out Patel?”

“Hey! I’m not doing too badly this semester!” He wasn’t for once; Chinese was proving a fun challenge and he was taking more linguistic classes since he’d gotten a lot of basic requirements out of the way. They talked about their classes until the rest of the Ravens came into the tunnel so they could enter the court and warm up, which made Andrew step away from Neil.

“Kevin’s determined to end your winning streak this semester,” he warned as he gave Neil a two-fingered salute goodbye.

“Not gonna happen,” Neil told him; he refused to let Day beat the Ravens after everything that had happened, to overshadow _Jean_. Day had his time to shine and had bartered for a long leash in regards to the Moriyamas, could do what he wanted as long as he played well in the pros. Jean had a lot more riding on it, so Neil would do whatever was necessary to ensure that his friend could find some sort of happiness in the limited freedom he’d gain come summer.

Noguchi had the team work on their stretches and do a few laps before practices a few drills and shots on the goals on the Away side of the court to warm up; Neil noticed that Hemmick waved to him several times while Matheson and Hurst scowled whenever he or Marley smiled at Meg. That was probably what prompted his friend to saunter over to talk to her, the two ex-partners exchanging a hug and chatting for a few minutes before their respective coaches called out their names to make them resume practice.

"Hmm, the Foxes really should reconsider all that pizza and fast food, looks like too much sodium in their diets," Neil remarked as he glanced back at Matheson and Hurst, their faces red with indignation.

"My dad always said a bit of spice is good for you, much better than salt any day." Marley twirled her racquet between her palms, a smug expression on her face. "Then again, I think some people are assholes so nothing's gonna help them, might as well have fun twisting their tails while we can."

"Just don't say that in front of Jean, for some reason he seems to think I'm responsible for you being an evil bitch all of a sudden and doesn't realize you've always been this way."

Marley's smile took on a pleased air. "Yeah, isn't it great?" She laughed when Neil shoved her in the side.

Matt won the coin toss that day, and from the start Neil could tell that the Foxes were vastly improved from the past year. There were still some gaps in their teamwork, some holes to exploit - Hayes wasn't half the goalie Andrew was so the Ravens pushed hard on defense to score points while they could - but Neil knew that the score would be a lot closer than with other teams. More importantly, there were no insults, no rough play, no taunts - well, other than Matheson, and that was nothing more than the usual from the sophomore striker. When he could get near Neil, that was.

The biggest difference was Day, was seeing him at batter the Ravens' defense, go toe to toe against Jean and Leif and Ben. As much as Neil could hate the bastard at times, he had to respect him for his immense talent and his ability to make impossible shots look so easy. For the first time in a while, it was fun to be out on court again.

It only got better when Andrew was in the goal, a stocky, solid presence in his white and orange uniform and huge racquet. He might claim to hold no love for the game, to not care about its outcome or who won, but that time he seemed to put actual effort into shutting down the goal. Neil grinned at each blocked shot and laughed whenever he or another Raven scored a point (only four times in the second half).

The Foxes lost, but they'd held their own against the Ravens, had kept the crowd cheering throughout the entire game. Neil doubted anyone would count them out for being in the top four at the end of the fall season, for them to be in the top four come the championship season at that.

"We need to start feeding you some fried food and sweets or something, stuff to make you slow down a little," Matt complained with a wide grin as he shook Neil's hand. "I'll work on Dan about it."

"Good luck," Neil told him while Meg laughed. "You dump the loser boyfriend yet?"

"Nah, I think he's growing on me," she said while Yee beamed beside her, seeming to have finally caught on to how they teased each other. "I'll give him a little longer."

"And people think I’m a glutton for punishment.”

“You are,” Andrew told him. “That’s not up for debate.”

“I believe someone’s just a little bitter that we kicked their asses yet again.” Neil smiled at his friend while Marley laughed and Day glared at them.

“We’re getting close, wait ‘til this spring!” Day seemed convinced that the Foxes would have a chance of winning the championship, which was just delusional.

“Close isn’t enough,” Jean shot back. “But still, we welcome the challenge.”

Neil held on to Andrew’s hand for a few seconds while their two friends bickered about a future game; it felt comfortable and made him remember the time at the Winter banquet at Madison where they’d sat in the locker room together.

And then Marley jostled him to move on and Matheson made some sort of snide comment beneath his breath which made Andrew jerk his left elbow into the asshole’s side; Neil gave the gasping striker a smile as he walked past him down the line.

Noguchi had him and Jean deal with the press before they left for the airport, and a lot of questions revolved around Day and the Foxes’ chances of making the final rounds of the championship season. Neil let his partner do most of the talking but got a couple of comments in on how the Foxes still needed to tighten up their teamwork even though a couple of players weren’t rookies (aimed at Matheson), but that yes, he looked forward to playing the team in the future.

Afterward, he, Jean, Bren and Masato were off to New York; since they flew on a commercial plane, Neil and Jean dealt with a few fans along the way, eager for pictures together and autographs. He was tired when they reached the Lowell hotel and anxious that Ichirou would want to see him that night, and slumped with relief when he was able to retreat to the suite with Jean and Bren.

There was a basket of fruit and snacks waiting for him, as always, and garment bags for the next day. Saturday would be busy since they’d have a photo shoot with Nike in the late morning followed by an interview for Exy World and would attend a Barons game that evening.

“ _Go soak in the bath_ ,” Jean told Neil while giving him a gentle push toward the bathroom.

Neil hesitated for a moment before giving his partner a grateful smile. “ _You and Bren are going to drink, aren’t you_?”

“ _We need to, after dealing with a devil like you_.”

Neil let him have the last word and hurried to the bathroom, busy pulling his sweatshirt over his head. He’d barely been in the bath for five minutes, sunk in the hot water to the bottom of his nose, when Jean came in, already smelling of cognac, with a cup of tea and a few butter biscuits on the saucer. His friend set them down on the edge of the tub, told him not to drown, and left him alone.

It was peaceful and near perfect. Neil forced himself out after almost an hour; he wrapped himself in a thick, overlarge robe and joined his friends out on the balcony overlooking the city, content to listen to them bicker about which country made the best alcohol while he leaned against Jean’s side.

It was Jean’s turn to soak in the tub the next morning while Neil fetched him a couple of fancy coffees, then they ate a simple breakfast together (Bren enjoyed steak and eggs) before their day truly started. It was more strangers touching them and ordering them about, more posing and questions and smiling, and Neil knew that he had to accept it because nothing about it was ever going to change.

At least people seemed to be moving past the damn scandal, finally, or at least accepting that he and Jean weren’t going to talk about it (ever).

It was too busy to get out to shop that day, but he was able to ‘grab’ some freebies from Nike and, after texting Meg to ask her for some information, he picked out a pair of high top shoes in a glittering black suede (which looked utterly impractical for running) that should annoy the hell out of a certain lazy goth.

Jean gave him an arch look for his selection. “ _How mature of you_.”

“ _It’ll brighten up his wardrobe_ ,” Neil argued.

“ _Yes, I’m sure **that’s** why you’re doing it_.” Jean sounded a bit disgusted for some reason.

“ _And what does that mean_?” Neil glared when his partner ignored him. “ _Don’t start something if you don’t intend to finish it_.”

“ _Yes **, exactly**_.”

Neil was beginning to see his mother’s point about not involving himself in other people’s lives.

Evening came and they were dressed in nice pants and shirts once again (ready for photos to be taken) and off to the Barons’ stadium, where Radcliffe showed them around on court (perfect photo opportunity). It was being made clearer and clearer to everyone that Jean was going to be a Baron next summer, that the team was only waiting for the unofficial signing period of later in the season before bringing out the contract, and that Neil would follow his partner once he graduated.

Neil smiled and posed with the team (with his ‘4’ tattoo on display) and even took a couple of swings at the goal before he could ‘escape’ up to the private box where Ichirou waited for them. Where he would smile some more and answer back when spoken to, would translate if needed like a good employee, would end the night in his lord’s bed. He knew what to expect after the last couple of years.

He knew how to act, to react, to pretend, to withdraw and wait.

It was just a weekend.

In two more years it would be his life.

*******

“So I think it’s safe to say that the Foxes are in second place, not that you give a damn. Or a fuck. Or a-“

“I get it,” Andrew said as he flicked ash out into the air while he sat out on the roof. “Overkill much?”

“I know not of what you speak.” Neil sounded almost normal just then. _Almost_.

His little bird had been fading the last few weeks, had been snarky on the surface but subdued beneath. Had been oddly passive and unwilling to argue about things related to Moreau and the Barons and Moriyama.

It was as if Neil had thrown in the towel and just wanted Andrew to accept things as fait accompli, to not give him any grief on how things would be from there on out. As if Andrew could just go along with Neil’s future as Ichirou’s little passive doll, his bedwarmer and moneymaker and-

He _hated_ how Neil didn’t see any way out other than giving in. It reminded him too much of how things had been back in California, of what had driven Andrew to cut into his own flesh, to give in to Drake, to end up in juvie and eventually land in South Carolina.

He’d given away so much of himself, _too_ much of himself, and now had to watch as some fool martyr did the same thing.

“Right, not like you’ve ever overdone anything,” Andrew said. “How much whiskey has Bren drank this week alone?”

“Uhm….”

“Yeah, I thought so.” He inhaled and savored the warmth in his lungs; December in South Carolina was a bitch, compared to California.

“I’m going to enjoy kicking your ass in the semi-finals,” Neil declared; since the Foxes had managed to land the second spot in the southeast division due Breckenridge fucking up so much, the Foxes and the Ravens wouldn’t play each other until the semi-finals at the earliest. Granted, the official announcement about the line-up wouldn’t be until Friday, but it was easy to figure out that year because of all the suspensions due to players being red-carded or the ERC stepping in; the overall point average was quite drastic once you got past the Ravens, Foxes, and Belmonte.

“We’re the only real competition you have left,” Andrew reminded him; Penn State wasn’t anything special that year, was riding on their reputation while the Trojans were adjusting after losing several of their upperclassmen.

“Doesn’t mean we won’t still kick your ass.”

“Dream on, little bird.”

“Like a lazy fox is going to bother much, semi-finals or no.”

Andrew wanted to ask what was really bothering Neil, to push beyond talk about stupid stickball… but Neil seemed to prefer to stay with general topics anymore. To not delve too deeply into anything that would tip the precarious balance he seemed to have with everything weighing down upon him those days.

“You’d be surprised,” Andrew drawled; there was silence for several seconds before Neil changed the subject and talked about his latest session with Murray. Andrew was beginning to wonder if a certain little bird had finally figured out things (or partially figured out things), but continued to live on in denial to make things easier (for one of them, anyway).

After all, someone would be spending their winter break back in New York City, while rumors said a certain backliner would finally sign with the Barons. Andrew imagined that would make for such a nice, romantic holiday.

They finished up the conversation talking about their travel plans to the banquet before Andrew hung up. He spent a few more minutes on the roof checking his phone to see if there was a new message from Renee but it looked as if she was asleep or something.

He hated to admit that he missed her, as useless as she could be at times. She was annoying with her good Christian girl, Pollyanna viewpoint of the world… but she could fight and she insisted on having his back (on most things), and she knew how to listen. Curtis was improving on the sparring front (slowly), but she was still cautious about saying too much to him in regards to Neil and Andrew didn’t have anything in common with girl from a happy, stable home.

He returned to the suite to find Katelyn there (surprise, surprise), talking to Aaron about her dress for the banquet. “Hello,” she called out to him as he went into the kitchen and didn’t seem upset when he ignored her (she never did).

She and Aaron came into the kitchen a couple of minutes later, while Andrew was drinking a bottle of soda. “Hey, can I borrow those black and blue shoes Neil sent you?” Aaron asked. “They match Katelyn’s dress.”

For a moment Andrew was tempted to say ‘no’ for the spite of it, but he wasn’t in the mood for weeks of sulking and then to put up with Bee on top of it – that and it might be interesting to see Neil’s reaction to his brother wearing a pair of the ridiculous shoes that the idiot kept sending to him. “Whatever,” Andrew said with a slight shrug, which prompted a surprised yet pleased look from his brother which was quickly masked and a smile from Katelyn.

“See, now you don’t have to buy new dress shoes and you won’t be uncomfortable all night,” she told Aaron as they walked away.

“Yeah, but Nicky will probably complain.”

“Leave him to me.”

Andrew finished his drink then went to the bedroom, where he dug through his closet for the pair of shoes in question – Nike high tops in black leather with bright blue embellishments. Ever since his reaction to the glitter black pair (‘WTF’, basically), Neil seemed to delight in sending him obnoxious shoes which he must receive as part of his endorsement deal.

Nicky was jealous, Kevin upset that Andrew would never put them to good use (and yelled at him to tell Neil to send a decent pair of trainers), while Aaron went on about how much they’d be worth online.

All Andrew cared about was each pair meant that it was another weekend Neil spent with Ichirou.

He set the pair on Aaron’s dresser before he went to get ready for bed then climbed into his bunk to read before falling asleep.

The next couple of days seemed to drag out since Andrew’s classes had wrapped up, other than him needing to turn in a research paper, and practice being finished for the season. He exchanged a few texts with Neil and saw Bee one more time, put up with Nicky facilitating over what to wear to the banquet and Kevin complaining about how their plans for the break didn't allow for him to practice enough. Friday night there was an end of the semester party down in the basement with the Foxes and the Vixens, one which Andrew skipped in favor of hanging out on the roof and texting with Neil, who had been dragged to a similar event with the Ravens (a group movie night - Wilds' idea).

Judging from the pictures that Patel and Wilds posted online, Neil would have been happier up on the roof; he sat huddled next to Moreau with a confused expression on his face for much of the first movie (they inflicted 'The Fast and the Furious' on him) and fell asleep during the second. Andrew did have to admit, his little bird's texts along the lines of 'that's not how you go about stealing cars' and 'these are the dumbest criminals I've ever seen' were amusing.

Neil appeared to be in a better mood come the next day as the Ravens were on the bus to Georgia; Andrew wished that he could say the same, considering he was once more stuck in a closed environment with a bunch of hyper morons. The Foxes were excited about their overall accumulative points that season and their winning average, well aware that they had placed second even without the ERC's confirmation. "We're going all the way this year!" Matheson yelled. "Those birds are going down!"

Hurst snickered at that statement and shared a look with her partner in crime while she made a rude gesture with her right hand and tongue stuck in her cheek. "Good thing they're experts at it, right? Bet they'll thank us for it while they're on their knees." A couple of the freshmen gave nervous laughs while Andrew stilled and Nicky scowled, but before anyone could react, Wymack was out of his seat behind Abby, who was driving the bus.

"If I ever hear another comment like that about anyone, you're suspended for three games, do you understand me?" he growled out while looming above her. "As is, you're benched for one."

"But Coach, I-"

"No, I don't want to hear it, try arguing and it's _two_ games." He stared her down until she looked away, face flushed with either anger or shame, then turned that baleful gaze on Matheson until the little bastard squirmed in his seat. "Anything you want to say?"

"No, Coach," he muttered.

"I didn't think so." Wymack straightened up and gazed around the bus. "That goes for everyone - it should be obvious by now that I won't tolerate shit like that from you idiots, that I expect better from you. Even try to start something tonight and you'll be benched for the rest of the season, championship games or not, do you understand?"

"Yes, Coach." The response was a bit ragged, in part from the disbelief of half of the newer players at Wymack risking their season like that, but the rest of them knew he wasn't joking.

It quieted down after that, which was fine with Andrew; in-between 'talking' with Neil and looking at the pictures that Patel posted, he got some reading in while Kevin talked with Boyd and Curtis about their upcoming games after the break.

Abby parked the bus and everyone grabbed their bags so they could change in the locker rooms at the Spartans' stadium, the Foxes and their respective dates (Aaron and Whitfield had brought along 'guests' for the weekend). Once they were ready, Boyd led them into the stadium proper, where Andrew internally sighed at all the poinsettias and fake Christmas trees scattered about, along with what had to be about a ton of gold tinsel. Apparently, the Spartans didn't believe in 'understated'.

Toby Conner, captain of the Spartans, greeted them and exchanged some words with Boyd and Curtis, jovial enough to make Andrew wonder if there was some spiked punch around the place.

"So you guys are good with the Ravens now, right?" Conner asked with a hint of anxiousness as he glanced at Kevin. "Because it wasn't fun, trying to figure out the seating arrangement this time around, considering everything that's going on this season."

Boyd straightened up while Curtis shook her head. "No, we're good. All that was on Riko before, and...."

Conner winced a little as he held up his hands. "Yeah, no more needs to be said. All right then, glad to know that's one less thing to worry about," he said as he led them to a table where the Ravens were seated; Moreau and Neil stood up to greet them, which meant the rest of the Ravens stood up as well, which prompted Matheson to make a snide comment beneath his breath which earned him an elbow in the side from Hayes.

"Matt," Moreau acknowledged him with a slight nod and then smiled at Curtis. "You look well, considering that you associate with this disgraceful bunch."

While several of the sophomores and freshmen appeared to take offense at the teasing, Curtis smiled. "Well, hanging out with Neil for a year certainly helped to prepare me for the Foxes."

Neil gave her a flat look for a couple of seconds while Patel and Boyd laughed. "I should have dumped you on the Trojans."

Everyone sat down while Curtis proclaimed that he really didn't mean that; Andrew noticed a couple of glances sent his way from Neil while people chatted back and forth. The two teams were a bit guarded with each other outside of Patel, Curtis, Moreau, Boyd and Neil, but slowly lowered their guard. Well, Matheson and Hurst sat there and refused to talk to anyone but each other, which wasn't much of a surprise.

"You like your new shoes?" Patel asked Andrew, her lips curled into a knowing smirk.

"The homeless love them," he told her with a flat look.

"I'm sure they do."

"Aaron's wearing a pair tonight," Katelyn just had to cut in as she leaned forward. "It seemed a shame to let them gather dust in the closet."

Andrew picked up his butter knife and stared at it for several seconds before his brother, who sat on his left side, shook his head and tapped the table several times while appearing offended. "Really?"

Andrew stared blankly at him for a couple of seconds before he turned away.

Once all the teams had arrived, the Spartans' coach got up on the small stage to call out the top four ranked teams for the year, which didn't surprise anyone who’d paid attention: Edgar Allan, Palmetto State, Belmonte and Breckenridge. There was a lot of murmuring at the unusual order, and Andrew gazed over Tollis’ shoulder to see some unhappy faces at the Breckenridge table. Oh how sad, his heart was breaking for the former best in the district.

Since he sat a little closer to Neil, Kevin got in a debate with his fellow striker about what type of racquets were best to use and preferred grips and didn't seem to realize that Neil was trolling him for half an hour. Kevin was taken aback at the fact at first, then began arguing in earnest afterwards, which should teach the little bird not to be such a smart ass - _should_. Somehow, Andrew suspected that Neil wasn't one prone to learn that lesson.

Soon enough the bland meal was finished and everyone stood up, but unlike in past years, most of the players didn't move too far from table; the freshmen Foxes did and, after Boyd gave them a stern look, so did most of the sophomores. A few of the Ravens stepped aside but they didn't go far, it was more spreading out a little and breaking into small groups while still remaining close to their captain, vice-captain and Patel (with two familiar 'coaches' lurking in the distance).

"You're not wearing the shoes," Neil complained as he glanced at Andrew's feet. "Couldn't stand the thought of being contaminated by something meant for exerting yourself?"

"I fail to see how anything with glitter on it is meant for exertion," Andrew said as he approached the smart ass. "Where's your pair, hmm?"

"Such a shame they don't make them in red glitter." Neil smiled at him in equal parts amused and wickedness.

"How about I dunk you in some?" Andrew glanced around the garish court and allowed a hint of a sneer to curl his upper lip. "Probably can find some here."

"It is rather awful, isn't it?"

"It's festive," Katelyn tried to argue, then sighed when everyone gave her varying looks of disbelief for that statement. "Okay, it's festivity on crack. Someone went _way_ overboard."

“Oh my god, I love the holidays but this-“ Nicky sounded pained right then while he flapped his hands about as if struggling to find the proper words. “It’s horrid!”

Poetic Patel nodded in agreement. “I mean, I know my parents go all out all, they love any excuse to break out a bit of color because come on, it’s all white lights and stupid fake snowmen and reindeer around our house this time of year.” She rolled her eyes while Nicky groaned in sympathy. “They make our place look like Holi came early or something, but it’s still a lot classier than _this_.”

Despite the fact that Patel grabbed any excuse to knock him on his ass, Nicky and Patel took to bonding over decorating, along with Katelyn and Curtis while Aaron and Yee stood around looking uncomfortably at each other and the floor in-between pathetic smiles at their respective girlfriends.

Neil gave them a wistful smile for a moment before settling his attention on Andrew. “I’m trying to remember if you said anything about Nicky decorating the place for the holidays.”

That time Kevin groaned while Andrew scoffed. “He tries with some stupid tree, a few strings of lights and wreaths on the door, but we’re just home for two weeks if that, maybe a weekend or two before the end of the year. There’s no sense in putting in all the effort.”

“Still… it must be nice to have someone who bothers.” There was a far-away look in Neil’s eyes and Moreau hovered right next to him. “The hotel will have a few trees up, that’s the closest to anything we really get.”

“Dan’s talked about decorating the house, but we’re not there much, no one sees the point,” Moreau said. “She offered to have us over to help with her tree, but….” He shrugged, the motion elegant.

“I’ve never done it before,” Neil admitted as he tugged on the cuffs of his black sweater, that look in his eyes now bleak. “Besides, didn’t seem right to cut in on her time with Matt.”

That made Boyd start, his expression one of a person staring at an abandoned puppy, and before he could do something that would get him stabbed like hug Neil, Andrew spoke up. “You’re not missing anything, it’s just throwing a bunch of stupid shit on a dying or fake tree.”

Neil shook himself and smiled, the expression a little ‘off’ but still a fair attempt. “Yeah, would rather be practicing or something.”

“Yes, exactly!” Kevin gave Andrew a pointed look as he rubbed at the back of his left hand. “Which is why we need to spend less time in Col-“

_“No_ ,” Andrew told him, “it’s a damn break, so shut up before I break you.”

“But we can’t fall behind, not if we’re going to beat the Ravens this spring!”

“Oh, _someone’s_ been drinking a lot tonight,” Moreau remarked while Neil grinned in earnest.

Kevin’s expression was somewhere between indignant and arrogant, which wasn’t anything new for him. “Go to hell,” that _was_ new, not his usual ‘fuck you’, “you know we’re going to kick your ass.”

It went downhill from there with Neil and Moreau taking him on, though Boyd jumped in to help after a minute or two. Andrew left the two morons to their fate since it was a verbal takedown only, content to watch the flush of excitement color Neil’s pale cheeks and ire flash in his blue eyes, all that wonderful animation brought forth by outrage.

It was going so ‘well’ until a few Breckenridge players stumbled over to them (someone definitely had a flask or bottle stashed somewhere), followed by what appeared to be a few minders. “Dammit, Joe, don’t go-“

Arnolds shook the goalie off of his back as he scowled at Kevin, Moreau and Neil; he seemed oblivious to the flock of Ravens closing in, to Boyd cracking his knuckles. Ever the martyr, Neil grinned at the drunk who had almost a foot on him and well over sixty pounds. “Hi! Here to congratulate us?”

“Listen you little que-“

“Joe, dammit, don’t get us suspended!”

Arnolds made an inarticulate sound while Neil’s smile took on a sharp edge, a hint of the cruel bite he sometimes unleashed, and then Moreau was pulling his idiot partner back while Andrew stepped forward. “We’re going to kick your asses soon enough,” Arnolds bragged as he jabbed his right forefinger at Kevin. “You got lucky this season because of the suspensions, but we’re gonna fuck ya up.”

Kevin sneered at him in that ‘I’m Perfect Court and you’re shit’ way of his (though Andrew supposed it was ‘I’m the queen and you’re shit’ way now). “You’ve yet to get past the death matches, what makes you think you’ll beat us this year?”

“We-“

Neil’s scoff was loud and full of disdain. “You’ve only beat the Foxes in the past because you greatly outnumbered them and they were a disorganized mess. Now they’ve finally got some sort of structure going on to support the fact that they’ve a couple of the best players in the division? You’re fucked.” Behind him, Moreau seemed to be praying for patience – that or for his partner to shut his mouth.

“What do you expect from a bunch of lumbering jackasses who use brute force and childish tricks to stumble their way to the top of the worst district in Class I?” Tollis called out as she gave Arnolds and his crew a look of pure loathing.

“Listen, you uppity bitch,” Roth snapped at her, “you better-“

“I’m the uppity bitch with the stats that put yours to shame,” she told him while almost getting in his face. “And the ERC’s gonna be here any second, so go ahead, do what you do best and call me names _again_. Call all of us those names again, I _dare_ you.”

“Yeah, what were you saying about me just now?” Neil asked Arnolds as his teammates attempted to pull him away, a smile on his lips but his eyes pure ice. “Don’t be shy.”

“Kick your ass,” Arnolds gritted out as he allowed himself to be dragged away, but the words were directed at Kevin. The Breckenridge players held up their hands and shook their heads when Wilds and a couple of ERC officials stalked past them, with one of the ERC officials following them while Wilds continued toward Andrew’s group.

“You guys okay?” Wilds asked; she cast a quick glance over to Bren, who had settled back against the wall once the Breckenridge assholes had left. “Did anything happen?”

“For once, no,” Moreau told her. “It was more bitter griping than anything.”

“Yeah, it’s obvious they’re not used to anyone standing up to them,” Boyd said as he stood next to Kevin. “Or losing. They’re a bunch of assholes.”

“Well, they were told to stay away so they’re a bunch of assholes in trouble,” Wilds said as she glanced at the Ravens as if checking out the players. “I’m glad you didn’t start anything, though.” That seemed directed at Andrew. “We don’t need any excitement tonight.” Then she frowned. “Well, it won’t hurt if you guys have a little fun, though.” When the Ravens merely gazed back at her, she sighed. “That means you can go dance or play a few games or _something_.” There wasn’t any reaction to that, either. “Aw come on, seriously? There’s more to life than Exy, kids!”

“There’s no alcohol here,” Hayes complained.

“There’s more to life than getting drunk,” Wilds snapped.

“It’s not like we can do much without liquor and them messing up a perfectly fine court,” Kevin whined, which made Wilds glare at him as if he was the personification of evil (Andrew would guess that someone wasn’t over finding out that her precious coach had successfully reproduced and his offspring had hidden that fact for several years).

“You’re _not_ helping,” she managed to get out through clenched teeth.

“I’m sure we can start a game up in the parking lot,” Neil suggested. “There should be enough space.”

Kevin perked up at that, along with all of the Ravens. “But what about gear? It’ll be locked up.”

Neil looked over at Andrew and smiled. “ _I bet I get the spares out of the Home locker room first_ ,” he said in German.

Andrew narrowed his eyes at that. “ _What do I get if I win_?”

“ _Uhm… what do you want_?”

“ _Ice cream run, you and me_.” He knew that Bren and Janna came in a separate car, so it would be easy for them to get away from the hotel that way.

“ _Deal_.”

Patel went with him to time how long it took for him to break into the spare equipment room in the Away locker room, where the Spartans kept the older stuff or any equipment the visiting teams might need. “Okay, I’m gonna give you a three second head start,” Patel told him as she pulled out her phone and he reached for his wallet where he kept an ‘emergency’ set of lock picks – because one never knew when they might come in handy.

“Why?” He hadn’t expected her to ‘betray’ Neil like that.

“Oh, I don’t know, even though you never gave me that money maybe I’m getting tired of him crawling out onto roofs to moon over your ass?” Patel sighed as she motioned him toward the locked door. “That and… he has this wistful look on his face anymore when he talks about you. Between that and Crusty freaking out over every little thing Knox says, I’m ready to start drinking.”

Andrew thought about that for a moment before he cleared his mind and nodded to her, then set about breaking into the supply room. It took him a few seconds, but it wasn’t that bad of a lock and soon enough they were inside; Patel grinned as she texted his altered time to Moreau. “Ha! You better bring me back some salted caramel ice cream or something equally good.”

He nodded once as he put away his lock picks then moved to grab a bag so they could gather the gear. “So is Neil figuring stuff out or what?”

“Not quite.” Patel was quiet for a moment and seemed to think about things as she grabbed some kneepads. “Awareness, maybe? He knows you’re important to him, he’s clueing in to what he needs to get him through everything, but right now I’d say in his mind, you’re up there with Jean.” She gave him a sympathetic smile. “Sorry, you rate on the level with a grumpy French bastard.”

Meaning that Andrew was something safe and _platonic_ in Neil’s mind, just like Jean was, probably because of all the distance between them. “Why don’t you rate more?” he asked, since Patel was in such a talkative mood. He knew that Neil had said that ‘she wasn’t interested’ the one time he asked his little bird about the logistics about her rooming with two guys, and Curtis had said something similar, too.

The question made Patel laugh as she tied her bag of gear closed, the sound a bit self-depreciating. “Not enough trauma?” She made it sound like a joke, but there was a hardness to her eyes just then, a tightness to her jaw that put a harsh truth to the words. “I know there’s so much that Neil and Jean share that I never will.” She stared at Andrew for a couple of seconds as if daring him to comment but he merely stared back before grabbing his bag and heading out of the supply room.

“That and… didn’t Neil tell you?” When Andrew gave her another blank look, she made a soft sound in the back of her throat. “Huh, okay. Yeah, I’m not interested in anyone – like, _interested_ ,” she stressed. “I’m not into sex and he’s… well, whatever he is, so I’m like his little sister or something.”

“Asexual,” Andrew told her, “you’re asexual and Neil’s probably demisexual.”

“All right.” Patel continued to stare at him as if seeing a new side to him. “You seem to know a lot about this stuff.”

Because he’d had a lot of time on his hands in juvie and gone through a bit of a freak-out when he’d realized that he was attracted to other boys after everything that Drake and the others had done to him, and thought maybe he could rationalize away that attraction. Hadn’t worked, of course, but he’d learned a good bit about the spectrum of human sexuality, among other things. “I read.”

“Yeah, well, nice to know someone has a clue about things, considering Neil. I love that boy, but what the hell, did his parents home-school him or something? Keep him under a rock most of his life?”

Andrew didn’t answer that question.

Neil wasn’t happy about his ‘loss’ but he got over it when they left the stadium and set up a few cones as impromptu goals out in the parking lot. Bren and Janna tagged along, as did Wilds, Wymack and Abby, and the Ravens split up to make the two teams evens. They had a motley set of gear with racquets, elbow and knee pads and helmets and little else, and the young women didn’t care that they were in dresses (some of them kicked off their heels, some had changed back into their sneakers if they had brought them), then the game started.

Not one to care much for Exy, Andrew had to say it was… interesting. Neil and Kevin were on opposite teams, of course, and clearly enjoyed facing off against each other with Moreau blocking the goal. It was a bit of a free-for-all and a couple of surrounding buses got dented a few times, there were plenty of skinned knees and elbows (Abby was kept busy) and squabbling over if various goals were fair or not. Yet everyone (well, almost everyone) was laughing and having a good time, especially Wymack and Wilds, judging from the way they were grinning from the sidelines with Katelyn cheering. Even Kevin was smiling when he wasn’t yelling at his ‘team’ to bust their asses or arguing that the shot was valid.

They’d been playing for almost an hour when a couple of other coaches tracked them down and put an end to things (something about liability and insurance), and at that point both teams decided to head to the hotel for the night.

They dropped their bags off in their rooms and after Andrew made sure that Kevin was hanging out with Aaron, Nicky and Katelyn, he met up with Neil and Bren in the parking lot; the two were standing by a black Mercedes SUV. "Did you really break in that room in under six seconds?" Neil asked, his blue eyes narrowed with suspicion; he was dressed in one of Moreau's sweatshirts again and track pants.

"That's what Patel said." Andrew gave him a bland look back until Neil glanced away and climbed into the back seat of the SUV, where he joined him. Bren paused while getting into the driver's seat to give Andrew a significant look as if to say 'not too close' but otherwise remained quiet until he started the vehicle and turned on the heat. "All right, there's a grocery store a couple of miles away, that good enough?"

"Go to one a little farther," Andrew told him.

"Then let's hit one of those mega-stores, see if I can't get some of that spicy nut mix in bulk." He grinned back at them through the rear-view mirror. "What? The guys like it on game night. It’s great with beer."

"I feel so safe around you," Neil muttered, but there was a hint of a smile on his lips.

"I don't wanna hear it from someone who climbs out on roofs," Bren shot back, but he was quiet after that.

"So Columbia for a couple of weeks," Neil said after a slight pause. "That'll be nice." While he spoke, his right hand inched over to brush against Andrew's.

"Not really, Erik's coming to visit again." Andrew internally winced at the thought of a loud, horny German stomping around the house for almost two weeks as his fingers entwined with Neil's. "And Aaron's going to Katelyn's for a few days around New Year's." He was still processing that, the fact that his brother was spending part of the holiday away. Bee thought it was an important step for them, that it was a good thing that Aaron had asked Andrew about it rather than just packed his bags and left, but it was a sign that soon enough, their lives would diverge.

Aaron had med school and Katelyn in his future, and Andrew?

He tightened his fingers around Neil's as his little bird gave him a sympathetic glance. "So that leaves you with Day, my condolences. Maybe you should just dump him off at a court somewhere."

"I may inflict him on Wymack to teach the man the follies of unprotected sex," Andrew mused, which earned him a smile. "The man does have twenty some years to make up for, after all."

"Why not? No reason he shouldn't have to deal with a nice healthy dose of trauma like the rest of us." Neil shifted on the seat to better face Andrew and closed his eyes as if he was tired. "And that way you get to spend your time off in bed."

"Of course." Andrew studied how the passing lights of the highway cast shadows on Neil's face, aware of how the images would stay with him forever. "Not all of us are overachievers like you."

Neil snorted at that. "Right. I don't understand why those companies want so many pictures of us."

Because Neil was a gorgeous idiot and Moreau an attractive man, too, and together they were a striking pair. Andrew was certain that people went to the companies' sites regularly to check for new photos of the young men, the images done by professional photographers with them often posed together in what could only be considered a suggestive manner.

Nicky certainly was happy about each new one. Wasn’t it nice that he’d have something so pretty to look at before his gruesome death?

When they reached the large Walmart, Andrew and Neil wandered through the store with a cart which Andrew filled with various snacks and a couple of bottles of alcohol (the benefit of a legal-aged bodyguard) while Bren went off in search of his precious ‘spicy nuts’. “Okay, you call _me_ a ‘little bird’ but I’m beginning to think that you’re half hummingbird or something, considering all the sugar you just picked up,” Neil said with obvious disgust as he eyed the cart’s content.

Andrew gave him a blank look for a couple of seconds before detouring through the clothing section, where he selected a large dark grey hoody with pink cats’ ears. “Happy now?”

“Uhm… are you cold?” Neil asked as he picked at the sleeve of the hoody and rubbed the soft fabric between his fingers.

“It’s for you, idiot,” Andrew said, unwilling to see him in Moreau’s sweatshirts any longer. Patel said something about one of the bodyguards fetching a bunch of new shirts for him… which meant that Ichirou had bought them so never mind – the bastard couldn’t complain too much about this one if Andrew made Bren pay for it.

Neil gave him an incredulous look for a couple of seconds before he turned around and went back to the rack of animal hoodies; by the time Andrew had managed to get the cart turned around as well, the bastard was on his way back with a red fox one in his hands. “Well then, we need this for you, don’t we?” Neil said with a grin.

Andrew gave him a level look before he shrugged; it wasn’t like he’d ever wear the thing. “Ice cream, now.”

That led to more comments about Andrew and his unnatural addiction to sugar when they reached the freezer section; Bren caught up to them before Andrew could shove a smart-mouthed little bird _in_ with the ice cream when Neil took to mocking his affection for double dark chocolate fudge.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Bren asked with a weary sigh as he dumped four large containers of nuts into the cart.

“Cold’s good for muscles,” Andrew stated as he pushed a laughing Neil into a half-empty cooler.

“He may be a little shit but he’s not that small so stop,” Bren ordered. “Can only imagine how much of a pain in the ass he’d be to deal with if he comes down with a real cold.”

Neil held up two fingers in a rude gesture to his friend while Andrew backed away. “I like Janna better,” Neil told Bren as he hopped away from the wall of freezers.

“You and me both, Red.” He grinned at Neil and reached out to tousle his charge’s hair, which made Neil complain and tug up the hood of the overlarge sweatshirt. “Speaking of which, need to get some orange sherbet for her. Anything for Jean?”

“Oh, get some for me, too? And, uhm, some coffee gelato for him.”

Andrew shook his head at the heathens as he grabbed some chunky monkey for Nicky and cherry Garcia for Aaron. He hesitated only a moment before getting the chocolate chip cookie dough for Katelyn just so he didn’t have to hear his brother bitch all weekend.

They picked up some plastic spoons and then checked out, Bren paying cash for everything (more proof that crime did pay, Andrew couldn’t wait to tell Bee that little fun fact) and then returned to campus while Andrew ate one of his pints and Neil had a bit of his sherbet before he dug the cat hoody out of the bag and put it on.

Andrew soaked in that memory, stared long and hard at the sight of Neil Josten sitting within reach while wearing a preposterous cat hoody, his bangs tumbling onto the left side of his face (obscuring the damn ‘4’ tattoo) and a content smile on his lips as he licked at a spoon, pale blue eyes clear of shadows for once. There was such a _strong_ urge to reach out and cup that gorgeous face between Andrew’s palms and pull him in for a kiss, to taste orange tartness on his tongue and feel the satisfied curl of those lips against his own, to soak in the softness and warmth of that hoody while Neil’s body pressed against his own… but Andrew shoved another spoonful of dark chocolate ice cream into his mouth as he stomped on that overbearing want, as he beat down those traitorous emotions.

Bren had said ‘don’t touch’, and Andrew knew the next visit from expensive black cars wouldn’t be so restrained if he gave in to dangerous impulses. Neil was two days away from spending the holiday in New York City, and had enough shit to deal with there without Ichirou being driven into a jealous rage on top of it all.

Before Andrew crossed lines that shouldn’t be crossed, before he broke trust that had been oh so carefully given.

Neil’s smile slipped as the silence stretched out and he gave Andrew a quizzical look, to which Andrew shook his head. “99%.”

“But I didn’t do anything, did I?”

Andrew ignored him and gazed forward instead, and caught Bren glancing at him via the rearview mirror.

He went back to his room once they reached the hotel, where everyone but Kevin was happy about the ice cream and the Exy addict latched on to the alcohol. Andrew threw the fox hoody at Nicky who was only too happy to wear it.

If he had a good bit of alcohol with his ice cream… well, it was a banquet, wasn’t it?

He met up with Neil for brunch the next morning, his crew of ‘monsters’ and Neil’s flock of birdies, and watched the apprehension grow in his friend as Andrew remained quiet and distant. Patel and Moreau gave him several confused looks, as did Nicky and Katelyn, but Andrew felt a wall between him and Neil, a wall of repercussions and frustration and twisted self-preservation (self-recrimination).

Did Andrew think he was ever going to get anywhere with Neil? That anything would happen between them? He’d give Neil whatever support he could, but the simple truth of it was, Neil was too far out of reach, perched in a cage gilded with gold and barbed wire and Andrew’s fucked-up wants.

“Wake up on the wrong side of the bed or what?” Patel asked him as the Spartans tried to get the other teams to join in on caroling.

“No,” Andrew told her as he lit a cigarette, the stadium’s ‘no smoking’ policy be damned.

She stood there as if waiting for more of an explanation than that then scoffed. “Seriously? Do you like jerking people around? No wonder the poor kid hasn’t figured things out yet, and now I’m hoping he won’t. He doesn’t deserve an asshole like you, monkey-fucker.” She flipped him off as she stalked away.

No, Neil didn’t deserve someone like Andrew, all messed-up and broken, he deserved someone who didn’t get all twisted up inside at the thought of a simple kiss or smile. Someone who could see a way out of this whole nightmare Neil was in other than going to New York and stabbing Ichirou Moriyama to death.

Andrew was supposed to be clever, supposed to be smart, but Neil reduced him to such base, simple emotions with ease. That was something Andrew couldn’t allow, not when he needed to think around Neil, to keep his wits about him for both of their sakes.

A certain little bird was never going to be free if Andrew got himself killed in the process of opening the cage... and it wasn’t worth prying open that gilded door if Andrew crushed those fragile wings himself.

Still, he swung by as the Ravens were headed to their buses to go back to West Virginia (the Foxes not far behind in leaving) and ignored Moreau’s chilly glare to tap on Neil’s shoulder then shove one of the bags of bite-sized candy bars he’d ‘bought’ at the store the night before in the idiot’s hands. “Here, a little snack for the road.”

Neil blinked in surprise, his body tense for a moment before he seemed to realize that it was Andrew touching him, then frowned when he took in the bag. “But I don’t like chocolate.”

Patel snatched it away while the one striker, Tollis, cheered her on. “More for us to share!”

“You’re a freak, Josten,” Andrew said as he walked away, and told himself there was no need for such a reaction just because a too-pretty little bird smiled and wished him ‘happy holidays’.

It was a mostly usual winter break; there was a package from Renee, all the way from France where she was spending the holidays with Reynolds – some hand-knitted scarves and hats for everyone (black for Andrew, Aaron and Kevin, bright purple for Nicky and peach for Katelyn), along with alcohol-filled chocolates (and a note from Reynolds saying ‘you’re welcome, monsters’) that even Kevin ate. There was a beaming, loud Erik stomping around the house with a laughing Nicky at his side when they weren’t in Nicky’s room (Andrew spent a lot of time up in _his_ room). There were a couple of days at Abby’s house for Christmas Eve and Christmas, where they did a few chores in return for a mostly decent meal (Erik and Nicky made the desserts), while Wymack and Kevin were often huddled quietly together.

There were a few texts from Neil, a few pictures posted online; he spent the holiday with his uncle and Moreau, and the rest of the time posing for photos or smiling in front of a camera when not running around the city or dealing with Ichirou. Patel arrived the second half of the break and there were more pictures taken, along with some cryptic comments about them being ‘partners ‘til the end’ and ‘birds of a feather’ (how original).

It was on New Year’s Eve when that last became clear, when Marley wore a one-sleeved, glittering black dress and Morea and Neil let their dress shirts (dark grey and pale blue respectively) fall just enough to reveal bits of what were raven tattoos on each of their right shoulders (Andrew imagined that it was difficult to show all of it with their scars). Each one was different, but it was obvious that the teammates had gotten them over the break, had gotten them as a sign of unity, of fraternity.

They were Ravens in body and mind and everyone else wasn’t, the photo seemed to say.

Andrew waited until he was back on campus and up on the roof to ‘ask’ Neil about the damn thing. “Why?”

As expected, Neil was worn out from his supposed break. “It was Marley’s idea, she wanted something… I don’t know, it was after Jean signed the contract,” he said, his voice so soft and broken. “All I could think about was him leaving in a few more months and she started going on about us getting matching tattoos, about us doing something as partners. So we said ‘yes’.”

He’d said yes to a fucking raven on his shoulder. “Who did it?”

There as a slight pause before Neil sighed. “One of Ichirou’s men.”

Andrew flung the cigarette into the air because it was something he _could_ throw. “You have a yakuza tattoo on you.” There hadn’t been enough detail in the picture, just a splash of black and grey and white because of Neil trying to hide his scars, but now he knew for certain.

“It’s the style these days,” Neil argued. “And it’s not a yakuza tattoo, not really. I mean, it’s just the shoulder and a bit of my arm, just a raven and… it looks nice,” he finished weakly. “It hides some scars.”

Great, so Neil minimized a few scars and got branded even more in the process. “Do you not see what’s wrong with this?”

“Do you not see that I don’t care?” Neil shot back. “I’m a Raven, I’m always going to be a Raven, I’ll always be ‘4’ just like Jean will be ‘3’. We didn’t ask for this but it’s all we have so what’s wrong with showing each other that we’re not alone, dammit!”

For once Andrew didn’t have anything to say; it wasn’t that he chose to be quiet, it was that there wasn’t any biting or laconic remark to make, no point to make.

It might be that Knox wanted to be there for Moreau, but the former Trojan had no idea of what all was going on in the backliner’s life, on how Moreau would never be entirely free. Andrew had the knowledge but didn’t have the means (yet) to free Neil. “What did I say about not doing anything stupid?” he settled on after a terse minute or two.

“It’s not stupid,” Neil mumbled. “The rest of the Ravens are talking about getting one now, how it’ll be a thing before they graduate.”

“You’re in a damn cult, you idiot,” Andrew said before he hung up.

The worst part? The Ravens’ fans _loved_ the damn tattoos.

Nicky nearly lost an internal organ when he brought up how they should get matching fox tattoos before Kevin graduated.

Bee’s gaze was critical over the rim of her mug as Andrew sat in one of their private sessions at the start of the semester. “You seem… unduly tense. I thought it was a good break.”

“Kevin whining about Exy practice, Erik and Nicky making out all over the place and Aaron counting down the days until he could go play with his little cheerleader? Yes, wonderful,” Andrew remarked in a flat manner before he blew on his mug of hot chocolate. Why was there never any alcohol in Bee’s office? Whiskey was great for therapy, in his opinion.

“As I said, a good break.”

And some people thought that Bee was a funny person.

She gave him a minute to sip his drink before she tried again. “What about Neil?”

“And there we have it, the million-dollar question.” Andrew set his mug aside and folded his arms over his chest, his fingertips pressed against his armbands. “What _about_ the little masochist?”

Bee winced, the expression slight but noticeable. “What did he do now?” Andrew hesitated only for a moment but she caught it. “Or… what did you do? Hmm? What do you _think_ you did?”

People thought that Bee was a helpless, friendly woman, too.

“For the first part, he went and had a stupid black bird inked onto his skin because of peer pressure.”

“Well, there’s something to be said for a sense of belonging to something, and the Ravens on the whole have a very strong team identity.” Andrew felt like stabbing at his eardrums while Bee prattled on about the Ravens and their various psychoses as well as people doing dumb shit because of sports and the social bonding aspect of tattoos and… did she ever listen to herself? “That’s not what you want to hear, though, is it?”

Andrew gave her a bland look before he clicked his tongue. “He’s an idiot.”

“He’s young, it’s a prerequisite.” Bee smiled before her expression turned serious. “Now then, what do you think it is that you did?”

Oh, _that_. Andrew’s fingers dug into the thick, stiff cloth of his armbands as he forced the words past a throat gone dry and tight. “How am I supposed to save him when I might be the biggest monster in his life?” When Andrew _wanted_ so badly in regards to Neil – wanted to grab him and pull him near and never let him go.

For a moment Bee appeared confused, but it didn’t take her long to put things together (it never did), not when she knew Andrew’s past and had an idea about Neil’s after last summer. “Oh, Andrew,” she said in a shattered voice as she set her mug aside then leaned forward with her hands clasped between her lap. “You… you wouldn’t. Trust me, you wouldn’t.”

“I can’t know that,” he admitted. “No one can.” He hesitated again. “ _They_ didn’t stop.”

“Not true.” She shook her head as the words rushed out and cut off any attempt he made to argue. “I know that because if you were like _them_ , you wouldn’t be sitting here worrying about this, wouldn’t be beating yourself up over it. You wouldn’t go through so much effort to protect Aaron and Kevin, to try so much with Neil.” She looked him in the eye and wouldn’t glance away. “You wouldn’t be sitting here trying to make things better.”

“It gets me out of practice early,” he argued, unable to put full trust in her words even if she was Bee.

“You’d just leave if you wanted,” she countered with a slight smile. “Andrew… I’ve known you for a few years now and I can honestly say that you’re not someone who could hurt another person _that_ way.” When he scoffed out loud, she held up her right hand. “You can beat them up without care and your actions can be down-right draconic if you feel they’re a threat to someone under your protection, but you have lines that you won’t cross. This is one of them.”

He considered that, considered _Neil_. “There hasn’t been anyone like him before.” No one who mattered to Andrew like him, not in _that_ way.

“It doesn’t change things, but if it makes you feel better, we can work on it, figure out something that’ll make you feel… more in charge when the time comes,” she offered.

That made him scoff again. “As if that’ll ever happen.” Not with Bren always around, with Neil oblivious (intentional or not) and Ichirou so possessive.

“A couple of years ago you would have said that you’d never be interested in someone like this,” Bee reminded him. “Now you are. Change is constant, Andrew, so either move with it or be an even grumpier bastard with no clue what the hell is going on.”

It wasn’t often that Bee swore like that, but when she did it usually paid to go along with whatever she wanted with just a little complaint. So Andrew grumbled beneath his breath as he grabbed his mug and gave her a cool look, which she accepted, and sat there while she discussed options.

*******

Neil finished translating the documents from Russian to Japanese and saved the file. Bren noticed him fall back in the padded leather chair and looked up from his phone. “All done?”

“Yeah.” Neil shut down the laptop (he supposed it was a show of trust that Ichirou allowed him in the office and to use the device without supervision – Bren didn’t count when he sat across the room and didn’t pay much attention) then stood up with a slight groan from sitting for so long; the Ravens might not be playing every week since it was championship season, but the practices were still intense. “What’s happening on campus?”

“Bunch of pep rallies, some theater students are dressing as cats and letting other students chase them around, stuff like that.” Bren shook his head. “Look, think it’s obvious that I never went to uni, but really? These Yanks can’t think of anything better to do with their time than this?”

“You’re asking the wrong person,” Neil told him as he motioned to the mansion around them to indicate that he wasn’t exactly getting a ‘normal’ university experience himself. “At least Jean and Marley didn’t miss that.” His partners had returned with Noguchi that morning from one last recruiting trip – normally it was Neil and Jean, but with Ichirou in town, Marley had stepped in since she’d be next year’s vice-captain.

It was the end of March and it was the last round before the semi-finals; the Ravens were expected to take out Penn State which would leave them, the Trojans and the Foxes as the final three teams. Considering that the Trojans had actually lost a game the other week (to Notre Dame – Jean had taken great delight in mocking Knox about it), the odds favored the Ravens facing off against the Foxes at the end of April.

Neil tugged on the platinum medallion around his neck as he thought about that, about facing Andrew on the court in a few more weeks. His friend had been decidedly odd ever since the Winter banquet, had been a little distant yet he still kept calling to talk to Neil, kept texting and berating him about doing stupid things (like the tattoo).

Neil didn’t understand it (not really). They were friends (not really), were two people tied together by overlapping obligations (Kevin Day, the Moriyamas, Exy), but at some point Andrew could be free of it all. Day graduated in a few more weeks, too, had signed with the Houston Sirens (Marley had ranted for days over that fact, about Day being on the same team as her ‘goddess’ Thea Muldani) and by all signs should do well enough in the pros to appease Ichirou. There wasn’t much Andrew could do when Day traveled the country (and probably the world since word was he’d soon make Court again) while Andrew was stuck in the Class I division for another year, and the Sirens already had two good goalkeepers.

In another year it would be Andrew’s turn to move on, to either join the pros or just… just fuck off, as Neil half-expected him to do, considering his apathy toward Exy. Do something with that criminology degree (what the hell) or find a job as quality control in a damn chocolate factory (that was a thing, right?).

Neil’s mother had been correct, he never should have stopped running, never should have stayed in one place or let himself be ‘Neil’ for too long. Now he was trapped and had too many attachments, too many debts and obligations, too many ways to bleed out.

“Hey, you all right?” Bren asked as they approached the main part of the house. “I know that some of the stuff you read isn’t always fun, but-“

“I’m fine,” Neil assured his friend. “Just thinking about the end of the semester.”

“Oh.” Bren gave him a careful pat on the back. “Well, if you need help with any classes, don’t ask me.”

“Yeah, I know that already.” Neil smiled as he was lightly smacked on the back of his head and called a cheeky little shit, the expression slipping as they entered the one sitting room where Ichirou was waiting. He gave them a curious look over Bren’s antics.

“I turned down Bren’s improbable offer of tutoring,” Neil explained.

“I would hope you didn’t need any,” Ichirou said as he set aside the tablet in his hand. “All done?” He motioned for Neil to come closer and, without any obvious hesitation, Neil settled on his lap.

“ _Yes. The files are saved on your hard drive_.” Neil wrapped his arms around Ichirou’s shoulders and forced himself to smile when Bren and Kaito left the room. “ _Is the deal all done with Reardan_?”

“ _Yes, he’ll be working with Santiago for a few weeks_.” Ichirou appeared thoughtful while his hands roamed beneath Neil’s lightweight sweater to stroke along his back. “ _It was down to him and Cabrera, but Santiago’s been with the organization longer_.”

“ _Santiago’s better anyway, he’s very level-headed_.” And he didn’t look at Neil as if he was something to be dissected.

“Hmm.” Ichirou tugged Neil’s hips closer. “ _I agree_.” His hand slid beneath the back of Neil’s pants as he shifted forward for a kiss.

Neil blanked his mind as much as possible while still able to react, at least assured that it was a ‘good day’, that Ichirou was in an affectionate mood. He assisted in removing his own clothes, in undoing his lord’s shirt and pants, and eventually sunk down on Ichirou’s cock with a sigh of resignation which turned into a gasp as his hips were grabbed and he was pulled down a little more.

Ichirou murmured appreciations against his skin as he was fucked, lips smooth against his neck and tattooed shoulder as deep and steady thrusts rocked into him, as Neil combed his fingers through black hair and closed his eyes and moaned out his lord’s name again and again. He let the steady build-up of pleasure wash through him, eager for it to reach its height and crash, for things to end, for Ichirou to be satisfied (for the moment) and them to wash off then have dinner so he could go back to campus and-

And Ichirou pulled on his hips a little more, which made Neil cry out as the pleasure spiked even brighter, as it coiled tighter inside of him and his hands fumbled for his lover’s shoulders; Ichirou chuckled as he nipped at Neil’s chin then kissed him while Neil gasped and shuddered, as he tried to say his lord’s name while those hard thrusts broke him apart until he came.

He was still shivering when Ichirou came, hands tight enough on his hips to bruise and face buried in Neil’s neck. Neil stroked his numb fingers through Ichirou’s hair until his lord looked up and kissed him on the lips. “ _Hmm, you’ve made me a mess_.”

“ _Why is it always my fault_?” Neil wrinkled his nose as he rose up a little on his knees, enough for Ichirou to slip out of him.

“ _Who else am I doing this with_?” Ichirou laughed when Neil pulled on a thoughtful expression. “ _Do **not** say anything, Nathaniel_.” He gave Neil a soft slap on the ass before Neil managed to stand on weak legs.

Neil supposed that, all in all, it wasn’t so bad, what he had with Ichirou. True, the more difficult times would return eventually, the times when things got rough in more than one sense of the word, but he was used to that, could adapt and deal with it until it passed. He didn’t know why his lord seemed to bear some affection for him (as if he was a pet?), but Ichirou preferred him to be ‘happy’.

Some facsimile of happy.

Obedient and responsive and productive and cheerful.

It could be worse.

Neil slumped in the seat of the SUV once they left the mansion, exhausted and well aware that Ichirou would be back on Friday for the game with Penn State. Bren made a bunch of idle talk which he didn’t have to answer on their way to campus, and at least they were going to the Nest and not the house for once.

Neil stood under the shower (his third one of the day) until he couldn’t breathe because of all the hot air and Jean dragged him out, then tucked him into bed once he was dressed in the cat hoody and sweatpants. He still had some homework to do and should text Andrew… but he was so tired right then that he could barely hold the cup of tea and drink it down.

Being next to Jean helped, feeling his friend’s warmth and hearing his deep, accented voice as he and Marley talked about finally getting Novice to sign (the girl’s parents had been wary for obvious reasons). He fell asleep tucked next to Jean, secure for the time being that his friend was there and safe and able to watch over him.

The next morning was practice and classes (and finding out that Marley and Brian had helped by doing a lot of his unfinished homework), being out on a campus excited about another championship title. It was more than the attention and money that the win would bring to Edgar Allan, it was proving to all the bastards who’d trashed the players and the school because of the scandal the past summer that the Ravens were still the best, that they weren’t weak or broken.

Which meant dealing with Murray, who hadn’t given up on the team despite very few players taking him seriously. Neil spent most of his time talking about various teams’ statistics or analyzing the plot of whatever inane movie that Dan or Marley had made him watch the week before, but never about anything personal.

“Only you would be proud of breaking a shrink,” Andrew said during one of their calls.

"I like to think of it as reaffirming his belief in his chosen profession," Neil stated, which earned an amused chuff from Bren. "I do have to give him credit for his determination."

"He's probably dreaming of the day when he can sign off on locking you up."

"Hmm, there is that." Neil wondered if he'd end up in the same place as Riko... and knew that as long as he could still play Exy, he'd be propped up and shoved out onto court with a racquet in his hands.

"So, did that one girl finally sign?" he asked in a not too subtle way to change the topic. "We finally got all of our new recruits, what about the Foxes?" Andrew had mentioned something about having a pick of his own, which had surprised Neil considering how little interest his friend had in the sport.

"Yes." Andrew paused to exhale then clicked his tongue. "Took her time with the offer which pissed off Kevin since he had his own thoughts on the goalie recruit, but she finally came through."

"He's not going to be there and it's your position, you should be the one having the most say in this anyway." Neil and Jean might be the team's 'captains', but they and the staff checked with the other players about the final picks before they set out with the offers - at least, now that Noguchi took over. The Ravens functioned best because of the team cohesion, after all.

"He's still the great Kevin Day, son of Exy and queen extraordinaire," Andrew quipped with a rare hint of amusement in his voice. "He knows best or thinks he does."

"Right, how foolish of me." Neil shared a grin with Bren while his friend made a rude gesture with his left hand. "Thea's gonna have fun smacking him down soon enough."

"Come June he's officially her headache, not mine." Andrew didn't sound too upset about that, so Neil dared to ask the question that had been on his mind lately.

"Does that bother you? I mean... you've looked after him for the last few years and everything. Was it worth it?" He never did find out what exactly Andrew got out of that deal - when was the last time they'd traded a truth for a truth? When had that stopped?

It was about a minute before Andrew responded, as if he needed the time to think about the answer. "I kept my end of the bargain. Riko's no longer a threat to Kevin and he feels that things are settled with Ichirou." There was no mention of Tetsuji because they both knew the 'Master' wouldn't live past the end of the year, not with the way that the press and ERC kept clamoring for him to return to the States. "He has his precious stickball back and that's all that matters."

“And what about you?” Neil pushed.

There was another pause over the line. “It seems he held up his end of the bargain after all, just not how I expected.”

“Okay.” Neil slumped back on the couch at that response. “Good.”

“What, were you gonna take care of him like you did Gordon if I said ‘no’?” Andrew sounded curious so Neil answered the question.

“Uhm, if you wanted? I mean, you seem the type to handle that stuff yourself, but… would you want me to have my uncle take care of Day if he was a problem?” Over by the bar, Bren nearly spilled his precious whisky while he gaped at Neil – well, probably more over the topic.

Andrew clicked his tongue in disgust. “I can handle Kevin on my own, but so nice to know you’d offer up your family’s services like that to me.”

“You’re welcome,” Neil said with a slight smile. “Just for you, it’ll be the special lazy goth discount.”

“Be sure to come close enough to my goal so I can smack that empty head of yours with my stick,” Andrew ‘asked’ before he hung up.

“The two of you need to grow up and talk to each other like adults,” Bren complained after he finished his drink.

“We talk to each other just fine,” Neil insisted as he stood up so they could return to the Nest.

“Right, exchanging insults and threats, perfectly natural.” Bren shook his head as he closed the door behind them. “Real mature.”

But it had always been that way between Neil and Andrew so why risk changing it? Neil tugged on the cuffs of his worn sweatshirt as he thought about Andrew graduating and doing whatever he wanted, be it following Day or his brother or something new entirely, and knew that he had no right to ask anything of his friend.

They’d made a deal to keep Kevin Day safe, so would there even be anything between them after the season was over? Should Neil even want there to be when it was so much better, so much _safer_ , for Andrew to distance himself from anything Moriyama related?

It was the perfect opportunity for Andrew to get away from the world that Neil and his mother had attempted to run from (and failed), that Neil would give anything to be free of, so why not take it? What did Andrew get out of talking to Neil all of the time?

As much as it would hurt to lose Andrew (a year early, the same time as Jean)… Neil would rather his friend be safe and content. It was _his_ dream, after all, to play together in the pros, not Andrew’s. _He_ was the Exy junky, the one who loved the sport despite Riko and Tetsuji and everything else. Andrew had only ever played it out of obligation and limited choices.

Perhaps Andrew thought much the same, which explained why he’d been a little distant, a little ‘off’ since the Winter banquet.

The Ravens played Penn State at a home game that Friday, one where the Nittany Lions kept the perverse comments to a low mutter (but still made them) and the rough holds and checks just shy of being called for red cards. Neil and his teammates smiled at the attempts to hurt them, to make them falter and fall and snatched away the ball to score yet another point.

He made several remarks during the post-game interview about what a shame it was, Penn State falling so far in just a few years, but at least the Foxes were proving a worthy replacement.

Then it was up in the East Tower again, more smiling and nodding his head as Ichirou’s guests (the Russian contingent that time) patted him on the back about a good game (but still not soccer). Neil fought not to twitch at each touch, to not reach for his knife and was actually grateful when they left, when he was alone with Ichirou. _That_ was something he was used to by then, was something he could quantify and predict.

Neil lost a little time in the shower that night; one minute he was combing his fingers through his hair and the next he was huddled in the corner with a soaked Jean crouched in front of him, expression grim and hands hovering near his knees as if uncertain if it was all right to touch. That meant Neil was wrapped in layers and had tea all but poured down his throat, and after practice the next day dragged off to Dan’s for another ‘movie’ night (Matt wasn’t there because of the teams waiting to find out the play-off schedule).

Dan had trays of sushi and fruit on the coffee table so they (Neil) could nibble as they watched a bunch of cartoons (anime), movies that actually weren’t bad (not a bunch of actors he didn’t know, a bunch of unrealistic car chases and fight scenes and things like that… or worse, sex scenes). It was him tucked against Jean’s side with Marley’s obnoxiously long legs draped across their laps, was him surrounded by friends – it was a good night.

Neil savored it since he knew there weren’t many like it left.

The Trojans flew to PSU to play the Foxes that Friday, with the Ravens gathering together once again to watch their rivals’ meet out on court (Jean exchanged texts with Knox during the game). That time the Foxes won without any ‘hand-outs’ – they were still the smaller team, but USC’s new captain, Flores, just didn’t have the same ability as Knox, nor did some of the other players now elevated into starter positions.

The Foxes didn’t win by much, but they still won.

“Day must be unbearable right now,” Neil said when he talked to Andrew the next day.

“It’s one of his dreams come true, even if Knox wasn’t on the line-up. Now to beat some birdies and he can die happy.”

“Such a shame, that never happening.”

“Pride goes before the fall, or so they say.”

“That seems rather biblical for you,” Neil remarked. “But then again, you’re from the South.” That earned him a rant (as much as Andrew ever ‘ranted’) about how Andrew was not and never would be ‘from the South’ which lasted about a good five minutes (it was rather amusing, all in all), before Neil let him go – it seemed Andrew and his family weren’t done ‘celebrating’ their victory that weekend (or at least Andrew’s family and Day weren’t, and Andrew wasn’t going to pass on the chance to drink).

They’d see each other next week, after all.

Photographers came to Evermore to take pictures of Jean, Neil, Marley and most of the starting players - some for endorsement deals and some for publicity – along with a few reporters for various sports magazines and programs. It was a busy week and things wouldn’t slow down until the championship game, and there was a lot of focus on Jean graduating. He was the ‘first’ of the Perfect Court to do so, after Riko’s death and Day’s defection, and the fans were eager to see what happened with Riko’s little ‘experiment’.

Especially after the summer’s big ‘revelation’.

It made Neil want to scream in denial over what was happening, the changes that were coming without his consent (Jean leaving, him becoming the team’s captain, Andrew), but Jean had to deal with it, too; Jean would be leaving the Nest for good, would be living on his own for the first time in almost ten years, wouldn’t have a partner by his side while he dealt with a new team.

Despite his own issues and fears, Neil pushed everything aside and did his best to assure his partner and friend, to soothe Jean’s fears (and nightmares) and point out how he was one of the best backliners in the sport, how Ichirou would look out for him (how the Hatfords would look out for him) and how there was an annoying striker out there to keep him company.

“ _At the least, I’m spared having to deal with a certain British devil all the time_ ,” Jean said on the drive to Palmetto State.

“ _Marley and I plan to call you every day_ ,” Neil promised.

“ _Ooh, yes, face-time even! You know you’ll miss us_!” Marley said as she leaned over the back of the bus seat.

Jean gave them both a haughty look. “ _Such a shame, when my phone breaks_.”

Yet Neil knew his friend was happy about them promising (threatening) to keep in touch.

It was another trip scheduled to New York after the game (supposedly to look at apartments for Jean and him, since they’d be living together once Neil graduated), so Andrew met up with Neil (and Bren) once again in the Away tunnel. Neil gave him a nervous smile, uncertain if Andrew would remain so distant with him.

“You get any more stupid tattoos lately?”

“No,” Neil sighed. “Are you going to bitch about it forever?”

Andrew seemed to consider it while he smoked a cigarette. “Maybe.”

“Avery, Ben and the rest of the graduating seniors all got one, just like they said.” Neil rubbed at his right shoulder, at the design which Ichirou had picked out; he liked the flying raven and was happy that it mostly hid the iron scar on his shoulder, and was proud to share something with his fellow teammates. What was the big deal when a lot of athletes had tattoos those days?

“No, I’m not getting into this today.” Andrew shook his head as he stared at Neil. “You look as if you didn’t get much sleep.”

Neil gave a slight shrug. “A lot of things going on.”

That flippant answer made Andrew’s hazel eyes narrow. “Such as? Chirp chirp.”

“No.” It was Neil’s turn to shake his head. “What does it matter to you? This is… this is all coming to an end, right? Day’s graduating so what’s the use? Now’s a good time to just walk aw-“ Neil’s breath caught in his throat as Andrew’s fist grabbed the front of his jersey and he was jerked forward, was pulled toward his friend.

“Minyard, let him go!”

Both he and Andrew threw out a hand to make Bren stop, to keep the bodyguard from interfering. “It’s all right,” Neil said while Andrew gritted out “I won’t hurt him”.

Neil gazed at Bren until his friend backed down, an unhappy look on his face. “Cool it, Minyard.”

“I’m just gonna shake the stupid out of him.”

“Then I’ll break your neck.”

“Andrew,” Neil forced out in a more or less even manner. “That’s not helping.” He hesitated a moment before he settled his hand on top of the one tangled in his jersey. “ _What’s wrong_?” he asked in German.

Andrew gazed at him as if he was insane. “ _You think I’m going to just ‘walk away’? After all of this_?” He gave a slight tug to the shirt to punctuate his words.

Neil bit into his bottom lip for a moment before he drew in a sharp breath. “ _Isn’t that what you want? To end things now that Day is- what_?” He glared when Andrew shook him again.

“ _What **I** want_?” Andrew closed his eyes for a moment as if gathering his thoughts – or his strength. “ _I want you free and clear of the Moriyamas. I want…._ ” He stared at Neil with such an intensity, such a heat that Neil felt his cheeks grow warm and the breath catch in his throat yet he wasn’t alarmed by it, he wasn’t afraid at all – because it was _Andrew_. “ _I want things I can’t have right now, but I’m not walking away, dammit. Are you_?”

“ _No_ ,” Neil managed to stammer out. “ _I’m not_.” He wasn’t entirely sure about everything that Andrew had just said (that was a lie), but he wasn’t walking away. Not from _Andrew_.

They continued to stare at each other, so close yet unable to bridge that final distance, until Bren cleared his throat. “Minyard!”

“You’re a pain in the ass,” Andrew snarled as he let go of Neil’s jersey, which made Neil slump back against the wall. “Look, he’s fine. An idiot, but fine.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Neil agreed as he struggled to stand up straight.

Bren appeared about three seconds from pulling out a gun or a flask, one of the two. “He’s never _fine_ ,” he mumbled as he wiped at his brow instead. “Don’t you have a stupid game to play?”

Neil glared at the ‘stupid’ comment while Andrew gave Bren a two-fingered salute before sauntering away. As soon as he was gone, Bren did pull out the flask. “Look, Red, I’m not your… I’m not Stuart or anything, but I just gotta warn you, you’re playing with fire there. Make sure it’s worth it, okay?”

Neil accepted the flask with a grateful smile. “It’s Andrew,” was all he said, but judging from Bren’s wan smile, his friend understood.

He only had a quick nip of whisky and didn’t say anything when Bren drained the rest of the flask.

The game was rough and a test of the Ravens; they relied a good bit on the sophomores and even pulled a couple of the freshmen in since they would lose several seniors in a few weeks, but the team held fast against the determined Foxes. Neil looked forward to next year when he would only have to deal with Andrew in the goal as opposed to Matt and Day on the court as well, and knew that the Foxes were the team to beat as opposed to the Trojans (for once).

Still, the Ravens did beat them, and realized that they’d have to bring their all if (when) they faced off in a couple of weeks. Andrew continued to learn how to block Neil and the others, which meant they had to come up with new ways to get around him, but he was only in the goal for half the game. Day was a brilliant striker, but the others weren’t up to his level and could be goaded to make mistakes. Matt was the best backliner the Foxes had, which meant that there was still half a court open to exploit the rest of the time (at least).

All the Ravens needed was the slightest opening and they would make the best of it.

Neil looked forward to facing the team in the final game of the season.

The high from the game quickly faded on the flight to New York City, on finding himself back in what was becoming ‘his’ suite in the Lowell (what happened next year? Would Ichirou find another room for him when he was there without Jean?).  He soaked in the tub while Jean and Bren enjoyed their drinks out on the balcony, then got some sleep.

For once there wasn’t some stupid marketing campaign, though they did have an interview to do before Bren took them to a fancy apartment building on the West Side, close to Central Park. Neil was ready to hyperventilate over the price tag (most of Jean’s salary was going back to Ichirou, after all, even if he’d built up a nice savings account the last couple of years due to the small amount they’d earned from their endorsements – all thanks to Stuart) before Bren made a comment about Ichirou owning the building.

In other words, they were once more being kept by the family, but Neil didn’t care if it meant that Ichirou was footing the bill (or most of the bill). Jean didn’t seem to care, either, so all they did was insist on a three bedroom apartment; that way they each had their own room (even if they were used to sharing the same one, the same bed) and a spare for Marley or any other friends who might visit (such as a certain ex-Trojan).

Ichirou didn’t complain about their request (even though Neil was certain the place had to cost _at least_ several thousands of dollars a month after checking out the view and features and new appliances and… it had to cost a _lot_ ), appeared to be pleased with the separate bedrooms and them planning for the long term.

“ _You don’t seem that excited_ ,” Ichirou said while Neil poked at his dinner. “ _Was something wrong with the apartment?_ ”

Other than it would be a place where Jean stayed while Neil was stuck in the Nest? Neil forced a smile on his face (not one of his best) as he set his chopsticks aside. “ _It’s just… Jean will be all alone in it_ ,” he admitted. “ _He’ll be here when he’s not traveling while I finish up at Edgar Allan_.”

Ichirou’s worried expression smoothed out as he beckoned Neil to come over and perch in his lap, then ran his fingers through Neil’s hair. “ _Ah Nathaniel, ever concerned about your friends_.” He brushed his thumb over the ‘4’ tattoo while he smiled, the expression oddly tender. “ _Jean will have one of your uncle’s people watching over him, and there’s other Ravens on the team_.” For a moment something dark flickered over Ichirou’s face. “ _None of Riko’s people, so he’ll be all right, and you’ll visit whenever possible_.”

Whenever Neil and Jean’s schedule matched up, which wouldn’t be that often, really. “ _Thank you_ ,” Neil breathed out as he draped his arms over Ichirou’s shoulders; he knew that his lord was doing his best to reassure him, which was more than most people had ever done for him.

“ _Is that all_?”

Mindful of his promise to not lie, Neil gave a faint shrug. “ _I’ll be happier when we win the championship title this year._ ” He didn’t say anything about Andrew – that wasn’t a lie, it was an omission.

“ _You’ll do well, you always do_.” Ichirou nuzzled Neil’s chin before leaning in for a kiss, and that was enough talking for the time being.

As he scrubbed himself clean in the shower later that night, Neil found himself wondering what it would be like, having Andrew as a lover. The thought made him go still, made him hate himself a little (a lot – why would he drag Andrew into… into what he had with _Ichirou_?) but still….

Some part of him thought that he wouldn’t dislike it, if it was it was with Andrew.

He had to push such thoughts out of his mind before he talked to his friend (because those things would never happen) or else Andrew would notice, the clever bastard that he was. It was difficult enough to think of their last conversation together, of that ‘wanting things he couldn’t have’ and all.

That seemed to be a common theme in both of their lives.

The Ravens flew out to California to face off against the Trojans, and it didn’t seem the same without Jeremy Knox bounding toward them with an obnoxious grin on his face to fawn all over Jean. Flores was a decent captain, but she wasn’t in Knox’s league – at least not yet.

Perhaps it was the reason why the Ravens had never won the Kayleigh Day Spirit Award, but they didn’t take it easy on the Trojans as the other team adjusted to their new captain and roster – after all, no one had ever taken it easy on them, right? Everyone (or almost everyone) had sought to tear them down, to go after their weak spots, so it was only right that they did the same.

It was what Neil’s parents had taught him time and time again; do whatever was necessary to survive, to rip into the soft underbelly and take advantage of anything that would be of use if it meant he could survive a little longer.

The Ravens’ win over the Trojans meant that there was a two week break before the Foxes arrived at Edgar Allan, two weeks where Neil and his friends were to finish their classes for the semester and deal with the media while some of them prepared to move on to their professional careers.

Two weeks when Neil and Marley worked on calming Jean’s fears; their friend was facing the realization that he was leaving them, was going off on his own after one last game that he _had_ to win. Neil spoke to his uncle and Declan would be assigned to New York to watch over Jean, a familiar presence in the city to help him adjust to everything, and Knox called almost every day (as much as his own training and game schedule allowed). Knox even offered to take a couple of weeks during his summer break to come to New York City to ‘hang out’ with Jean so he wouldn’t be alone.

“It’ll be fun! I haven’t spent much time there and you should know it well by now, right?” Knox sounded eager as he spoke about the idea. “Laila keeps getting on me about how I need a bit of culture so we could catch some shows, maybe? I mean, it’s up to you, I don’t want to impose or anything….”

“ _Tell him ‘yes’_.” Neil poked his friend in the side while Marley nodded and waved her hands about in the air. “ _You know we’ll be busy with the freshmen so tell him ‘ **yes’**_.”

By that point Knox was used to all of their asides in other languages so just waited patiently for the discussion to be finished on the other end of the line. “ _But won’t he get bored with me after a few days? Two weeks seems too long_ ,” Jean admitted in a rare show of anxiety.

“Oh for-“ Marley made to snatch at the phone but Jean was too quick for her. “ _It’s **Surfer boy**! He’s going to be a big, happy puppy the entire time, eager to do whatever you want and grateful for every moment, and if it gets to be too much just have Declan smack him on the nose with a rolled-up newspaper. Say ‘ **yes** ’_!”

Jean gave her a haughty look before he sniffed in disdain. “ _You need to be kept away from all men, little flea_ ,” was all he said before he resumed talking to Knox and made the striker very happy by finally saying ‘yes’.

That was one thing taken care of, ensuring that Jean would have someone to watch after him once Neil had to return to the Nest for summer practice, but the Ravens still had their final game of the year. Not that they weren’t already resolved to win, but Neil and Marley talked to the rest of their teammates, and everyone agreed that they refused to let their captain graduate without another championship to take with him to the pros.

_They_ weren’t going to let Jean down.

Dan shook her head as she watched them during one of their late night practices. “I wish I could bottle this up and send it to the Foxes somehow. I’ve got to figure out over the next few years how to take this determination and work it into their more… freeform style.”

Neil scoffed at that and threw his bottle of water into the recycle bin. “Good luck. Seems to me what makes a Raven is we’d be out here in the first place.”

“And what makes a Fox is we’ve been beaten down so much that we think we need to rebel against something as regimented as what you Ravens do,” Dan shot back; when Neil stared at her for that comment and wouldn’t look away, she had the grace to blush. “Well, you know what I mean.”

He supposed that he had tried to fight against Riko at the start, but in the end there were more important things than rebelling for the sake of rebelling. “If they want to get better and win, it shouldn’t matter,” was all he said before he flipped down his visor and grabbed his racquet so he could resume practice.

Because of finals and Jean and the championship game, Neil didn’t have much time to talk to Andrew. He knew his friend was busy dealing with the same hectic schedule as well, with Day preparing to join the Sirens and all the press swarming the PSU campus. They sent texts back and forth but couldn’t talk very often.

It was odd to think that Neil was more than halfway through his university career at that point, that he would be an upperclassman next year.

That he would be the Ravens’ captain.

The day of the game saw him up in the East Tower while the rest of the Ravens went over strategy and statistics one more time. He felt out of place in his track suit and felt the weight of stares directed his way as he stood beside Ichirou and Stuart and helped with some rudimentary translations for a new ‘colleague’ from China (he had the impression that he was there more to show Ichirou’s efforts in building towards that relationship). When Ichirou finally allowed Neil to leave (to return after the game), Masato followed him as well as Bren.

There were murmurs about ‘the Butcher’s son’ and ‘lover’ as Neil crossed the room, but they were quiet and lacking any heat – for the most part. It wasn’t as if Neil could do anything about them, and it wasn’t as if they weren’t the truth.

He changed into his uniform as quickly as possible so he could join his team, by then out on the court warming up, but it meant that he’d missed any chance to see Andrew privately as he’d hoped. Part of him wondered if Ichirou had deliberately called him up to the East Tower since the Ravens were playing the Foxes that evening.

However, Andrew wasn’t so easily deterred; he came over while the Ravens were working on their drills, along with Meg, Matt and Day so it wasn’t as obvious that he was there to see Neil. Dan grinned as she gave her boyfriend a hug, Marley made a fuss over Meg and Jean deigned to speak to Day, which was (hopefully) enough interference for Neil to get a few words in with Andrew.

“ _Patel said you got called up to the Tower_ ,” Andrew said in German, mindful not to stand too close to Neil. Still, just seeing him made Neil feel happy.

“ _Yeah, had to do some translating_.” Neil tried not to smile too much. “ _Fun bus ride for you? Looks like everyone survived this time_.”

There was a slight twitch in Andrew’s jaw. “ _This time. The way back might be a different story_.”

“ _Maybe the fact that they’ll lose today will calm them down_.”

“ _Maybe_.” Andrew gave him a lingering look. “ _You still seem tired_.”

Neil refused to let the slight smile fade as he glanced at Jean. “ _I have to get through tonight_ ,” he admitted. “ _We’re going to win and then I have to let him go_.” He didn’t _want_ to let Jean go, but in the end, Jean needed to be out of the Nest and start building some sort of life with the limited freedom that the pros allowed him.

Andrew clicked his tongue, his thick brows drawn over his eyes. “ _What about you_?” When Neil didn’t say anything, his eyes narrowed a little more. “ _You need to think about yourself a bit more, you fool martyr_.”

Neil just stood there and smiled at him. When Masato walked past, that was their cue for the Foxes to turn to ‘their’ side of the court.

Neil and Jean gave a brief interview before the game where they disputed any talk about a great ‘Perfect Court’ showdown – they didn’t deny that Day was the better striker or his years spent at Evermore, but he was a Fox and there was only so far he could carry a lesser team. They had no doubt that the Ravens would win again.

Noguchi gave a pep talk about proving to themselves more than the fans or anyone else that they were indeed champions, that they could overcome anything they set their mind to and move on to the future they decided for themselves, a vast improvement over Tetsuji’s ‘win or else’ speeches.

Jean won the coin toss that time, and the Ravens, per their agreed-upon strategy, pushed hard the first half of the game to wear down the Foxes, to make them use up their reserves and batter their defense before Andrew did his best to shut down the goal.

The Ravens were also careful to stick to old tactics, to not break out anything new while Andrew sat on the benches watching everything they did. It was difficult, especially with Day out on court doing his best to outwit Jean and Leif and Ben, to score as many points as he could in return, but Neil thought of Jean going down as the first Raven captain to lose a game and pushed harder. Judging from the expressions on his teammates’ faces, he knew they were thinking the same thing (that and there was still some lingering resentment against Day).

So he didn’t feel guilty when he stole the ball from Meg or checked her into the wall, or twisted around Matt to score a point on Hayes. They might be friends, but that was off-court, not on.

When the second half started and Andrew came on court? Neil knew his friend wasn’t going to be a ‘lazy goth’ and hand over the game to them, not for the sake of friendship. The Ravens had built up a point lead in the first half, and now the Foxes (Day) would try to narrow it down and overtake it while Andrew denied the Ravens any more points.

Andrew managed to shut down the goal the entire third quarter while Day scored three more points and Meg one, but Neil, Marley and the other Ravens wore the goalie down enough that he began to slip in the fourth quarter. Neil flashed his friend a smile when he scored a point at last, the only sign of Andrew’s ‘temper’ the way those massive gloves tightened around Andrew’s racquet, and felt a rush at being able to play together.

Neil knew that it was a dream, them being on the court like that for years to come, but he couldn’t help but to wish that it happened in one way or another. Dreams were all he had at that point.

Day and Meg and even Yee got the Foxes close to the Ravens on the scoreboard, but the Ravens were still ahead by two points when the final buzzer rang out. Both teams had been run ragged and Andrew wavered for a moment before his knees locked, while Neil had to brace himself when Marley let out a yell and enveloped him in a hug.

“We did it! We kicked Fox butt!” Marley shouted as she all but dragged Neil over to where a stunned Jean stood with his helmet in his hands. “Good job, mon capitaine!” She even gave Jean a half-assed salute.

Jean regarded her with some sort of weary disbelief and sighed. “Never sign with the Barons. Life can’t be _that_ cruel to me.”

“ _Hell_ naw,” Marley proclaimed as she shoved Neil at Jean. “I’m a Peregrine’s girl and can’t wait for a chance to kick your butt. Gonna be so fun being on opposing teams.” She laughed as she went off to hug Ben and the others.

Neil leaned against his partner while he removed his own helmet. “Another championship down.” Jean was safe now, had gotten through the year without losing a game. There was no worry about him going to the Barons as a failure.

“Yes.” Jean was quiet for a moment before giving him a quick hug. “ _Now it’s on your shoulders, devil captain_.” He graced Neil with a rare true smile. “ _You’ll do well_.”

For some reason there was an odd lump in Neil’s throat while they did the post-game line-up. Perhaps he should feel guilty about the looks of disappointment on some of the Foxes’ faces, such as Day and Meg and Matt, but he had to look after his own (and Meg had become a Fox) first. He was certain that they wouldn’t be too concerned if their positions were reversed.

Besides, Day and Matt were off to pro teams in a few weeks so it wasn’t as if the Foxes losing had affected their careers at all.

“I’ll be looking for a rematch soon enough,” Day told Jean when they shook hands. “Sirens versus the Barons.”

“And you’ll lose again,” Jean assured him.

“We’ll see.”

“A break from Exy, how wonderful,” Andrew drawled as he shook Neil’s hand. “I’ll think of you as I don’t move more than ten feet each day this summer.”

“Oh, then I’ll look for slippers and a slug for you while I’m in New York.” Neil laughed at the expression of mild disgust which Andrew couldn’t quite hide.

He savored the feel of Andrew’s hand around his for a moment longer before he let it go, savored having Andrew in front of him and Jean beside him, before his friend walked away and he had to head back to the East Tower. Before he and Jean left for New York in two more days, for Jean to remain behind there.

*******

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *******  
> Hmmm. Yes.  
> Year one Neil - Andrew's not bad, is he?  
> Year two Neil - Andrew is very important to me.  
> Year three Neil - Aw hell.  
> It's progression? At the least, it's what happens when one (Andrew) doesn't go for the very direct approach of 'it doesn't mean I wouldn't blow you'.  
> So, lots of things going on! Poor Jean off on his own (more or less). Neil and his sort-off epiphany. Andrew still working on things. Kevin in the pros and trying to win back Thea. Hmm, big things in the next chapter, oh yeah.
> 
> Oh - and didn't mean to be all WDWG with the tattoos (it's NOT the same tattoo), but it seemed to be something that Marley would push for with the boys, something to tie them together in face of Jean going away, something to try to cheer them up and all (a three musketeers thing). She does feel a little left out at times, she respects the bond Jean and Neil have (and hates what binds them so tightly together), and is happy when something puts them on an even footing. So tattoos. Of course as soon as Ichirou heard about it, he'd step in. 
> 
> As always, the comments and kudos are appreciated!  
> *******


	23. Wolves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, so I honestly thought it would be two weeks before a new chapter - this week was crazy busy with work and I was barely home. BUT... this is the chapter I've been WAITING to write forever (or at least part of the chapter, the next one is equally important). There's a LOT of things happening here, some good, some bad (well, let's say rough), so you need to read it until the end. PROMISE. Anyway, while I barely had a third of it done on Friday... somehow I powered through the rest of it in the last two days.
> 
> That said, it hasn't gone to my amazing beta to catch mistakes and only had like 1.5 read-throughs, so I'm sure there's lots of errors. And no summary.
> 
> Since this is late, let's wrap this up.
> 
> Triggers: Okay, so Neil being an idiot (as usual?) and pushing himself (no sleep, not eating), and bodily harm/mild mutilation. Violence. Nothing graphic/explicit at all.  
> *******

*******

Neil dropped off the reusable bags filled with groceries on the granite counters in the kitchen then began to unpack them; in the past two weeks they’d slowly filled the apartment, had run out every day to make purchases and it was looking like a ‘home’ at last. There was a wine rack full of bottles, an expensive as hell espresso machine that had been a gift from Bren and Janna next to a tea machine from Stuart, and even a toaster oven (between that and the microwave, Jean should be able to manage a few simple meals – Neil and Marley had taught him how to cook a little during their stay).

The place had come furnished with plush chenille couches and oak wood furniture, but they’d hit various out of the way shops to pick up bright fabrics and pillows to scatter around the rooms. Jean (and Neil, eventually) wasn’t at the Nest anymore so no more dour black and red. They did their best to offset the ‘soothing’ neutrals as well, to add splashes of blue, purple, silver and teal all over the place.

Neil loved the view the best, of being able to look out over Central Park, to see the sky again after so long. To press a button to open the blinds in the morning and watch the sun rise or see the sky darken in the evening. Being twenty-three stories up meant that they had to take the elevator, but it was worth it for that view, to have all the floor to ceiling windows and not feel so trapped all the time.

Jean seemed to feel the same, considering how he drank coffee out on the balcony in the morning and could be found standing out there often during the day. Neil imagined that he spent time there in the evening, too, but by then Neil was often back at the Lowell with Ichirou.

Tomorrow he would return to Edgar Allan.

He paused in putting away the groceries then forced himself to continue to place the prepared salad mixes in the fridge, along with the packaged chicken breast that Jean just had to cook. “Do you have everything for tomorrow?” he called out to his friend as he folded the bags so he could put them in the one drawer.

Jean nodded and held up his phone. “I’m to meet Rory, Thom and Ally at nine and yes, I’ve the directions.” Even though the Barons were in the final playoffs, the former Ravens had set aside time to meet up with Jean to help him settle in to his new home before the official practice season started since he couldn’t remain at the Nest any longer.

“Good.” Aware that Ichirou would be expecting him, Neil forced himself cross the room and felt a tickle in the back of his throat when Jean enfolded him in a hug that nearly squeezed the air form his lungs. “I’m sure I’ll be back soon,” he told his friend.

“I’ll be fine,” Jean assured him. “I’m an adult, I can do this.”

There were a dozen snarky remarks Neil could make then, but it wasn’t the time for their usual banter; instead, he smiled and nodded. “Yes, you can,” he assured his friend, unwilling to risk tearing apart the hard-won confidence that Jean had cobbled together in the past two weeks.

It wasn’t that Jean wasn’t a capable, intelligent young man, it was that he’d spent much of the past decade being told he was useless, that he couldn’t do anything without permission, that he wouldn’t amount to anything without Riko leading the way. He hadn’t left the Nest for anything unrelated to Exy and barely at that until Neil had come into his life, and only had this amount of freedom because Riko was gone. Jean now had to relearn how to be alone, how to feed himself and other things that everyone took for granted; Neil was grateful that Declan was right down the hall and that there were other Ravens who would check up on his friend.

He stepped aside so Marley could hug Jean ‘goodbye’, too. “You’ll be all right,” she assured him. “You’ve enough food to last a couple of days and we’ve hooked you up to a Netflix account, you’re golden, Crusty. And I _know_ your skype account on your laptop so don’t even try to block us, we’ll be calling tomorrow.”

“You’re _both_ devils,” Jean muttered, but Neil knew that his friend was inwardly pleased by it, by them insisting on keeping in touch, by their looking out for him. For too long Jean had been all alone and now that he was away from the Nest, he still had people who would be there for him.

“When’s Knox visiting again?” Neil bit back on a grin at the slight blush on his friend’s cheeks and shared a quick glance with Marley.

“Ah… the latter part of May. He’s finishing up a visit with his parents right now.”

“Good.”

“Be sure to take lots of Surfer puppy pics for us.” Marley waved to a pained Jean before they headed to the front door of the apartment while Neil texted to Bren that they were leaving.

Bren met them in the hallway since he’d said his goodbyes earlier and been hanging out with Declan, and the three of them took the elevator down to the garage level where Jean’s Maserati was parked, along with the SUVs for the bodyguards. The apartment building had security at all entrances/exits (doormen, a manned booth at the gates into and out of the garage, code-locked doors) which was probably why Ichirou had wanted Neil and Jean to stay there, and would also make Bren and Declan’s jobs a little easier.

It meant that Jean should be safe.

Bren drove them back to the Lowell hotel, where Neil would spend the night with Ichirou and Marley was going to drag Bren out for some shopping before they returned to the Nest and began summer practice.

They would start the new year where Neil was the captain, was responsible for the team. Neil felt a sharp edge of panic at the thought, the weight of responsibility on his shoulders, and was all too eager for once to lose himself in Ichirou, in playing the part he’d learned so well in the last couple of years (of smiling and bantering and being _good_ ).

“ _Two more years_ ,” Ichirou said in the morning as he kissed Neil’s tattooed right shoulder. “ _Two more years and you’ll be full-time_.”

“ _When I’m not traveling for games_ ,” Neil reminded his lord, mind still a bit numb from the night before, body still a bit sore. “ _There’s more road games in the pros_.”

“ _True, but I won’t have to travel to West Virginia to see you_.” Ichirou lifted his chin for another kiss, and then Neil could escape to shower before his flight back to Edgar Allan.

He didn’t want to think about dealing with Ichirou more often, possibly every week (multiple times a week). He kept waiting for the man to grow bored with him, for it to be _enough_ … but of course he was never that lucky.

It felt wrong to fly back without Jean on the plane, as if they’d left without him and should turn around immediately. Neil kept checking for his friend, kept expecting to find Jean in the one chair drinking coffee and complaining about British devils, and noticed that Marley did the same, too. They shared wan smiles with each other while Bren attempted to distract them by complaining about how Marley kept dragging him to various stores and made him carry all of her bags and did he look like he knew a fucking thing about fashion?

“I mean really, it’s a fucking shoe. If it fits, buy it,” Bren grumbled as he helped himself to more whisky.

“Oh my god, I was trying to choose between a bootie and a _sandal_. How are they the same?” Marley threw her hands in the air before she collapsed in the chair. “ _Men_.”

“You bought both,” Bren complained. “So why did you even bother me with that shit?”

Marley grinned as she glanced over at the many shopping bags. “Because it’s fun torturing you? That and I just _love_ using that black card.”

Bren jabbed a thick forefinger in her smirking face. “You _better_ go pro, Mo, because you got damn expensive tastes.”

She laughed as she batted his hand aside. “Oh, I’m working on it!” Her smile faded as she looked over at Neil. “Hey, you all ri- yeah, no. You know he’s going to be okay, don’t you? Crusty’s tough, he’ll make it just to prove a point to us.”

“I know,” Neil agreed. “I just miss him already.” He sighed when Bren came over to pour some whisky into his mug of tea. “Thanks.”

“You still have us, Red.”

“I know,” Neil repeated, and that meant a lot to him. But they weren’t Jean, weren’t someone who’d dealt with Riko and Federov and the others, who had the same nightmares and scars, who know what it meant to be property. Who’d watched his back while he’d slept the last three years and stitched him back together and promised to go off a bridge with him.

It was quiet at the Nest when they returned, in part because of losing several upperclassmen – Jean, Avery, Ben, Naomi, and Karl - and in part because of waiting for the new recruits to arrive in a few weeks.

Because they’d lost so many of their senior players – Leif, Toby, Ren, Lee, Dale and Cal were now the oldest players on the team - it meant that Neil _had_ to ensure that the younger players were up to the challenge of continuing the Ravens’ winning streak. Fortunately they had a lot of talented people on the team – Marley, Ethan, Mohit, Miranda, Trey and Bailey – but some of them needed the experience to ensure that they could take over the open positions when the time came.

Noguchi started the first day of practice with everyone trying out for the starting positions again, and that year Marley finally became a starting striker with Neil. Lee was elevated up to starting backliner with Leif, Ethan and Ren were the goalkeepers, while Cal and Miranda were the team’s starting dealers.

Lee appeared stunned that he’d made the starting line-up, but with Riko and Tetsuji gone he’d pushed hard to train (had been able to _focus_ on training without worrying about being beaten if he messed something up) and improved greatly. The team was heavy with backliners at the moment (since none of them were dropping out in the middle of the season due to injuries or ‘stress’), but everyone on the team was pleased for the young man.

Meanwhile, Marley was almost unbearable to put up with for the next couple of days – not only over being vice-captain and on the starting line-up, but because she’d been given Thea Muldani’s number ‘14’.  Neil had to take several pictures of her in her new jersey and listen to her call her friends and family – including Meg.

“Yeah, yeah, so what?” Meg said while laughing. “I’m the _captain_ this year.”

“Captain of a _loser_ team,” Marley shot back. “We’ll kick your butts again this year, too!”

Neil texted Jean and asked his friend if it was too early to join the Barons while Marley and Meg bickered for half an hour. Jean, the French bastard, took great delight in telling him ‘no’, that he had to suffer there for two more years.

Practices were intense as everyone worked to learn their new positions and responsibilities before the freshmen arrived, but it wasn’t enough to wear Neil down to the point that he could just pass out when it came time to sleep. During all those years on the run he’d had his mother watching his back and then a gun beneath his pillow when he’d been on his own for that grey year out west. He’d gotten used to having Jean in bed with him while at the Nest, to sleeping with his partner pressed against his back or those strong arms around him, and now the bed felt cold and too big.

Marley tried to sleep with him a couple of nights, but she moved about too much, used to having the bed to herself. Neil appreciated her efforts, but it just wasn’t going to work out and he figured that it would have to be enough knowing that she was across the room.

It wasn’t.

He threw himself into practice as much as possible, pushed himself to his limits and then past them as he worked on the drills and the scrimmages until he could barely stand. When not even the extra evening practice was enough, when he found himself lying awake in the bed at night, he would sneak out of the room and work on drills until he could barely see straight.

Marley and Dan yelled at him when they found out, but he couldn’t stay still, couldn’t lay there in that empty bed and let the nightmares find him. He’d rather work himself into such an exhausted state that when he did fall asleep, he was too tired to dream or think about how he was alone, to worry about how he might be the one to let the team down, to break the line of consecutive wins and fail everyone (to fail Ichirou and Jean).

He tried to explain that to Andrew on their calls, but his friend just clicked his tongue and called him an idiot, told him that he worried too much about a stupid stickball game. Even Jean chided him about how he needed to stop worrying, to have faith and take care of himself better when he went to New York to see his friend (and Ichirou).

His lord frowned over the weight Neil was losing, to which Neil commented about a stomach bug and a more intensive training regimen, and that he’d gain it back soon enough.

It got to where all Neil could think about was being out on the court, to being perfect, to pushing harder and harder and _harder_. He couldn’t let the team down. He couldn’t fail.

He _couldn’t_.

*******

Andrew checked the fridge for the third time in the past hour as if that would somehow change its contents; with Nicky in Germany visiting Erik and Kevin already down in Houston (the damn overachiever), there was no one in the house at the moment who felt the need to do any grocery shopping. At least, not unless the freezer was empty of ice cream, and Andrew still had a couple of pints left, enough to last him until tomorrow.

They’d probably have to order delivery again for dinner, maybe the one Mexican place a few blocks away since they’d already had pizza twice that week. Andrew went to look for the take-out menus when his phone rang; he reached into his back pocket and frowned when he saw Wilds’ number on the display. “What did he do now?” He assumed that it was about Neil because Wilds didn’t call him otherwise – that and the idiot had barely texted him in three days.

“You busy?” Wilds asked, her tone clipped and in that ‘I’m your captain’ mode which Andrew had always found annoying.

“It’s summer break,” Andrew drawled as he leaned against the counter; Aaron came into the kitchen around then, apparently to fetch a new can of soda and gave him a curious look. “Just tell me what he did now.”

“Good, then you’re coming to visit me. How soon can you get a flight here?”

Andrew wondered if the call was a rather badly thought-out prank for a moment, but Wilds hadn’t been one to play jokes like that. “One of us is delusional right now, and I don’t think it’s me. What the _fuck_ are-“

“Get a goddammed plane ticket, Andrew,” Wilds ground out, her voice little more than a growl which was impressive, all in all. “Grab the first one you can find to Charleston and get on the fucking plane, do I have to spell it out to you any clearer than that?”

Aaron must have caught some of that because he let the fridge door close without fetching a soda and gaped at Andrew who stood there for a moment before he pushed away from the counter to go fetch his laptop. “How bad is it?” Because there was no way in hell that Wilds was calling _him_ to Edgar Allan unless Neil was in bad shape. “Was it Ichirou?”

“No,” Wilds assured him in a rush. “But Bren’s looking into horse tranquilizers to knock Neil out which isn’t… it’s a mess, okay? We can’t get him off the court for more than a couple of hours – Hiro’s tried changing the locks and Neil just picks them. He’s threatened to take the captaincy away from Neil if he didn’t get some rest and the little shit called his bluff, told him that Ichirou won’t let that happen.” She sounded torn between admiration and indignation.

As for Andrew, somehow he wasn’t surprised that Neil was being a bastard, he just didn’t know _why_. “So what, he’s practicing nonstop?” Having found his laptop, he sat down at his desk and logged on while Aaron hovered in the doorway; when Andrew didn’t shoo him away, he leaned against the frame, his expression intent as he listened in on the conversation, which was made easier when Andrew put Wilds on the speakerphone so he could type with both hands.

“Yeah, he pretty much doesn’t take a break until he passes out. Marley and the others do their best to keep up with him but can’t.”

Because they weren’t idiots. “Why?” Andrew asked, even though he thought he had an idea from the last couple of calls with his little bird. “Don’t tell me he’s that worried about the upcoming season.”

“Bingo.” Wilds sounded worn out then. “He’s determined to have the team in perfect shape for the incoming freshmen, to keep on with the winning streak. I don’t know if something was said to him or what, but the poor kid’s freaking out over leading the Ravens.”

“He’s a fucking idiot,” Andrew said as he pulled up an app to search for the earliest flight to Charleston.

“It’s not like the Foxes,” Wilds argued. “The Ravens are undefeated, they’re the best in Class I and have the best record in _all_ of Exy, Andrew. I can see why Neil’s under all this stress, he just needs to learn to handle it better.”

“It’s a stupid game.” Ah, there was one in two hours – good thing the airport was nearby. “I’ll be there in by eight tonight.”

“Look, you’re coming to visit me,” Wilds said in a rush. “Me and Matt. Anyone asks, you tell them that, okay?”

Anyone who knew Andrew wouldn’t buy it… but he supposed anyone who really knew him would also know to keep their mouths shut. “Fine. I’ll text you the details. Keep the idiot alive until I get there,” he said before he hung up.

As soon as the ticket was confirmed and on his phone, he stood in a rush to grab a bag and start throwing some clothes into it. “You’re on your own for the next few days,” he told Aaron, as if his brother couldn’t figure it out by then.

“Yeah, big surprise.” Despite the smart remark, Aaron didn’t sound bitter or angry, only worried. “You going to be all right up there? I mean… I thought there was a reason why Josten had those people hanging around him all the time.”

Andrew paused in shoving some boxers into the bag and shrugged. “Wilds wouldn’t have called unless she thought it was all right.” They might not be ‘friends’, but she wouldn’t screw over another Fox like that, and she cared for Renee, who was Andrew’s friend.

Dammit, he’d have to leave his knives behind, it occurred to him as he thought about Renee.

“Okay.” Aaron didn’t appear happy, but at least he didn’t look as worried anymore. “At least now I can get all that pre-class prep done in peace before Katelyn and Nicky return,” he joked.

“Glad one of us will be having a fun time.” Finished packing – Andrew figured he could borrow toothpaste and shit like that from Neil or Boyd – he picked up his bag and went for his keys before he thought about leaving the GS at the airport for a few days. “Shit, maybe I should call a ride.”

“Or… I could drive you?”

He stared at his brother, who gazed at him with a bit of defiance that was marred by the way his hands twisted in the hem of the old t-shirt that Nicky had brought back from Stuttgart years ago. “Since when do you know how to drive?” Andrew asked without censure; Tilda hadn’t taught Aaron, who’d never shown an interest after the car accident.

“Katelyn taught me,” Aaron admitted, his voice cracking a little then growing stronger. “This past year, she’s been letting me drive her car around campus. I figured it was time.”

Andrew regarded his brother for a couple of seconds before he tossed him the keys. “You have a license yet?”

“Ah, no?” Aaron appeared shocked as he caught the keys. “We… well, I was gonna go for it this summer.”

“Then don’t get caught. Let’s go.” Andrew shouldered the bag then headed out the door while his brother gave him a shy smile before following.

It figured that Aaron was the most cautious driver out of the three of them, mindful of the speed limit and traffic laws as he drove Andrew to the airport. Despite his impatience, Andrew remained quiet and smoked a cigarette on the way and gave his brother a salute goodbye before stalking toward security with the hoodie of his black shirt pulled over his head.

He might not be making any extra money or getting any fancy shoes on his own, but no one paid him much attention other than a curious glance or two while he waited in line to have his carry-on bag scanned.

Worrying about an idiot Exy junky served as a distraction of sorts as he grabbed a bite to eat while he waited to board the plane and texted Wilds his flight information, then tried to reach Patel. It appeared that she was probably busy with Neil at the time and didn’t respond, and then he was in the air flying to West Virginia.

At least it wasn’t that long of a flight.

Boyd was waiting outside of the airport when Andrew arrived and grinned at him. “Andrew! So good to see you, man!” When he held out his hand, Andrew shoved his travel bag into it. “Yeah, it’s gonna be fun!”

“I’m laughing on the inside,” Andrew drawled as he climbed into the passenger seat of the grey truck that he assumed belonged to Wilds. “What’s going on? Where’s Wilds?”

“At the house,” Boyd explained as he put the truck into ‘Drive’ and pulled away from the curb. “We’ll head there just in case anyone’s paying any attention and then she’ll take you to the Nest, okay?” His grin was gone, replaced by a worried expression. “Marley’s with Neil on the court, said he barely ate anything for dinner again and is probably planning on practicing all night.”

Andrew rubbed at his forehead and wondered for a moment why Fate had decided that he was to be plagued with these Exy addicts. “Why _hasn’t_ Bren tranqued his stubborn ass yet?”

Boyd glared at Andrew as if he’d just suggested something horrible. “He can’t _do_ that! How would Neil trust him or any of us again if that happens?” Boyd shook his head several times and still appeared appalled. “That and it’s just a short-term solution.”

True. “What about Moreau? You telling me that he’s just letting Neil fall apart?” Andrew had thought about that during the flight and couldn’t see it happening, not even if Frenchie was in another state.

“Jean suggested we call you.” Boyd caught Andrew’s slight motion at that surprising answer and smiled. “Dan said he wanted to come but they talked about it, her, Marley and him, and they decided it was best that he stay in New York – Neil’s gotta figure this out on his own.” Boyd’s wide mouth twisted as he glanced at Andrew again. “Well, I mean Neil’s gotta find a way to deal with being the captain and everything without Jean by his side, and that’s not gonna happen if Jean comes running all the time. Man, is it weird or what, that whole partner system?” He didn’t wait for Andrew to answer. “No wonder Kevin had such a hard time adjusting to things.”

Moreau thought that Neil would do better with Andrew than him, Neil’s partner, at his side. Andrew supposed it made sense in a way, but this whole situation had the potential to blow up in their faces. Now that he was in Charleston and had a moment to think, he knew that he had to be careful, had to put Neil first and foremost, to not dare to _want_ while he was at the Nest.

After so many years of not wanting anything, of not feeling, it seemed as if he was also cursed with having someone determined to draw those things out of him all at once. To have him suffer such things yet be unable to act upon them.

Andrew always knew that the universe hated him, he never needed it spelled out so explicitly as having Neil Josten inflicted upon him.

Dan Wilds lived in a boring townhouse he had no interest in seeing, so it was a good thing that all they did was go in long enough for her to offer him a drink (a beer which she was wise enough to give him) and then the two of them were off to Edgar Allan while Boyd remained behind. “Okay, so Hiro’s not totally with us on this, but then he answers more to Ichirou than I do. He’s not going to stop it because he’s worried about Neil, but he’s not happy.”

Like Andrew gave a damn. “And Bren?” He was the one who watched over Neil almost every day, after all.

“As long as it works, he’s fine with it.” Wilds glanced at Andrew for a moment, her expression guarded. “Ah, and as long as you keep your hands to yourself.”

Such a shame about leaving his knives in Columbia – as it was, Andrew was ready to reenact ‘dear’ Tilda’s final moments on the earth. “I’m only here to shake some sense into the idiot,” Andrew managed to say without any inflection as he shook out a cigarette instead.

Wilds let out a slow breath. “I know, I _know_ , but I thought it needed said, okay? Because there’s definitely something going on between you and Neil, a blind man could sense it if in a room with the two of you. And while I’m not against it, all things considered, right now that’s the last thing he needs.”

Oh how wonderful, he had her blessing. Andrew blew smoke at the busybody and wondered if part of Neil’s constant breakdowns was the fact that he had to deal with pests like her on a constant basis.

After waving away the smoke, Wilds clenched her jaw and stared straight ahead. “I swear, if Neil didn’t need you… just behave and don’t cause trouble, okay? And if anyone asks, you’re here to hang out with me.”

Andrew gave her a two-fingered salute then flicked ash onto the carpet of the truck.

“How the hell Renee put up with your contrary ass for three years without stabbing you, I’ve no clue,” Wilds muttered as she sped up. “She really is a saint.”

They would disagree on that last point.

Wilds finally pulled into Castle Evermore’s parking lot, close to where there was a fleet of sleek black sedans with matching license plates and two gleaming Maseratis. Andrew eyed the vehicles as he walked past them, then paid attention to the security guards at the gates and Wilds having to enter various codes to get past reinforced doors leading to the court. “Is that to keep people out or to keep them in?”

“Mostly the first but trust me, I think of how it’s probably a bit of the second,” Wilds admitted with a frown. “Not that Neil goes anywhere without Bren or one of the others right next to him.”

“And you’re fine with that?” Had capitalism quelled the idealistic captain at last?

“No, dammit,” Wilds spat as her hands clenched into fists, yet she didn’t lash out at him – at least not physically. “If I thought for one second that Neil would make a run for it? I’d give him the codes, but he made it clear from the start that he was staying in the Nest and he didn’t want me to interfere with anything.”

“He’s an idiot.” It seemed as if Andrew said that a lot lately, which didn’t make it a lie.

“Yeah,” Wilds agreed. “But his heart is in the right place.”

What did that have to do with anything?

By that point they’d reached Evermore’s court, and Andrew could hear Patel and a couple of other people yelling about something – about Neil, it seemed. Andrew and Wilds came out of one of the tunnels and spotted Bren and Janna standing about, both of them appearing unhappy.

“It’s about damn time,” Bren snapped as he stepped away from the Plexiglass wall he’d been leaning against. “His plane landed almost an hour ago.”

“Matt brought him back to my place first in case anyone got curious about a Fox being in town,” Wilds snapped while Andrew dropped his bag onto the concrete floor. “We’re trying to-“

“How long has he been out there?” Andrew could see Neil on court with Patel and a few other Ravens, too focused on training to notice him yet.

“For almost three hours now,” Janna answered, her expression worried as they headed for the door to the court. “Better question anymore is when’s he _off_ it?”

“Dan tell you about how he sneaks out there at night?” Bren asked as Andrew reached the door. “I’m about to chain him to his bed.”

Andrew would say ‘go for it’ except they all knew how well Neil would react to that, which was why Bren hadn’t done it already. Instead, he opened the door despite there being a live practice going on (Wilds glared but didn’t say anything) and stepped out onto Evermore’s court.

Patel and the goalie, Garcia, noticed him right away, but Neil’s back was toward Andrew and it took a moment for him to react; he ran a couple of steps and nearly tripped when he turned to throw the ball and caught sight of Andrew instead. Even with the mask down, Andrew could see those blue eyes (surrounded by shadows) grow wide as Neil fumbled to remain on his feet.

He dropped the ball and nearly his racquet, but after an ungainly step or two evened out his gait and ran over to Andrew. “What… what are you doing here?” Neil asked in a raspy, uncertain voice as he tugged off his helmet with his left hand. “Andrew?”

“ _I heard someone was being a stupid, suicidal fool_ ,” Andrew said in German as he took in the dark circles beneath Neil’s eyes, the sunken cheeks, the obvious signs of stress and ill-care. “ _I decided to come here and see for myself_ ,” he gritted out as anger flared inside over how Neil was _such_ an idiot. Without thinking of it, he stalked across the wooden floor of the court and reached out to tangle his fingers in the sweat-soaked front of Neil’s black and red jersey. “ _What are you doing to yourself_?”

Neil’s eyes went even wider and a couple of the Ravens jerked forward as if to stop Andrew, but Patel swung her racquet out to block them while Neil didn’t attempt to pull away, he merely dropped his own racquet and helmet and wrapped his gloved hand over Andrew’s bare one. “I… _I’m practicing_ ,” he answered in faint German. “ _It’s our summer session and_ -“

“ _You barely look able to stand and you’ve lost what, almost ten pounds? When’s the last time you’ve actually slept_?” Andrew stared down the masochistic fool while Neil wavered in front of him, shamed into silence or too stubborn to speak up (most likely the latter). “Shower, now,” he ordered as he took a step back and pulled Neil along.

“We haven’t finished practicing,” Neil protested as he stumbled after Andrew.

“Too bad. I came all this way to see you so you’re going to shower and eat dinner with me.” When it looked as if a certain little bird was about to protest, Andrew yanked on his shirt. “No, _you will_.”

“ _I **have** to be imagining this_ ,” Neil muttered in French as he rubbed at his face, but he finally went along with Andrew which was all that mattered.

Andrew ignored the pleased smiles directed his way (Patel, Wilds, one or two of the Ravens) and the more suspicious ones (Bren and the rest of the Ravens). He almost rethought the whole ‘shower’ thing when he reached the men’s locker room and remembered that there weren’t any private stalls, and settled for checking his phone in the lounge while Neil showered and changed.

It only took a few minutes before his friend came out, auburn hair damp and falling onto his face, black and red sweats hanging on his even leaner than usual body. Neil appeared ready to collapse at any moment, his entire demeanor one of exhaustion, and if it wasn’t for the fact that he had lost weight since the end of April then Andrew would shove him onto the nearest bed and make him sleep for a dozen hours or so. Instead, Andrew turned to Bren, who was being Neil’s ever-present shadow, as always.

“Where’s the nearest kitchen?”

“I’m not hungry,” Neil complained while Bren motioned for Andrew to follow.

“Come on, it’s not much but it’s something,” the bodyguard said as they headed toward the door that should lead into the Nest ‘proper’.

Patel was waiting right outside in the hallway and smiled when she seemed to notice where they were going, while Wilds caught up with them and handed over Andrew’s bag. There was a lot of black and red hallways, which Andrew memorized, and odd looks from various Ravens walking around, but eventually they came to a small kitchen filled with a couple of fridges, various blenders and microwaves, where Patel commenced to riffle through the cabinets and the one fridge to whip up a fruit smoothie for Neil while Andrew had to placate himself with a chicken sandwich.

“But I’m not hungry,” Neil tried to argue (again) once Patel set the full glass of pureed fruit down in front of him.

“You’ve barely eaten today, you need it,” she told him with an anxious look. “Come on, have a-“

“Drink it or you’re going to wear it,” Andrew said as he finished putting together his sandwich. “Though if you pass out, then it’s easier to pry your mouth open and pour it down your throat.”

Neil’s eyes narrowed and he appeared the most animated since Andrew had arrived at Edgar Allan. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Just sit there for another ten minutes or so and I will.” Andrew leaned back against the counter with his arms folded across his chest and stared down the idiot.

Patel glanced back and forth between them a couple of times. “Wonderful, and I thought things couldn’t get worse.” She gave Andrew a dirty look. “You’re here to help, not berate him.”

“Coddling him hasn’t done any good,” Andrew pointed out.

Neil got up from the table where he was sitting with Bren and took a halting step toward Andrew. “No one’s coddling me! And stop talking as if I’m not here!” He wavered a little, which prompted Andrew to reach out and grab hold of his arm; they both went still at the touch and Andrew almost let go before Neil latched on to his arm in return.

“I’m fine,” Neil tried to insist, his voice still a bit rough as he gazed at Andrew with desperation as if willing him to believe the words.

“No, you’re not, so sit down and drink the damn fruit.” Andrew walked Neil back to the table and gave him a gentle push onto the chair he’d just abandoned. “Let me eat my crappy sandwich in peace.”

It looked as if Neil wanted to argue some more, but Bren pushed the glass closer to him and gave him a stern look right as Patel sat down at the table, too. Neil glanced back and forth between them before he sighed and began to drink the disgusting smoothie, which meant that Andrew could eat his sandwich.

Once that was done, Neil and Patel took Andrew to their room, which was a depressing oasis of black – black walls and floor with even more black accessories, a few spots of color aside. “Lovely,” Andrew remarked; it was also a lot smaller than the rooms in the Fox Tower, much more utilitarian. No wonder the Ravens focused so much on their precious stickball when there wasn’t much else for them to do in the Nest.

Neil glanced at Andrew’s bag and then around the room. “Uhm… are you staying with Dan? Or I suppose we can put you in a spare room around here.”

“I’m here for you, I’m staying with you,” Andrew said; he’d slept in worse places than the floor in the past, he’d manage for a couple of nights.

That seemed to confuse Neil even more, who glanced over at Patel; she was busy texting on her phone while she sat on her bed and paused to shrug. Andrew noticed that no one seemed inclined to leave him alone with Neil after dragging him up to Edgar Allan to deal with the little bird. “Uhm, okay?”

“We’ll figure something out,” Patel reassured him.

Neil sat down on his own bed; he was dressed in one of Moreau’s sweatshirts and was quick to wrap a brightly patterned quilt around his shoulders as he tucked himself into the corner as if he was freezing (to be fair, it was cold in the Nest, Andrew had noticed). “You really came all the way up here? What about your summer plans?” he asked Andrew, who decided to light up a cigarette.

What summer plans? Andrew huffed a little as he sat down in one of the desk chairs. “Why are you doing this to yourself?” he countered. “You can’t tell me Frenchie’s happy about you trying to kill yourself with exhaustion and starvation the moment he’s gone. What good is this going to do?”

“I’m not-“ Neil shook his head and glared at Andrew while Patel smiled. “I’m not trying to kill myself!”

Right, like Neil could keep up such an insane pace very long. “Try playing a game when you’re starved and sleep-deprived and you might as well be,” Andrew argued, and when a haunted look came into Neil’s eyes, he shook his head. “No, like you are now.” Something dark and seething sparked inside of him at the thought that _this_ time, Neil had done it to himself – mostly. “Why the hell are you doing this for a stupid game?” he asked, and all the while Patel watched on intently from her side of the room.

“Because it’s not just a game,” Neil insisted, his voice even more hoarse than before. “Because… because we have to keep winning. We can’t lose, we-“

“Bullshit,” Andrew said, tired of hearing the same garbage Neil had rattled off during their calls. “You’re that worried about your precious winning streak? Over something stupid like that? You’re human, Neil, you and the rest of this team. Sooner or later you’re going to lose a stupid game. It happens.”

Neil flinched at that and shook his head. “No, it… it can’t happen, not when I’m captain, not after taking over from Jean.” He picked at the left cuff of his sweatshirt – Moreau’s sweatshirt – the same time he bit into his chapped bottom lip. “We need to keep being the best.”

“Oh Neil, everyone knows we’re the best,” Patel assured him while Andrew fought the urge to shake some sense into him. “That’s not going to change, and you’re a great captain. Look at how you trained me and the others the last three years. We’re not going to lose the titles and _that’s_ what matters.”

“I can’t let the team down,” Neil murmured as if he hadn’t heard her; Patel shot Andrew a look as if to say ‘see what we’re dealing with here?’.

Andrew got up from his chair and, moving slow enough so as to not startle Neil, knelt on the bed and cupped his friend’s face between his hands, the hold gentle enough that Neil could pull free at any moment. “Listen to me,” he said in an even voice. “ _Listen_. You’re one of the best players out there, even Kevin agrees and he’s cheaper with praise when it comes to Exy than a miser with money. You’re good enough to be the captain of this team, you’ve earned it. The only thing that’s going to mess things up is _you_ , so stop freaking out, get some sleep and stop skipping meals.”

Neil’s breath caught in his throat at the touch and he went still, but he gazed back at Andrew and didn’t struggle, and he relaxed about halfway through the ‘lecture’. “I can’t mess this up,” he said as he wrapped his cold fingers around Andrew’s wrists, again lightly enough that Andrew could shake them off with ease.

“You won’t, at least once you stop being so stupid,” Andrew was kind enough to point out. “Stop working yourself to death and worrying everyone so much.”

“I… so much is….” Neil closed his eyes and tilted his face into Andrew’s left palm.

So much relied on Neil doing a good job, a ‘perfect’ job, he probably meant to say; Neil never forgot about his debt to Ichirou Moriyama and _why_ he’d sold himself to the bastard – Jean Moreau and Marley Patel and somewhat Meg Curtis (still), even if he’d already been property because of his asshole father.

As always, Neil was putting others before himself, was breaking himself down and into pieces to ensure that _they_ were all right (that Moreau and Patel were safe, that the Ravens were doing well). All Andrew gave a damn about was that Neil was all right, that he was safe and happy for once (had he ever been those things?).

He wanted so much to pull Neil close, to wrap his arms around him and tilt his chip up and ask him ‘yes or no’ (part of what he’d worked on with Bee), to lean in and kiss him until Neil no longer thought about Ravens and Exy and Ichirou.

But that was what _Andrew_ wanted, and that would be a very foolish thing to do right then, so Andrew stroked his thumb along Neil’s right cheek before he pulled his hands away (a small part of him noted the flash of regret in Neil’s eyes right then). “You need to focus on yourself some more, or else you can’t be good for anyone else,” he reminded the little bird.

“Exactly!” Patel chimed in. “That’s what we’ve been trying to tell you!”

Andrew had just returned to the chair when the door opened to admit Bren, who struggled to drag on what looked to be a mattress pulled from another bed, and Janna, who had a mug of tea in one hand and some bedding beneath the other arm.

The tea was handed over to Neil and the bedding set down on one of the desks, while the twin mattress was dumped on the floor by Neil’s bed. “For the runt,” Bren explained. “You’re bunking with Janna while he’s here,” he told Patel. “I’m borrowing your bed.” From the sense of finality in his deep voice, it wasn’t up for debate.

Someone probably wanted to explain to their employer that they hadn’t let a certain unwanted person spend the night unsupervised with Neil, Andrew was thinking.

“Okay,” Patel said without any hesitation. “Let me just grab a couple of things.”

While she did that, Andrew worked on making up his ‘bed’; it was still early for him, but Neil was exhausted and needed to sleep. “You try to get up during the night to play stickball and I’m tripping you then shoving you into the closet,” Andrew promised.

Neil paused in drinking what smelled to be some sort of herbal tea to sigh. “I just… it’s difficult,” he admitted as he ran his right hand through his disheveled hair. “I’m used to sleeping with Jean – we always share the same bed.” The haunted look was back in his eyes as he glanced down at the bed for a moment, which made Andrew wonder why Neil kept waking up in the middle of the night. Made him wonder about Neil’s first few months at the Nest (with Riko and Federov and the others, before the deal with Ichirou) and felt that dark, seething emotion again. “I’ll get used to sleeping alone again.”

There was no way Andrew could help him there, not when he woke with his own remembered terrors all too often, but after Patel and Janna left and the three of them got ready for the night… he made a point of reaching up for one of Neil’s hands when they both stretched out in their respective ‘beds’. It wasn’t ideal and he wasn’t sure how long he could bear the contact, but it should be enough to settle Neil down to the point that he would pass out from exhaustion.

Andrew woke at some point in the night, his own sleep uneasy because of Bren’s rumbling snore and the unfamiliar room, his back against the bedframe and arm tingling from being in an upright position so long, to feel Neil’s fingers digging into his own. He sat up and peered above the mattress to find Neil gazing back at him, most of his face buried in the quilts but eyes wide. “It’s all right,” Andrew assured him in a quiet voice. “You’re not alone. They’re gone.”

Neil didn’t say anything for several seconds, but his body slowly relaxed beneath the quilts. “Thank you,” he breathed out as his arm retreated back beneath the bedding.

Andrew nodded once and returned to his own ‘bed’, and flinched when one of the quilts dropped down a few seconds later; since it was cold in the Nest, he was quick to add it to his own pile of blankets.

(It didn’t matter at all that it smelled of Neil, of his soap and shampoo and _Neil_ , and helped Andrew sleep a little better. It was just warm.)

It might be summer and most teams were on break, but morning came soon enough and it was back to practice for the Ravens. Neil appeared better after getting a full night’s sleep and had another smoothie before he went out on court, and whatever reservations Noguchi had about Andrew sitting on the sidelines was kept to himself when his team’s captain showed up in the best shape in the last couple of weeks.

Though the snake man, Masato, gave Andrew a long, lingering look before disappearing back into the Nest.

It was obvious why Neil was captain after watching him out on court – he had the patience to walk the new sophomores through the drills and scrimmages so they learned what Noguchi wanted them to do and how to integrate them with the more experienced players, and the team clearly adored him. He got along well with Wilds and the other assistant coach, and he and Patel functioned as a whole on the court. Andrew might not love Exy, but he could recognize talent when he saw it, and the Ravens were still the best team out there for a reason.

Noguchi and Wilds had Neil focus more on assisting with the training than doing any scrimmaging because of him pushing too hard, but he was still tired by the end of the first practice session. Once he was out of uniform and clean, Andrew, Patel and Bren had him sit down and eat a full breakfast (Andrew was going to grow tired at all the ‘healthy’ options very soon, but at least there was coffee).

“We can’t let the freshmen think that we starve our beloved captain, can we?” Patel said as she shoved a bowl of fruit toward Neil, who had just finished a bowl of oatmeal.

“Sushi at Dan’s this weekend, you know how much you like it. And some frozen yogurt,” Bren offered, as if all of that was some special type of enticement.

Neil sighed and picked up a strawberry. “Just don’t let Matt choose the movies, okay? They make my head hurt.”

“Deal.”

He glanced at Andrew, who was cutting up his egg-white omelet. “You going to be around that long?”

Andrew shrugged. “I’ll check with things back home.” He couldn’t stick around forever, but a few days should be all right.

Dammit, Neil’s smile just then shouldn’t make the lack of cheese and fried food bearable.

Moreau called during afternoon practice, when Neil was huddled with Noguchi and Wilds. “How is he?”

For a moment Andrew considered remaining quiet just to be an asshole, but Moreau was the one to argue for him to be here. “He’s eating again and he slept last night. Noguchi and Wilds are keeping him from working too hard on the court to give him a chance to rest up, and I’ll figure out a way to put a stop to the evening practices for a while.” He had an idea about that. “Why aren’t you here?”

It was Moreau’s turn to be quiet for about a minute. “Because… because I _wan_ t to,” he said, his voice thick with longing. “I even bought a ticket and was ready to leave when Declan asked me if it was the right thing to do, and I realized it was a one-way ticket. I realized then… it would be bad for both of us, that I wouldn’t be helping Neil stand on his own and might even endanger him, and it wouldn’t be good for me, either.” He gave a sad laugh at that. “And anything bad for me is bad for Neil, so….”

If Moreau did anything to upset Ichirou, then the bastard would turn around and use it against Neil in some way – or wouldn’t even have to _do_ anything, really, would just have to _imply_ and Neil would be twisting himself into knots again to appease him in order to keep Jean safe. “So you have Wilds call me. Is that so much better?”

“I don’t know,” Moreau confessed. “But Bren and Marley are there all of the time and you’re making him better. I would think what matters most to Ichirou is Neil getting better.”

That statement was so ridiculous Andrew chose not to answer it; if Ichirou gave a damn about Neil, he wouldn’t resort to a fucking _deal_ where Neil promised his own body in exchange for protection from a psychopath who got off on breaking people.

Moreau seemed to realize that, too, because he sighed. “I know this may seem odd, but in his own way, I think Ichirou cares for Neil. As long as you help him, it should be all right. Just… Marley told me that Bren is watching you, which is good.”

As if Neil wouldn’t gut Andrew if Andrew crossed any lines, but whatever, as long as Bren was their chaperone. Done talking with Valjean, Andrew clicked his tongue. “How goes things with Knox?”

Moreau called him a rude gargoyle and hung up.

Neil may have eaten dinner that evening (steamed fish, rice and pickled vegetables – Andrew was beginning to understand Kevin’s hatred of normal food) but there was no way he was going to practice all night again when there were still shadows beneath his eyes and he tired so easily, let alone he was underweight. So when he headed to the locker room instead of his own room after dinner, Andrew got in his way. “No.”

That earned him a virulent look for his troubles. “We have to-“

“I watched you practice all day, you’re in top form.” If the Ravens played any of the Class I teams then and there, Andrew had no doubt they’d win even with Moreau and the rest of the upperclassmen gone.

“We need to get ready for the freshmen,” Neil continued. “That means-“

“You _are_ ready,” Andrew gritted out. “Keep pushing and you’ll be in no shape to teach them anything.” He didn’t know how Neil had avoided blowing out his muscles at some point, unless he was just so conditioned by then (because of Riko and Tetsuji) to _endure_. “All right, beat me at fighting and you can practice as much as you want,” he offered; out of the corner of his eye he saw Wilds and Patel start at that, but Bren just nodded.

“But… all right.” Neil appeared confused but he quickly accepted. “Uhm, out on court?”

Andrew shrugged to show that he didn’t care where they did it, and Bren texted something on his phone as they made their way onto Evermore’s court. Janna showed up a few minutes later with dummy knives (not Andrew’s preferred choice, but he supposed it was too much to expect that Bren would allow him to fight Neil with real ones even if he wouldn’t harm his friend).

Neil shed his sweatshirt, which left him in a black t-shirt which probably would be form-fitting if he hadn’t lost the weight, and Andrew removed his own hooded jacket which he’d taken to wearing in the cold Nest, which left him in a tank-top and armbands. He forced himself to ignore the way that Neil’s gaze lingered on him for a few seconds and the hint of blush on those sharp cheekbones as he stretched, well aware of Bren watching a few feet way.

Andrew and Neil squared off against each other, ‘weapons’ in hand and standing still, and a few seconds later they were moving; Andrew wasn’t certain who moved first, just that Neil was, as ever, a fast little shit. Still, the striker wasn’t in the best condition because of pushing himself too much and Andrew managed to avoid the slash at his face (note to self – Neil fought dirty as hell) while he lashed out at Neil’s ribs.

Another time and he would have enjoyed it, would have come out of it with (more) bruises and cuts (if the blades had been real), but Neil was running on fumes by that point. Still, Neil was used to taking the hits and lasted longer than Andrew had suspected, and even surprised him with a move involving a hooked ankle and a ‘knife’ flip which he looked forward to showing Renee one day, but a couple of minutes later it ended with Neil on the ground and Andrew only pinning him long enough to knock the knife aside.

He got up before Neil could become panicked (or Bren to take more than a couple of steps their way). “I win so get the hell off court,” he ordered. “No night practices while I’m here.”

“No night practices until the freshmen arrive,” Wilds was quick to demand while Bren gave Neil a hand up. “The team’s in great shape, now give everyone a chance to rest and then you guys can do your overachiever crap.” She stared Neil down until he sighed and nodded, then flashed Andrew a grateful grin.

They returned the dummy blades to Janna and stopped by one of the kitchens to grab something to drink and ‘snacks’ (Andrew would maim for ice cream) before returning to Neil’s room, where they sat on his bed to watch something on his laptop. Andrew refused to watch any Exy games, so after a bit of arguing, they settled on a television show Neil had never seen before, a baking competition. Neil sipped his tea and smiled during the few episodes they caught that night, while Andrew was all too aware of how their shoulders and arms brushed together.

He let Aaron know that he’d be back on Sunday, and spent the next two days watching an awful lot of Exy practice, making sure a stubborn little bird ate enough and got plenty of sleep, and barely was out of Neil’s sight the entire time. It should have been torturous, having Neil so close yet to barely be able to touch him, to finally being near something he actually _wanted_ , someone who made him _feel_ yet was still denied him in so many ways… but just having Neil there, just seeing him somehow made it all right.

Andrew _hated_ emotions and caring about someone (a particular little bird) even more, hated the preposterousness and illogic of it even more, hated how important Neil had become to him and how a simple smile and ‘thank you’ and a small thing like the lessening of shadows around pale blue eyes mattered.

He _hated_ Neil Josten.

He also hated Dan Wilds and the knowing smile she gave him when they arrived at her house on Saturday; Neil at least had handed over the keys to the Maserati to Andrew so he could drive it, and they may have taken the ‘long’ way there so he could revel in the glory of that V8 engine (the prospect of a pro career appeared a bit more palatable when he thought about trading in the GS for a new car).

“There’s several pints of ice cream in the freezer,” Wilds told him as she stepped aside, which meant she got to live a little longer. “And whiskey, though if you’re driving….”

“I’ll be fine,” Andrew assured her, then gave Boyd a flat look as he fussed over Neil; there might be bloodshed that night after all.

Wilds distracted her boyfriend by having him fetch a pint of ice cream and poured some whiskey for Andrew and Bren. There were platters of sushi, as promised, and Wilds put on a couple of improbable Exy-related movies which had Neil, Patel, Boyd and her yelling at the screen and laughing by turns over how badly they mangled the sport while Andrew, Bren and Janna watched on in a mixture of apathy (more him) and bemusement.

It was a good call on Wilds’ part as Neil obviously had a good time, was relaxed and happy with bright eyes and flushed cheeks as he leaned against Patel and fought over pieces of sushi. He seemed almost normal, almost untouched by trauma with the way he clearly trusted Patel and enjoyed the (safe) contact with his friend, the murmured French conversations between them that they didn’t seem to realize they slipped into from time to time.

Yet there was that damn ‘4’ on his cheek and the medallion around his neck, was the way those pale eyes tracked the way people moved around the room and the doors from time to time as if making certain that he could leave at any moment, the fact that he didn’t touch any alcohol and generally stayed out of Boyd’s reach even though he considered him a friend.

There were times when Andrew wondered what the hell they’d do with each other if things ever worked out and they could be together, and then times when he felt that _awful_ spark of hope, such as when they drove back to Edgar Allan in the Maserati. Patel was sprawled in the back of the luxury sedan and busy on her phone while Neil’s hand crept toward Andrew’s on the center console in a clear invitation; he hesitated only a moment before entwining their fingers together.

“ _I wish you didn’t have to go back to Columbia tomorrow_ ,” Neil said in German, his voice so quiet that it could barely be heard over the rumble of the engine.

“ _Aaron’s probably passed out from all the Red Bull he’s consumed while studying_ ,” Andrew said as he ignored that damn tingling in his chest. “ _And you’ll be distracted with other things soon enough_.” Like Moreau and Ichirou and the freshmen.

“ _True. It’s just… this was nice_ ,” Neil admitted. “ _Well, except for you calling me an idiot all the time_.”

“ _Because you are_ ,” Andrew assured him, which led to them bickering the rest of the way back to campus.

He shouldn’t have enjoyed it so much – Bee must have broken him somewhere along the line.

He really hated Neil when he had to leave the next day, Neil and Wilds and Bee, and himself most of all. Things were so much easier when he hadn’t felt anything, when he told himself that there was nothing he wanted.

What the _hell_ had he been thinking, when he made that deal with Kevin?

Aaron picked him up at the airport in Columbia and didn’t say a word until they reached home. Andrew was pleased to note that the GS was in the same condition as when he’d left (Aaron had even washed it), and when he came back downstairs after dropping off his bag in his room, his brother had a full glass of whiskey waiting for him.

Aaron waited until the glass was mostly empty to speak. “It’s worth it, you know. Katelyn… I’m happier with her than I’ve ever been.”

Andrew wanted to tell him to shut up, to not mention the ‘K’ word… but all he did was grunt and finish his glass of alcohol, which seemed to encourage his twin. “I mean… I know there’s a lot going on with Josten, that whole Moriyama mess and stuff, but you guys… you keep _going_.” Aaron grimaced and poured more whiskey into Andrew’s empty glass and then some for himself. “Fuck, I don’t… Nicky would be better at this,” he laughed a little when Andrew scoffed, “okay, maybe not, but… I guess I just want to say don’t give up. I don’t know the guy and I never thought I’d talk to _you_ about this shit, but… there’s something there with you two.” When Andrew gave him a level look, he flushed as he gulped down some of the alcohol. “Two psychos happy together or whatever,” he finished in a weak voice.

“About right,” Andrew agreed after he finished his own glass. “Any food left?”

“Hell no. Pizza?”

And things were back to normal. Andrew sent a picture of the large pizza with extra cheese, jalapenos and pineapples (apparently Aaron was trying to eat a little healthier) to Neil as an example of ‘real food’ and received a picture of some spiced chicken with rice dish in return.

Patel assured him that Neil continued to eat and get a (mostly) full night’s sleep, and Neil talked about seeing Moreau that weekend.

Then a couple of days later Patel called in a panic about Ichirou showing up, and Neil and Bren being dragged off to the East Tower.

*******

“Miranda, watch your head when you’re throwing, you’re still leading with it a bit too much and telegraphing where the ball is going,” Neil called out to the sophomore dealer.

“Shit, I thought I’d stopped that,” she said as a flush spread across her face.

“It’s not often, but you do it when you’re tired,” Jake told her. “Come over here, let’s work on that,” the assistant coach offered. “I had the same problem and I’ve a few tricks that might help you.”

Miranda flashed him a grateful smile and went off with him while Neil and Dan gave critique to the rest of the juniors and sophomores and Noguchi worked with the upperclassmen; it was a relief that there wasn’t too much for them to tighten up, but Neil wanted everything as perfect as possible since it wouldn’t be much longer before he’d be busy with the freshmen – that and the other teams would look for any weaknesses they could pick apart.

He hated to admit that he felt better after almost a week of spending the night in bed instead of out on the court and pausing the night-time practices, of forcing himself to eat even if he didn’t feel hungry, though he missed Andrew. It hadn’t even been a week since his friend had left, but those four days that Andrew had been at the Nest had made Neil feel secure in a way that… actually, no, it had been different than having Jean at his side.

It wasn’t the same as his partner, wasn’t looking across the court and knowing that someone had his back, in having that safe presence in bed at night, within arm’s reach almost every moment of the day… but in some ways it had been better. Andrew made Neil _feel_ so much, made the numbness fade away until it was as if he’d woken up from a long, deep sleep.

And now it was back to calls and texts until September, unless Dan could manage to have Andrew ‘visit’ her, along with Matt. Neil hated how his heart raced at that idea.

He was helping Bailey work through a difficult throw when Quentin came running onto the outer court to say something to Bren, which made the bodyguard’s expression become blank. A few seconds later, Bren was pounding on the door to court to warn everyone that he was coming inside before he opened it, then made a bee-line straight to Neil.

“Come on, Red, you’ve got a visitor.” Before Noguchi or Dan could complain, he shot a significant glance up at the East Tower.

“But why-“ Marley shut up when Bren gave her a nasty scowl the same time that Neil shoved his racquet her way.

“Take over with the sophomores, okay?” She’d been helping Noguchi with the upperclassmen, but he could handle them alone. “I’ll… I’ll be back as soon as I can.” He couldn’t promise anything more than that if Ichirou was involved, not when he hadn’t been expecting his lord to arrive at Evermore in the first place.

“Okay.” Yet Marley followed him off of court, clearly intent on asking Quentin what was going on; Neil left her behind as he struggled to keep up with Bren as they went into the locker room and was barely given a couple of minutes to wash off the sweat from practice.

“What’s wrong?” he asked as he dried off and had a change of clothes all but shoved into his face; track pants and a t-shirt.

“I don’t know,” Bren admitted, “just that he’s not happy.”

Shit. Neil yanked on the clothes as quickly as possible and didn’t say anything else, worried that something had happened with Jean.

Ichirou stood in front of the windows looking over Evermore with his back to them as they entered, with Sato standing several feet away. Neil approached the Moriyama lord and gave a deep bow, even though Ichirou didn’t seem to be paying any attention. “ _My lord_ ,” he said in Japanese.

“Nathaniel.” Ichirou turned toward him, his face expressionless, and studied him for several seconds before closing the gap between them. “I’ve been hearing interesting things about you.”

Neil’s back stiffened for a moment before he forced himself to relax; he noticed that Bren edged closer to him as well and managed a slight smile. “Interesting? I don’t understand.”

Ichirou reached out to brush aside a damp lock of hair that had fallen into his eyes. “That you’ve been overworking yourself and not eating properly, which led to Dan Wilds bringing Andrew Minyard here.” His fingers trailed down to Neil’s chin and grasped it hard enough to hurt, yet Neil remained still. “Andrew Minyard was _here_ , with you, for four nights. Yes?”

“Yu-yes.” Why was he angry about that? When the fingers dug in even harder into Neil’s jaw, he fought not to wince. “Yes, my lord,” he struggled to say.

“You let him in your room, Nathaniel, yes?” Ichirou asked, his voice cold and eyes dark. “At night?”

“Yuh-ye-“ Neil didn’t get the word out before his chin was released and he was backhanded with enough force to almost knock him to his knees. He felt blood trickle down his chin as his hair was grabbed, felt the instinctual urge to defend himself which he forced himself to ignore (it was Ichirou, _Ichirou_ ) and then he was smacked again, that time to fall down and there was yelling, so much _yelling_.

His face hurt, his _head_ hurt, there was blood in his mouth yet he forced himself to get up, to look up and moaned to find Bren pointing a gun at an impassive Ichirou’s head and Sato a gun at Bren. “No, _no_!” he shouted as he scrambled toward the two men.

“You’re dead for this,” Ichirou told a grim-faced Bren.

“My job’s to protect _him_ , not you,” Bren argued even as he held the gun steady. “You don’t get to hurt him like that.”

“No, no!” Neil insisted as he got in the way of Sato’s sightline, as he waved his hands as he attempted to defuse the situation. “Not Bren, he didn’t… it’s not his fault!” He gave Ichirou a desperate look. “ _Whatever you want, I’ll swear it! He’s just doing his job! I… not Bren, **please**_!”

“I can’t let this go unanswered,” Ichirou replied in a cold voice.

“ _No_!” Neil struggled to breathe as he fell to his knees and shivered at the thought of Bren dying for him, of how he always seemed to hurt the people who looked after him. His vision darkened around the edges and his hands curled against his chest as he fought to speak, to make things right. “I… an…anything….”

“Kid, don’t you go giving away more of yourself for _me_ , dammit! Not when I’m doing my job,” Bren barked, the gun never moving away from Ichirou’s head. “And he was never alone with Minyard! I slept in the damn room with them myself and Marley or half the damn team was around if I wasn’t, I swear to you! Neil’s kept his word to you the entire time,” he yelled at Ichirou. “Minyard helped to calm him down, for fuck’s sake _! That’s_ why he was here!”

Ichirou regarded Neil for a moment before he told Sato to holster his gun, then he once more reached for Neil; that time he cupped his face, the touch gentle as he stroked his cheeks until his breathe evened out. “ _If I told you to never speak to Minyard again_?” he asked once Neil could stand on his own and was more or less calm.

Neil moaned at that, at the thought of cutting off all contact with Andrew… but he couldn’t let Bren die for him, because of what had happened when he’d been too weak to stand on his own. “ _If that’s what you want, my lord_ ,” he managed to say after a couple of tries.

Ichirou regarded him some more before he stroked his thumb over Neil’s ‘4’ tattoo. “ _For now… promise me you’ll never see him again, outside of playing a game. No arranged meet-ups, no private talks at your social events, only your phone calls since he appears to help you. That is all, Nathaniel, and don’t push beyond that_.”

“ _I promise, my lord_.” Neil felt an awful tearing inside of his chest, felt as if glass shards were being forced into his heart and lungs, but he continued to breathe, to remain upright, to not flinch as Ichirou used a handkerchief to wipe at the blood on his face then give him a soft, lingering kiss.

“I’m sorry,” Ichirou told him as he removed his own suit jacket and draped it over Neil’s shoulders. “Bren is right in that I shouldn’t have treated you like that, but you shouldn’t have allowed Minyard so close even if he was supervised.” He poured Neil a tall glass of whisky and watched him take a sip or two before he turned to the bodyguard. “Right or not, job or not, you still pulled a weapon on me.” He poured another glass of whisky and handed it to the still grim-faced bodyguard. “You understand that there’s a price to pay, yes?”

“But-“

Ichirou waved Neil silent while Bren nodded and drank the alcohol down in one go. “He won’t be killed,” Ichirou ‘assured’ Neil, “but it can’t be said that he did such a thing and didn’t make some sort of reparation.”

“Let’s get it done now, eh?” Bren said as he set the empty glass down.

“Stuart picked a good man to guard his nephew.” Ichirou glanced at Sato, who nodded to his lord and then motioned for Bren to follow him out of the room.

Neil stared at the door that his friend had walked out of until Ichirou touched him on the shoulder; that time he couldn’t hold back on a slight, anxious reaction, which made the older man frown. “ _Finish your drink_.”

“ _Yes, my lord_.” Despite the way his face ached from the blows and the cut on his lip which still bled a little, Neil forced himself to swallow the potent alcohol while Ichirou watched him.

“ _He’ll be all right_ ,” Ichirou assured him; as soon as the glass was empty, he took it from Neil and set it aside. “ _And you_?” He once more caressed Neil’s sore face, which would probably bruise soon if it wasn’t already. “ _I really am sorry I hit you like that_.”

“ _It’s fine_.” Neil smiled as much as he could with his split lip. “ _I’ve been roughed up more in some games_.”

Ichirou’s frown deepened at that and he once more cupped Neil’s face between his hands. “ _Such a violent sport. You deal with that and then I add to it_.”

“ _It’s fine_ ,” Neil forced himself to say. “ _At least you apologized to me. No one else does_.”

“ _Nathaniel… never do such a thing again_.” Ichirou tugged Neil closer then slid his fingers into Neil’s hair. “ _You’re **mine** , and I don’t care for the thought of anyone else touching you, do you understand_?”

Ichirou had never so explicitly said such a thing before (yes, Neil belonged to him, but that had been in a ‘general’ sense), and in a way Neil supposed he should be grateful – no more fears of anyone else touching him, no more- he only had to deal with Ichirou. But it made what he’d begun to hope for with Andrew a bittersweet fantasy he’d never realize, dead before it was ever really born, made the agony in his chest flare so strong that he couldn’t breathe for a second or two before he forced out the words he knew Ichirou wanted to hear. “ _Yes, my lord_.” Then he tilted up his face for a kiss.

He ‘lost’ himself more than usual that time, went inward and let his body react to whatever Ichirou did to it, whatever Ichirou wanted to do to it. His lord appeared intent to be gentle that time, to make him feel pleasure, when all Neil wanted was an end to the tearing sensation inside of him.

He just wanted to be entirely numb.

Apparently, he reacted well enough to make Ichirou happy because eventually the man was satisfied that everything was all right between them again. He fussed over Neil’s face before allowing him to reach for his clothes and told him that he’d leave for New York the next afternoon, a day earlier than expected.

Neil didn’t complain about the time away from practice, he just smiled despite the pain and said he’d see Ichirou tomorrow.

The first thing he did when he stepped out into the hallway was search for Bren, and felt his stomach flip when he caught sight of his friend slumped against the wall, disheveled and pale and lacking his black jacket – and sporting white bandages on his left hand. “What happened?” Neil stumbled over to him, which caused Bren to straighten up.

There was a strong reek of alcohol to the bodyguard and his eyes were bloodshot, along with a couple of spots of blood on the bandages on the outer part of his hand. “Hey, Red.” Bren’s deep voice was hoarse and he winced when he moved his hand, which he held cradled against his chest. “You look… fuck, you look like hell.”

_Neil_ looked like hell? “What did they do to you?” he demanded as he made an aborted motion at Bren’s hand. “What did… what happened to your hand?” For a moment he thought about Riko and Kevin Day and feared that it was broken.

Bren gave a mirthless laugh as he pushed away from the wall. “It’s nothin’,” he slurred. “Jus’ a yakza… yakuza thing.” While Neil stared at him in confusion, he made a chopping motion through the air with his right hand. “Real quick an’ all’s forgiven, they say.”

“Yakuza?” Neil felt sick as he remembered how some of Ichirou’s men were missing part of their fingers, how they’d lost them for various ‘mistakes’ or failures. “Oh Bren, _no_.” He started hyperventilating at the thought that his friend had been maimed because of him.

“Fuck, _fuck_.” Bren wavered on his feet as he reached for Neil and gave him a ginger pat on the shoulders. “No, Red, _don’t_. It’s… it’s okay. Still got my head, yeah? It’s _okay_.”

When Neil kept panting, Bren cursed and dragged him into the elevator, both of them stumbling along the hall and all but falling into it. Neil knelt on the plush carpet and threw up bile as he struggled to breathe while Bren hovered around him; from a distance he heard his friend speak but the words didn’t make any sense.

Then Marley was kneeling in front of him and it was the sound of her crying that made him look up, made him stop rocking back and forth and focus on her saying his name. He realized that Janna and Dan were in the elevator, too, Janna appearing weary and Dan furious, and he allowed Marley to help him stand up and take him back to their room while Janna led Bren away.

He thought that Dan might have said something, but Quentin had been outside of the elevator and said something to make her fall silent, which was good because Neil… he didn’t want to talk and he especially didn’t want to think. All he wanted was to scrub himself clean, which he did (with Marley standing nearby with her back to him the entire time) and then crawl into bed.

He remembered the feel of Marley’s fingers in his hair before he passed out.

She was back in her own bed when he woke up in the morning, but shot up as soon as he stirred. “Are you… are you all right?” she asked as she hurried over to join him on his, worried etched on her face as she helped him to sit up. “How are you feeling?”

Neil winced as he prodded at his sore lip, but he hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d told Ichirou that he’d received worse hits while playing Exy (granted, that had been from Riko, but still). “Tired,” he admitted. The numbness was still there, but he was considering that a good thing. “How’s Bren?”

Marley blinked back tears for a few seconds. “Not so bad.” She gave him a wan smile and held up her phone to show some texts exchanged with Janna. “Janna’s been taking care of him and is ready to beat him up since he’s a whiny bastard.” When Neil gave her a blank look in return for that, she sighed. “He’s doing all right, it seems. The, uhm, cut was clean and tended to already so Janna didn’t have to do too much.” When all Neil did was gaze at her, she sighed again. “Oh sweetie, _don’t_ , okay? Don’t blame yourself for this, Bren explained everything and said how you stood up for him, how he expected to get in trouble for stopping that fucking corpse-defiler for hurting you. He’s actually surprised that’s all that they did to him.”

Neil closed his eyes and went to rub his face before he remembered about the bruises. “He lost a finger because of me.”

“He’s not blaming you,” Marley stressed, then gave his leg a tentative touch. “He said you argued with Ichirou about him. What… did you do anything?”

He smiled a little at the question, the expression sardonic. “You know why Ichirou was upset, don’t you?” He opened his eyes to see Marley wince. “It was because of Andrew being here.”

Her brown eyes went wide as if she just realized something. “Oh Neil, tell me he didn’t make you promise something about Andrew.”

“I’m not to see him anymore,” he said with a slight nod. “I can still talk to him, but not in person, and I get the feeling it’s a ‘for now’ thing.”

Anger flashed over Marley’s face, a rare, thunderous anger. “That fucking… argh!” She smacked her fists into the mattress as she looked ready to murder someone. “Seriously? He made you promise not to see Andrew again because of Bren? And you agreed?”

“Yeah.” Neil slumped down against the pillows. “I wasn’t going to let Bren be killed because he thought he needed to protect me.”

Marley’s anger evaporated at that, the reminder of how much power Ichirou held over Neil. “You shouldn’t have to have done anything like that in the first place, you beautiful fool.” She settled next to him and gave him a one-armed hug. “Okay, we’ll figure something out, this isn’t the end of things.”

It was as far as Neil was concerned – he’d given his word and he wasn’t going to risk Bren’s life, wasn’t going to watch his friend be chopped up piece by piece as he ‘tested’ Ichirou’s patience. “Come on, we need to get ready for practice,” was all he said instead.

“Aren’t you going to call Andrew? He has to be waiting to hear from you.”

“Not… not now.” Neil wasn’t ready to deal with admitting to his friend that he’d ‘done something stupid’, to hear Andrew’s opinion on Ichirou and everything that had happened just then.

To learn that there would never be anything between them but funny pictures and snarky calls and facing off with each other on the court, after all. He needed a little longer for the numbness to set, to accept the new reality.

Hope was such an awful, destructive thing.

Bren was there at practice with a new bandage on his left hand and a smile on his face, and Neil knew that each time he looked at his friend he’d be reminded of the fact that Ichirou owned him, that the leash was that much tighter around his neck. He didn’t hate Bren or blame the man for anything – it was good, in a way. It would keep him from ever daring to hope again, to be stupid and imagine things he couldn’t have.

It would keep him from feeling again.

He had Jean and Marley and Bren and Stuart, and that was enough. He had the Ravens for another two years and then he’d have the Barons.

He had Exy.

He had, he supposed, Ichirou.

He made it through the day’s sessions with Marley hovering around him and Dan fussing too much (he knew she wanted to talk about the night before but he didn’t so… they didn’t), and once he’d showered, changed (and had a fresh layer of makeup on to hide the bruises), was off to the airport so he and Bren could fly to New York.

Stuart was waiting for them once they landed and gave him a gruff hug. “Thank you,” he said before leading them to the SUV waiting nearby. “You… thanks for stepping in like that.”

“Bren didn’t do anything wrong,” Neil insisted while his friend shifted behind him.

“No, but there’s a difference between him answering to me and him answering to the little lord. Sometimes the right call doesn’t mean you get a reward, not in this world.” There was a grim look on Stuart’s face as he spoke, but he sounded more resigned than anything and Bren nodded. “Still, you looked out for one of your own, and we remember that.”

Because Bren looked out for him, but Neil didn’t have the strength to argue just then.

At least Ichirou allowed him to spend the night with Jean, which he desperately needed, in the apartment which would soon be his home. His friend was furious when he learned about what had happened, angry enough to throw a mug of his precious coffee and then enfold Neil in a hug. “ _I should still be there_ ,” he said as he buried his face in Neil’s hair.

Neil wished that was true, wished it more than almost anything as he clung to Jean’s strong back and felt a prickle develop in his throat, yet he shook his head. “ _This is where you belong now_.”

“ _If I was there then this wouldn’t have happened, it_ -“

“ _No_.” Neil shook his head harder as he leaned back to look at his friend. “ _It would have happened later_.” He was certain of that – he and Andrew would have continued to meet up and at some point it would have provoked the same response. “ _Now tell me about Knox_ ,” he insisted, unwilling to talk about ‘it’ any longer. “ _How are things going_?” He felt a little bad to interrupt their visit, but he desperately needed some time with his friend just then.

A slight flush spread across Jean’s handsome face, which made Neil smile in earnest. “ _Ah… well? I think?_ ” Then Jean took to scowling. “ _He’s always asking questions and going ‘do you like this?’ ‘Is this all right?’. I feel as if I’m being interrogated_.”

“ _Tell me more_.” Neil urged his friend to go over the past week while they cleaned up the broken mug and made themselves some more drinks, and spent the night curled up on the couch together talking and taking comfort in being near each other.

“ _Talk to Andrew_ ,” Jean urged him the next morning, after their run in Central Park. _“I don’t think he’s going to see this as an end to things_.”

“ _But it is_ ,” Neil argued. “ _There’s no point to it anymore_.” Somehow, he suspected that Jean knew that Andrew had become more than just a friend to him. “ _Not if all we can do is talk_.”

“ _Stubborn British devils sent to torment me_ ,” Jean muttered as he brewed himself another fancy espresso. “ _Talk to him. If you haven’t driven him away with your foolishness by now, I can’t see him giving up over this_.”

Neil gave his partner a rude gesture and told him to have a fun time being ‘interrogated’ by Surfer boy, then went to get ready for Bren to pick him up. On the way to the Lowell, he dialed the number that he’d snuck off of Jean’s phone earlier that morning.

“Uhm, hello?” Jeremy Knox sounded understandably confused.

“This is Neil Josten.”

“Oh. _Oh_ , hi! So, uhm, are you done visiting Jean now?”

“Yes, he’s all yours again, so to speak,” Neil said. “I appreciate you taking a night off so I could see him.”

Knox laughed a little, as cheerful as ever. “That’s fine, after hanging with Susan for the past year I understand you Ravens better and how important your partners are to you. That and he talks about you constantly, you mean a lot to him. It makes me a bit jealous, you know.” There was a slight edge to that statement.

Considering that it wasn’t a long drive to the hotel, Neil decided to be a bit blunt. “Look, let me be upfront here. Jean and I are partners only in a platonic sense, so there’s no worry for you there. I think that would have been rather clear by now considering you’re hanging out with him right now.”

“Okay. Wow, thanks.” Knox sounded a little taken aback by that, but happy.

“That said, you hurt him in any way? I will hurt you a thousand times worse, are we clear? You’ll be lucky if you’ll ever be able to pick up an Exy racquet again, let alone walk,” Neil promised, while Bren nodded along and cracked the knuckles on his left hand.

Knox was quiet for a few seconds. “You’re definitely a Raven.” The edge was back in his voice. “But there’s nothing for you to worry about.”

“I worry a lot about Jean,” Neil insisted. “It’s a partner thing.”

“Again, you’ve _nothing_ to worry about.” Knox let out a slow breath. “I just… I just want to make him happy, okay? There’s something about Jean, I can’t… I’ve noticed him the moment I saw him and… yeah, he’s gorgeous but I just want to see him smile and be the person who makes him happy.” He laughed, the sound a bit wistful. “I’m an idiot telling you this, right?”

Perhaps, but Jean deserved an idiot who wanted to make him happy. “Then stop treating him as if he’ll break and stop with the thousand questions. Just… be normal around him, stop being so indecisive,” Neil advised. “He deserves normal.”

“All right.” Now Knox sounded determined. “I was trying to let him choose so he didn’t feel pressured but I can do ‘normal’. _Thank you_.”

“Treat him right or I break you,” Neil reminded the man before he hung up, unwilling to deal with a grateful Knox just then.

He was putting away his phone when Bren cleared his throat. “Seems to me there’s some good advice for you in there, Red.”

“No, there _isn’t_ ,” he said in a cold voice. “Don’t go there, Bren.”

Bren glanced at him through the rearview mirror and appeared ready to say something else, but they’d reached the hotel at that point so he just shook his head and remained quiet.

That was fine with Neil; this was his life now – he’d finally accepted it and was going to stop fighting. No more hoping, no more wishing, no struggling against his fate. He had to be strong, had to be like his mother, had to bear everything and stop breaking down. He got to play Exy and had people around him whom he trusted, whom he cared for, so it was better than he’d ever expected. It was enough.

He stayed in Ichirou’s suite, in Ichirou’s room (in Ichirou’s bed) for the next three days (three nights), translating conversations and documents and feeling like a doll on display as he sat or stood near the Moriyama lord whenever Ichirou was present, the eyes of Ichirou’s people intent upon him.

There were gifts of expensive clothes and elaborate meals where Neil pulled on a fake mask to put Ichirou at ease, to placate the confusing guilt the man seemed to hold because of him (he was a belonging, was property bought several times over by that point); he smiled and teased and bantered until Ichirou stopped fussing over his hidden bruises and swollen lower lip.

Ichirou was still gentle and extra-attentive during the sex, which Neil assumed was better than the alternative. All he cared about was when it was over and he could try to sleep.

Monday was an early morning flight back to Edgar Allan, and he missed just a little of the first practice session, which was good because it was only two weeks until the freshmen arrived. He threw himself into the scrimmages and avoided dealing directly with Dan until lunchtime.

“Are you going to tell me what the hell went on last week?” she asked, her face flushed with anger as she stared at him – at the fading bruises on his face.

“No,” Neil answered without any hesitation between bites of rice while Marley watched on anxiously.

“Dammit, Neil!” Dan seemed to struggle to control her emotions for a couple of seconds and let out a slow breath. “Does this have anything to do with-“

“I warned you to stay out of anything Moriyama-related,” he said as he reached for his glass of water. “And that’s it, that’s all you get so drop it.”

“But-“

“ _No_.” He stared her down before having a drink and resuming his meal; after a few seconds something akin to guilt flashed across her face.

“We were trying to help.” When he continued to eat and didn’t say anything, she rubbed at her face. “Call Andrew, all right? I’m tired of him hounding me for answers.” Then she got up and walked away.

“You should, you know,” Marley chided him, and shook her head when he didn’t say anything. “You really are a stubborn devil.”

Despite everything, Neil smiled, just a little, at the familiar insult.

He finally listened the torrent of advice that evening when he and Bren retreated to the East Tower; there were over a dozen messages and texts from Andrew on his phone which he’d ignored, unwilling to deal with things until then. Feeling an unsettling sense of apprehension, he dialed his friend’s number and waited while it rang a couple of times.

“Finally.” Andrew sounded distant, which Neil supposed was only fair.

“Sorry,” Neil breathed out as he fought not to fidget and curled up on the couch instead; Bren poured two glasses of whisky and handed him one, which he accepted. “It’s… not good.”

“So I hear, according to Patel. _She’s_ had the courtesy to call me, at least.” There was a hint of reproach in Andrew’s deep voice, which made Neil drain the glass of alcohol before he spoke again.

“And? What did she tell you?”

Andrew hesitated for a moment before he answered. “That the insecure little prick lived up to his name and used Bren to get another foolish promise out of you.”

Neil nearly threw the glass upon hearing how his friend phrased what had happened last week, but Bren must have guessed that from the emotions on his face and snatched it away in time. “Dammit, that- it wasn’t ‘foolish’, me keeping Bren alive!” Bren gave him a sharp look at that and went back to the bar to refill the glass. “It-“

“No, the foolish thing was Bren not blowing the bastard’s brains out when he had the chance,” Andrew said with an unusual amount of venom. “A lot of problems would be solved, then.”

Neil actually laughed at that ‘solution’. “Yeah, we’d all be dead, but why not? Big improvement.” He accepted the glass and closed his eyes as he gulped down the potent alcohol while Bren murmured ‘fuck no, Red’.

Andrew was quiet again for a moment before he sighed. “Don’t tell me that you believe it.”

A shudder ran through Neil as he handed back the empty glass, the whisky a molten warmth burning through him. “I… no, not quite, but it’s all gone now,” he admitted to Andrew. “He’s taken everything away.” Then he laughed, a rough rasp that was more like a quiet cough. “I don’t have anything left to give so everyone better take care from now on.” Well, he supposed he could offer up an organ or two.

“Neil… listen to me,” Andrew told him, his voice deeper with something almost like suppressed emotion, with something that made Neil shiver as he struggled to put a name to it. “I… I was once where you are now, was convinced I’d given away everything I’d had, that there was nothing left to want or hope for.”

Neil waited for his friend to continue and, after a couple of seconds prompted him. “And?”

“And I was proven wrong,” Andrew admitted. “And I’m much smarter than a foolish little bird, so of course _you’re_ going to be proven wrong.”

That time Neil’s laugh wasn’t so rough. “You’re an asshole.” Still, something about Andrew made Neil not want to be so thoroughly numb anymore.

“Better than being a martyr idiot.”

Andrew didn’t make Neil any promises, didn’t say that one day they’d be together or anything insane like that, he just told Neil that bit of honesty and it was enough. Then he made Neil swear to keep calling him, to not be a fucking idiot and make Ichirou happy by ‘disappearing’ for a few days again, and it… it was enough. For some reason anything to do with Andrew was ‘enough’.

Neil knew that his mother would beat him until his ears rang from her blows, would yank on his hair and dig her nails in until he bled over him being so stupid, but he couldn’t quite give up on Andrew.

That evening he skipped the knife practice with Bren because of his friend’s healing hand and all the whisky, but a routine soon developed as the summer progressed; practice during the week and spare time up in the East Tower with Bren (and calls with Andrew and Jean when his partner had the time), and weekends in New York with Jean and Ichirou. He usually spent one night with Jean and the rest with Ichirou (with a few excursions for ad campaigns and interviews, sometimes with Marley tagging along), and even had the occasional weekday night in the city. It was a hectic schedule, especially when the freshmen arrived at the start of June.

He grew used to the low level sense of fatigue, the constant monitoring from Marley and Dan, but he did his best to sleep and forced himself to eat so he didn’t let everyone down again (so they didn’t do something like bring Andrew back to Edgar Allan). He grew used to never having much time to himself anymore, to either being out on court or with Ichirou.

Someone (one of Cabrera’s men) called him ‘Mrs. Moriyama’ one night and was punched by Bren in return. Neil felt like laughing when he thought about that the following Monday, about the contempt in the man’s voice, and the open admiration on their faces as when he walked the latest batch of freshmen (Teagan Novice and Allie Maddox, both strikers, Kinley Smith, an offensive dealer and Dominic Ward, a backliner) through the first drill).

“So who’s it going to be this year, vice-captain?” he asked his partner as Kinley fumbled her way through the drill. “Your latest batch of lackeys?” Despite all of the changes in the past year, the Ravens themselves seemed determined to keep the ‘freshmen must put in their dues’ system (within acceptable limits, closely monitored by Dan).

Marley grinned, the expression predatory as hell as she twirled her racquet between her hands. “I think… Teagan and Dom,” she decided.

“Lucky them.”

“I know!” Marley laughed in delight, then stalked forward to correct Kinley’s hold on her racquet.

“It’s all so unreal at times, thinking that I was remotely that young and raw,” Neil admitted to Jean one night in their apartment as they sat out on the balcony. “They’re so trusting, so… so _open_.” He gnawed on his bottom lip as he thought about the freshmen, about how they hung on his every word, how they allowed all their emotions to show on their faces and acted as if it was the best thing to happen to them, being at Edgar Allan (even after the previous summer, after their parents’ reservations). “Sometimes I feel like I’m a completely different species than them.”

Jean nodded in understanding. “I feel the same with the Barons. At least there’s a few Ravens there, but… so many of them don’t understand why we want to get the passes down perfectly or not leave until everyone grasps the new line-up.” His face scrunched up in frustration and he mostly managed a New York accent. “’It’s just a job’. Bah. Then they go on about their stats being down and worry about how they might be traded if they don’t do well this season.”

They didn’t understand being pushed to be perfect, the _need_ to be perfect because it was indeed ‘more than a job’. At least Neil loved Exy and probably would feel the urge to succeed even if he didn’t have the threat of failure looming over his head.

Still, he felt so old when he dealt with the freshmen, felt so drained when he heard Ethan and Brian and Teresa talk about their plans for the weekend while he checked his phone to see when he’d be flying back to New York.

He’d rather be out on court, sore and covered with bruises and sweat from being slammed around for hours than translating yet another ‘business’ transaction in some extravagant hotel room or private box or high-rise office. To stand there as another death sentence was handed out (or watch it without making a sound) – or worse, to be the one to inform Ichirou about the betrayal as he listened to the taped calls or read the intercepted emails. Ichirou may be the lord, but there were always those who sought to take that title from him. To take away anything of value from him.

It was a Saturday night and Neil was already exhausted, was tired from the shoot he’d done for Nike earlier that day, and it promised to be a long night as Ichirou and about half a dozen of his lieutenants were gathered at what appeared to be a party hosted by Lebedev, an associate of Mikhailov’s. There was a lot of alcohol and fancy appetizers (with people partaking in the first but not so much the second), and Bren was barely more than a foot or two away from Neil’s back at all times while he translated between Russian, Japanese and Spanish for Ichirou (which didn’t help with the exhaustion he felt).

He just wanted to return to the hotel and sleep (unlikely, considering the way that Ichirou’s left hand would stroke along his hip and back from time to time), and took to glancing around the room as both a distraction and a way to stay awake. That was what made him notice how Cabrera and several of his men appeared to be staring a bit too much at Ichirou (he was used to the way the man would stare him down at that point).

So when the lanky, middle-aged lieutenant approached Ichirou while flanked with two of his men, all of them with their dominant hands hovering around the front of their suit jackets, Neil stiffened and picked up the glass of vodka that he’d set aside almost an hour ago. He noticed that Bren also went on alert, and as soon as the men neared with their hands slipping into their jackets, Neil threw his drink on the enforcer who was closest and yelled out a warning.

Bren took care of another while Stuart grabbed Ichirou and pulled him to safety, but Cabrera latched onto Neil and wrapped an arm around his upper chest while holding a knife to his throat. “I leave here or your toy dies,” he shouted as a plethora of guns were pointed in his direction.

Ichirou shook free of Stuart’s hold and directed that chilling look of his at his traitorous lieutenant. “You’re just prolonging your death.”

“Not as long as I have this one, no?” Cabrera tapped the knife against Neil’s right cheek while Neil slowly snuck his right hand into the pocket of his dress pants, aware that he didn’t see Bren anywhere. “I think you’ll give anything to get him back in one piece.” He tugged on the medallion hanging around Neil’s neck. “Don’t try to lie, we’ve all seen you fawning over him.”

Ichirou’s jaw clenched and his hands tightened into fists. “I-“

Before he could continue, Neil slipped the knife free and jammed it Cabrera’s thigh, which made the man shriek in agony and the weapon held against his face to skitter down the side of his cheek. Gritting his teeth against the pain, he wrenched himself free just as Bren shot the bastard in the head.

There was ringing in his ears from the bullet’s discharge and then Bren pressing a cloth against his face, were people running around and shouting, were men gathered around Ichirou and the stench of blood (and worse). Stuart said something to Bren, more hand motions than words and Neil found himself picked up by his large friend as if he were a child, and the last thing he saw before he was carried out of the room was Ichirou’s grief-stricken face.

*******

Andrew stared at his phone as if he could will it to ring, to announce a message from Neil or Patel or Wilds, from someone associated with Neil; no one had answered him after the news had reported that Neil Josten, captain and starting striker for the Edgar Allan Ravens, had been in a ‘minor’ car accident over the weekend and sustained facial injuries.

Right, and Andrew had a happy, perfect childhood and was a well-adjusted human being with no issues whatsoever. He just played for the Foxes because he loved Exy _so much_.

He flicked a cigarette out into the air when he heard the door leading out onto the roof open, admitting one Meg Curtis. She approached with caution (not so dumb) and sat down on the ledge a few feet away (no fear of heights for this former little bird). “You hear anything yet?” When he gave her a blank look, she sighed. “No luck for me, either,” she admitted. “Marley only ever clamps down like this if it’s something to do with Ichirou or the Moriyamas.”

Andrew snorted at that because he already knew it had to do with Ichirou Moriyama, he just didn’t know what that bastard had done to Neil this _time_. When he remained quiet, Curtis fidgeted with the end of her ponytail and tried something different. “Robin’s settling in at last, I think. It helps that Coach let her room with me rather than any of the newer girls. Hopefully she’ll feel more secure about being on the team before classes begin – I’m going to start working with her at night, repay all that time Neil and Jean put on the court with me.” Her smile was a bit wistful then.

Andrew continued to give her a blank look until she made a sound of frustration. “I don’t know… I thought maybe you’d be interested in that, might want to help out since Coach told me-“

“I merely thought she might fit in here,” Andrew said, annoyed that Wymack was meddling, as usual; all he’d done was leave the man some information on the girl, dammit, it wasn’t like he’d pulled a Kevin and harangued Wymack until she’d been recruited. “It’s up to her if she makes it or not.”

It was Curtis’ turn to snort. “Right, because you take an interest in everyone.” She dusted off her hands as she stood up. “I’ll call you as soon as I hear anything about Neil, but think about joining us at court, okay? It’s what _Neil_ would do.”

“Neil’s a fool.”

Curtis’ expression grew sad as she paused a moment before heading to the door. “Perhaps, but there’s many of us who owe him a hell of a lot, and we’ll never forget that.”

And what good had that done Neil in the long run? Andrew could have told him that people didn’t appreciate it when you cut away pieces of yourself for them – except the one little bird who turned you down because he was too busy being a fool martyr himself.

Nicky gave him a hopeful look when he returned to the suite then winced when he didn’t say anything and went straight to the kitchen for a bottle of beer. It looked as if Aaron and Katelyn were out, which was for the best as Andrew wasn’t in the mood to see the two of them together or deal with Katelyn’s attempts to cheer him up.

His cousin had just brought up ordering a pizza for dinner when Andrew’s phone rang with a blocked number of all things. He nearly dropped his second beer of the evening in a hurry to answer it, a disquieting feeling of dread in his stomach upon seeing the screen. “Which asshole are you?”

“His uncle, and nice fucking manners,” Stuart Hatford snapped, his voice rougher than Andrew remembered it as if he’d been chain smoking. “Still a rude little shit, I see.”

Andrew fought the urge to hang up on the bastard and wondered why he had to deal with these people when he just wanted to talk to Neil. “How’s Neil? What happened?”

“He’s fine, doctor thinks there won’t be much of a scar,” Stuart said, which wasn’t much of an answer, was it?

“What. Happened?” Andrew forced out through clenched teeth as he stood up, an anxious Nicky following him to the kitchen where he sought out the bottle of whiskey.

“Right, orders are no one’s to talk, nice to see they’re listening. We don’t want any ‘rumors’ getting out.” Stuart paused to let out a harsh breath as if he was smoking, and Andrew felt an itch for a cigarette himself. “All I’m gonna say is that someone tried something and Nathaniel got in the way. It didn’t turn out too bad, though,” he added in a rush.

“This time,” Andrew said as he slammed down the bottle of whiskey and Nicky skittered back a couple of feet as if to get out of the way.

“Yeah, this time,” Stuart agreed in a tired voice. “Which is where you come in. How far are you willing to go for him, hmm? You seemed awfully ballsy the last time we talked.”

Andrew paused to toss back the shot of alcohol and cleared his throat. “What do I need to do?” Was someone finally willing to take out Ichirou?

“There’s a flight to Chicago that leaves your local airport in an hour and a half. Ticket’s in your name at the Delta counter, someone will pick you up once you arrive.” Stuart then hung up.

_Another_ damn flight. Andrew had one more shot before he turned to Nicky. “I need you to drive me to the airport,” he said as he went to throw a few things in his backpack – he doubted he’d be gone for long, one way or another. Also, Neil better damn well appreciate the fact that he had to keep flying for his ass when _Neil_ was the little bird.

“Uhm… okay.” Nicky glanced down at his outfit – sweatpants and a faded purple t-shirt, and only went to slip on a pair of shoes for once while Andrew reluctantly removed his knives and shoved a change of clothes and a couple of paperbacks along with his phone charger and wallet into his bag. “Just… be careful?”

Andrew gave him a shrug since he couldn’t promise anything, and sent Bee a text that he was off to save an idiot then called Wymack while Nicky drove. “Since when do you think missing summer practice is voluntary?” the man asked.

“It’s a personal emergency.”

“That would be your brother or cousin in a hospital, not you going away for ‘maybe a day or two’, you shitty dwarf. Tell me what’s going on.”

Andrew flicked ash out the window and debated if he should tell the truth or not before he figured ‘why not’. “I’m going to deal with Ichirou Moriyama and try to break Neil Josten free. There may or may not be bloodshed involved.”

The GS swerved a little in its lane while Wymack took to cursing – the man had wanted to know, he should be careful about that stuff by now.

“Dammit, Minyard, I thought we were done with the Moriyamas now!”

“You are, I’m not.” Not as long as Neil was considered property.

There was more cursing while Nicky gave him the anxious side-eye. “Fine, but you’re coming back, all right? And I better not have to bail you out of jail, dammit! Why the _hell_ I thought coaching was a-“

Andrew hung up on the familiar rant.

Nicky clearly had to restrain himself from hugging Andrew when they reached the airport and settled for a quick pat on the shoulder (for which Andrew gave him a cold look) before fleeing while shouting ‘good luck!’, then Andrew went inside to pick up his ticket (first class, how nice). At least he was too distracted by Stuart’s call and what had happened to Neil to care about the fact that he was flying for once.

Surprise, surprise, there was a tall, broad-shouldered British man with dark hair and a glowering presence waiting for Andrew when he reached baggage claim, holding up a sign with his last name. He didn’t bother to share his name, but Andrew wasn’t a fan of social niceties so he followed and slid into the back of the Lexus sedan parked outside, where he proceeded to light up a cigarette and flick the ashes onto the floor.

After about half an hour, they reached the ‘fancy’ section of downtown, judging from all the skyscrapers and high-end stores, with the river in the background. The car pulled into an underground garage and parked, and when Andrew got out, Stuart was waiting for him.

“He give you any trouble?” he asked the driver.

“No,” the younger man said, his British accent a bit thicker.

“Good.” Stuart regarded Andrew for a couple of seconds. “Okay, so you’re willing to jump blindly for Nathaniel, good to know.”

“Yes, but this is where you give me some answers.” Andrew was certain that they were armed, the two men, but he could distract them for a crucial second or two with his bag and disarm at least one of them. “Why bring me here?”

“Not so dumb,” the younger man mumbled, which made Stuart grunt.

“So a few days ago some stupid shit tried to kill Ichirou, but Nathaniel helped put a stop to that,” Stuart explained. “Thing is, Cabrera figured he’d at least barter his way out by taking Nathaniel hostage, maybe even trade him for his life. Again, Nathaniel didn’t go along with things but got injured in the process.” He traced a finger along the outside of the right side of his face. “Thing is? It puts Ichirou in an uncomfortable position, making everyone aware of just how valuable Nathaniel is to him. He can’t have such a vulnerable spot advertised like that, but Nathaniel is an asset in several respects.”

Something raged inside of Andrew at both learning that Neil had been harmed because of Ichirou and might be in continued danger because of the bastard. “So what? He wants him gone? Eliminated? He’s the asshole who made Neil so valuable in the first place!”

“I know that,” Stuart spat. “That’s why you’re here, you shitty runt. You want to help Nathaniel? Then you go up there and you offer Ichirou to take Nathaniel off his hands, to trade him something for my nephew so he saves face and proves to everyone that Nathaniel isn’t his weakness after all, do you hear me? _Do something_!”

That… wasn’t what Andrew had expected to hear; he’d thought that Stuart would prime him to walk up to Ichirou and blow out his brains or something, to take part in some sort of coup. “Why me? Why don’t you do something? He’s your nephew.”

“Because the family already made its bargain with the Moriyamas, we can’t renegotiate.” It looked as if it pained Stuart Hatford to admit that fact.

“You sold yourselves for someone who’s dead, who fucked up her life with bad decisions and left your nephew to suffer because of them,” Andrew scoffed, and gave Hatford a cool look when he had to hold back the younger enforcer.

“You fuckin’ midget, I’ll-“

“Let it go, Davis,” Stuart ordered as shoved the man – Davis – back. “In a way he’s right, so let him say what he wants as long as he agrees to help.” He gazed at Andrew. “Well?”

Andrew clicked his tongue and folded his arms over his chest. “Let’s go.” He didn’t know what he had to offer Ichirou Moriyama – nothing to do with his own family and promises – but he’d soon find out.

“Good.” Stuart nodded once, his shoulders slumped with relief, and motioned Andrew toward an elevator a few dozen feet away that needed an access code to reach one of the top floors. The three of them rode up in silence, with Davis shooting Andrew displeased looks now and then which he ignored.

They reached the second from the top floor and the door opened to reveal a hallway with thick carpet and elegant paintings, and a view of the riverfront. Stuart strode down the hallway as if he was used to all of it and went to the third door, which he opened and stepped through, into a room with several Asian men – half of whom were clearly bodyguards - and one Ichirou Moriyama.

The young Moriyama lord’s smile faltered when he caught sight of Andrew. “This is an unexpected surprise. Is there a reason for this?” While his tone was even, his gaze was cold as he regarded Stuart.

“Andrew Minyard is here to negotiate with you, my lord,” Stuart said with a slight incline of his head before stepping aside.

“And what could he possibly have that I want?” Ichirou asked as he sat back in his chair behind a desk covered with various pieces of paper and a tablet, his expression now curious. “Or is it the other way around?”

“I believe you know exactly who I’m here for,” Andrew said as he stood in front of that desk, uncaring for how the various bodyguard shifted about to watch over him.

For a moment there was a flare of anger in Ichirou’s light brown eyes, a twitch of his fingers, and then he was calm once again. “You’re mistaken, that person isn’t… available. He’s contracted to my family until death.”

Off to the side, Stuart started at that statement then went still, while Andrew played those words around in his head. “’Your family’, you said. It’s my understanding that there’s at least two contracts between you and this person, and I want to renegotiate the one between him and you _personally_ ,” Andrew stressed. Neil had stated several times that he knew too much about the Moriyamas, that he was too valuable to them because of his Exy skills and ability to translate, so Andrew supposed it was too much to strive for to break him free and clear all at once. But if he could negate the deal that Neil had made with _Ichirou_? Then it would be worth it.

It seemed that Ichirou had come to the same realization, especially in light of his people doubting him for being too ‘soft’ because of his feelings for Neil. “As I said, he’s very valuable and I would expect adequate compensation for him. What do you have to offer?”

Somehow, Andrew doubted that the man wanted a used GS and the money left over from Tilda’s life insurance policy. However… however, Ichirou had come after something the one time, hadn’t he? “I’ll be signing for the pros in a few months and have it on good authority that I’m a candidate for Court,” he said while gazing at Ichirou.

That brought out a pleased smile. “Yes, you will, and the Barons will need a goalkeeper,” Ichirou informed him. “You’ll sign the contract and hand over fifty percent of your salary as well as any profits made from endorsement deals.”

“Thirty percent,” Andrew argued, well aware of how much prestige it would bring the Barons to have someone from Court on their team – several players who made Court, considering Moreau and Neil.

“Forty,” Ichirou said in a tone which made it clear that he expected no more bartering. “And you _will_ accept all endorsements that the PR team sends you, Minyard. It’s well-known your disdain for anything PR-related, which will come to an end once you’re a Baron.”

Not a second until then. “Agreed,” he said without any regrets, though the PR thing would be annoying. “When do I sign?”

Ichirou spoke something in Japanese to one of the men, who bowed and left the room. “There will be an informal contract now that will still be binding, and an actual one for the team later this year.”

“Then as soon as I sign, you leave Neil alone,” Andrew told the man, which earned him a harsh look. “Who tells him that he’s free?”

So much anger and possessiveness flashed across Ichirou’s face at the question that Andrew thought for a moment that the deal would be called off, but Ichirou forced out a slow breath and lowered his eyes for a couple of seconds. “I’ll do it tomorrow.”

Andrew almost reminded the bastard that he had no more right to touch Neil, to ever lay a hand on him again, but Stuart cleared his throat and shot him a warning look. “I’ll be the one to tell him about the contract,” he settled on instead.

That made Ichirou’s lips twitch in a parody of a smile. “I almost wish you luck.”

Yes, Andrew had a feeling that things would go well, that particular conversation, never mind that Neil threw himself under the metaphysical bus for everyone else all the time.

All that mattered was that one hurdle was down; Neil might still belong to the Moriyamas, but he no longer was _Ichirou’s_. The gilded cage was exchanged for anklets and jesses, a bit more freedom as long as he returned with some sort of prized catch on a regular basis, as long as he performed his tricks.

Andrew signed the quickly drafted contract which promised that he’d sign the official contract from the Barons and allow the Moriyamas to divert away almost half of his earnings (if Neil and Kevin could get by on so little percent, who was he to complain about sixty?) in exchange to ‘exclusive access’ to one ‘Nathaniel Wesninski/Neil Josten’.

Part of him was utterly disgusted that he was signing a document in regards to another person, which treated Neil as a _belonging_ , but Stuart gave him a grateful look as he handed over the pen and Ichirou one of utter loathing and jealousy.

In the end, all that mattered was that it meant that no one could touch Neil – not even Andrew. All it took was Neil saying ‘no’ and he was free forever, at least in that regard.

As soon as it was signed, Ichirou dismissed Andrew. Stuart bowed to his lord and escorted him from the room, along with Davis. Andrew waited until they were in the elevator to speak the question foremost on his mind. “Will he honor the agreement?”

“He has no choice, not when other people witnessed it,” Stuart admitted as he shook out a cigarette. “There’s the fact that he _had_ to do it in the first place, too. It’s like I said, you gave him the perfect reason to get rid of Nathaniel and still save face – he made money and appeared to put you under his thumb by signing you to a team he owns, and proved to people that he can let Nathaniel go in the end.”

“Just as long as he _does_ let go of Neil.” Andrew foresaw another trip to Edgar Allan in the near future to ensure that Neil was indeed free of a certain asshole.

Stuart waited until he took a long drag on the fancy clove cigarette to respond. “Despite everything… he cares for Nathaniel, it’s why this is such a fucking mess. I think he’s only letting him go because… well, the two of you have some sort of history, yeah? The little lord might not like you, but you’ve looked out for Nathaniel in your own way and he knows you’ll continue to do so.” He stared at the end of his cigarette, his expression worn while Davis gave him a worried look. “It would have been easier for him to get rid of Nathaniel, but he didn’t. That’s why something had to be done quick.”

So the asshole hadn’t put a bullet in Neil’s head, that didn’t make him a good guy, not after he’d nearly broke Neil. “All I care about is that he tells Neil it’s over and he never touches him again. Now get me back to the airport and another first-class ticket home.” He snapped his fingers while he spoke to help speed things up; as much as it wouldn’t break his heart to miss a practice, he had a lot to do before Saturday and a feeling he might need to save his ‘get out of practice’ card for the future.

Stuart took to muttering something about his dead sister and her poor life choices while Davis gave Andrew a dubious look as if he was uncertain about either Andrew’s sanity or existence.

They should be used to such things after dealing with Neil.

*******

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *******  
> Hopefully the ending was worth it?  
> In case the dots didn't connect with Ichirou - he told Neil at the beginning with the deal not to expect anything out of it, that it would be 'no strings', no emotional attachments. Sure, that implied it more on Neil's end, was meant to warn him not to try to emotionally manipulate Ichirou, but it bit Ichirou on the ass. Ichirou fell for Neil and had to do something when it became clear to others as well as Ichirou that he was too 'involved' with Neil and Neil was a weakness, yet Ichirou not only owed Neil for saving him, but he cares for Neil and Neil is valuable/useful. Hence Stuart having Andrew publicly 'offer' to trade for Neil, giving Ichirou an 'out'.
> 
> Uhm... probably more to say here but I'm so tired and people are waiting for this chapter.
> 
> Next chapter... yes, Andrew back at Edgar Allan.
> 
> I am behind on comments, I know! But it was either spend an hour or two answering them or an hour or two writing, so I wrote. Promise to get to them, they make me so happy when I see them.
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are appreciated!  
> *******


	24. Shelter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All right, the last two chapters? The Ravens finished out Neil's third year and Jean's fifth year with another win - they played the Foxes in the final game and won, with the Foxes doing rather well all in all (beating the Trojans for once) but the Ravens continue to be undefeated. Neil had faced some stress over that, in making sure Jean's last season was a success before he left for New York City and the Barons, as well as dealing with Ichirou as the Moriyama lord 'cleans' house and grows more 'attentive'.  
> All of that leads in an increasingly burdened Neil as he takes over as the Ravens' captain during the summer, pushing himself past his limits, to the point that his friends reach out to Andrew and bring him to the Nest to talk some sense into Neil. It helps, but after Andrew leaves, Ichirou shows up to 'talk' to Neil about Andrew being there (thinking that Neil and him did more than 'talk') and lays hands on Neil. Bren intervenes even though he's aware that it might cost him his life (pulling a gun on Ichirou), and Neil begins to panic and promises Ichirou anything if he'll not harm Bren. Ichirou makes Neil swear not to 'see' Andrew anymore other than during games, which Neil agrees to do, and Bren loses part of his one finger as reparation for pulling a gun on Ichirou.  
> It gets rather dark for Neil after that, though Andrew does what he can to keep Neil going. During a party with Ichirou, one of Ichirou's men attempts a coup which Neil and Bren help disrupt and Neil is grabbed as a hostage due to him being Ichirou's lover. Neil is harmed and the coup prevented, but Ichirou realizes that he cares too much for Neil and other people know that fact.  
> Andrew received a call from Stuart asking if he's willing to help Neil and flies off to Chicago, where he basically agrees to sign with the Barons (Ichirou's pro Exy team) once he graduates and hand over 40% of his future earnings in exchange for Ichirou no longer being Neil's lover (in exchange for Neil, really) - Neil is still Moriyama property, still has to play Exy and all, but no one but Andrew has a 'right' to touch him. This saves Ichirou face and proves that he doesn't 'care' so much for Neil anymore and protects Neil.
> 
> Yeah... just a little happening there. I said year four would be big!
> 
> Much thanks to fall-for-the-game for the beta! As for triggers, just reference to past events and dealing with those issues, but nothing new here. I think it's safe to say that if you survived the last chapter, this one should not only be bearable but awwww....  
> *******

*******

“Stop it,” Bren growled and made a swatting motion at Neil’s hand, which he’d just raised to the right side of his face – to where the silicone gel pad covered the healing cut which a _doctor_ of all things had removed the stitches from that morning. “Touch it again and I’ll put a cone on you like a damn cat.”

Marley snickered at that, which made Neil glare at her as well as Bren. “But it feels odd. I don’t know why I have to wear the damn thing, it’s just a cut. It’ll heal fine without it.”

“Because you were told to use ‘em, so put ‘em on each day and leave the damn thing alone,” Bren said, not for the first time and not without a good bit of impatience.

Neil didn’t understand it, didn’t understand the fuss everyone was making over a _scar_ of all things. He had dozens of them all over his body, what was the big deal about one on his face? It wasn’t even that bad of a cut; it ran from his outer cheekbone down near his mouth along the edge of his face and mostly was annoying because of how it hurt to chew anything the first couple of days. Yet Bren had raced him to a nearby hospital where several of the doctors were on the Moriyama payroll and a _plastic surgeon_ had stitched Neil up, with _anesthetic_ and everything.

He’d even been given _pain pills_.

All of that, over a simple cut – he’d had worse from his father when he was seven years old.

Bren hadn’t appreciated it when he’d pointed that out.

“It’s stupid,” he said as he stirred his bowl of fish chowder, still on a mostly liquid diet for another day or two since chewing for too long made his face ache. “It should heal fine now,” he repeated; he knew enough about injuries to make sure it didn’t get infected.

“It’s not stupid, it’s your face, Shorty,” Marley told him with a frown.

“Yeah, exactly. What’s the big deal?” It wasn’t like his face was anything special, so why make him wear the patches and keep him from participating in scrimmages for another two weeks?

Marley and Bren exchanged one of _those_ looks, the ‘he’s an idiot’ one which made him grit his teeth and want to get up and walk away, except Bren hooked a foot into the leg of his chair and pointed a finger at the bowl of chowder in a silent order to ‘eat’. Neil gave him a rude gesture but finished the meal.

He gritted his teeth again when Dan swung by the table to check that he’d eaten and barely resisted the urge to throw the empty bowl at her, well aware that she was doing it out of concern. He didn’t know why his friends cared so much, didn’t know what he’d done to deserve it and struggled with the annoyance and discomfort that their sometimes overbearing affection brought out in him, especially in the last few days.

Things had been so confusing ever since the party in New York and the attempt on Ichirou’s life. Neil hadn’t seen his lord since that night; he’d been taken to the hospital, treated and then flown back to Edgar Allan while still medicated, and by the time he could think straight it seemed that everyone had been under orders from Stuart to say nothing other than Neil and Bren had been in a minor car accident where Neil’s face had been injured by broken glass (which didn’t sound entirely plausible, but he guessed if people were gullible enough to believe that Riko was a ‘nice’ guy for so long, they’d believe anything).

He hadn’t heard from Ichirou other than a text asking if he was all right and wasn’t sure if he’d done anything wrong or not. Stuart had ordered him not to leave Edgar Allan under any circumstances, and Bren was even more of a hovering presence than usual.

The worst thing was that Neil couldn’t even talk to Andrew – he’d been told not to speak to anyone who wasn’t a Raven or a Hatford until Stuart gave him the ‘okay’. He felt the weight of the promise he’d made to his friend to stay in touch, yet he didn’t want to risk endangering Andrew by answering any of the messages left on his phone.

The afternoon practice was another couple of hours spent going over drills with the freshmen while the rest of the Ravens were able to participate in scrimmages; Neil barely worked up a sweat doing a series of drills on his own and looked forward to the evening when he’d be out on the court doing suicide drills while Marley and a few others got in the extra practice.

He was about to join his partner and friends for dinner when Bren appeared at his locker. “Come on, we’re heading up.” The bodyguard motioned toward the East Tower, his expression blank.

Neil froze for a moment as he remembered the last time Ichirou had paid an unexpected visit and racked his brain for any idea of what he’d done wrong, other than complain about taking care of the scar. “All right.” He closed his locker and fell in step beside Bren while doing his best to keep from panicking.

Marley and Janna must have already left for the dining hall, so that was one less thing to worry about, though Neil was sure Ethan or Brian would tell his partner about him heading toward the East Tower as soon as they saw her. “Any idea why he’s here this time?” he asked Bren once they were out of the Red Hall.

“No, just that Stuart said it wasn’t anything bad,” Bren murmured, yet he didn’t appear reassured. “You stay close to me, okay?”

Neil didn’t answer that because if Ichirou ordered him to do something? He had no choice but obey, considering the authority the man held over them both.

He was surprised to find his uncle in the large room with Ichirou, and doubly so when Stuart pulled Bren aside and ordered the bodyguard to step out with him. Bren resisted at first as he glanced at Neil, but Stuart repeated the order and all but dragged Bren along with him while insisting that it was all right.

That left Neil with a quiet Ichirou who stared at him as if he hadn’t seen him in a while, intently and with a strange sort of wistfulness. “ _My lord? Is everything all right_?”

Ichirou didn’t answer at first, instead he went to pour two glasses of whisky and handed one to Neil; when Neil accepted it, he traced a finger lightly near the healing knife wound. “ _I’m told that there will barely be a scar once it finishes healing_.”

Neil shivered a little at the teasing touch. “ _It’s fine, I don’t understand why everyone’s fussing over it_.”

Something dark flashed in Ichirou’s almost golden eyes for a moment. “ _You shouldn’t have been harmed by that man. I want all traces of him erased, especially what he did to you_.”

“ _Yes, my lord_.” Neil bowed his head for a moment and then took a sip of his drink, all the while aware of Ichirou’s still intent regard.

“ _As for your first question… I would say the answer is ‘no’_.” Ichirou had some whisky as he turned away and went to gaze out of the window, his expression troubled. “ _My father was expected to live for at least a few more years, so many in the organization find me too young and inexperienced. They think I’m untested, that I’m unconventional and not Japanese enough._ ” There was a slight quirk to his lips before he had another sip of whisky. “ _Some think I’m too Japanese. Some are against me for ‘betraying’ your father while others feel I should get rid of more of my father’s old vanguard and bring in new blood. Basically, there are those looking for any excuse to take my place_.”

He was quiet while he finished his drink and stared out over Evermore, then turned to regard Neil, who had another nervous sip of whisky to give himself something to do. “ _And then there’s you, Nathaniel_.”

That statement almost made Neil choke on his drink. “ _Me_?”

“ _Yes, you_.” Ichirou set the glass aside and came over to cup Neil’s face. “ _I’ll admit that you started out as a fascination, a pretty distraction and somewhere…._ ” He sighed and closed his eyes for a moment. “ _This weekend has taught me that distractions can be dangerous things_.”

Neil didn’t like the sound of that. “ _I’m sorry, but I can_ -“

Ichirou silenced him with a kiss, a passionate one bordering on desperate. _“I’m ending the agreement between us, Nathaniel._ ”

“No!” Neil dropped the glass as he clutched at Ichirou’s hands. “ _No, my lord! I’ll… I’ll be good_!” he babbled as he pleaded with the Moriyama lord for the sake of his friends, panic building in him with each frantic heartbeat. “ _I’ll be better! I won’t be a bother an_ -“

“ _Hush_ ,” Ichirou chided as he grasped Neil’s chin in one hand and ran fingers through his hair. “ _You’re still one of my people and as such, under my protection, as are your friends. You’ve held up your end of the arrangement and as long as you’re loyal to me, I’ll continue to extend that protection to you and them_.”

“ _But_ ….” Neil struggled to breathe for several seconds, to understand what Ichirou meant by everything. He didn’t want to sleep with Neil anymore? They wouldn’t be lovers? Yet the others were safe? “ _But… I promised you_ …”

“ _I know_.”

“ _You… don’t want me_?” Why still protect Neil and Jean and Marley, then? How did Ichirou benefit from it?

Something akin to pain flashed across Ichirou’s face. “ _It’s better this way. This protects us both_.”

Neil still didn’t understand, but he supposed that Ichirou must benefit from it some way if he was altering the terms of their deal. “ _Yes, my lord_.” As long as the others were safe.

Ichirou let out a ragged breath as his fingers tightened in Neil’s hair. “ _You will always belong to me, Nathaniel. **Never** forget that. One day…. Things don’t always have to be this way_.” He let go of Neil’s chin to rest a hand over the medallion hanging heavy against Neil’s chest.

Before Neil could ask what that meant he was kissed again, just as desperately as before, then Ichirou walked out of the room. Neil stood there for a couple of minutes as he attempted to make sense out of what the hell had just happened and didn’t stir until Bren came in and handed him a fresh glass of whisky.

“Think you can use this, yeah?”

Neil didn’t say anything, he merely drank it all down in one rough go, sputtering a little at the end. “Stuart?” he managed to gasp once he lowered the glass.

“He left with Ichirou but he told me why they were here.” Bren regarded him for a moment before he reached out and pulled Neil into a rough hug. “He said Ichirou had to cut you loose, that people were on him for having a lover he gave a damn about and that it’s best for you, Red. Best for you both, really, but obviously Stuart only gives a damn about you.”

Ichirou cared for him? Neil was only an investment, an arrangement, he didn’t understand. “But… it doesn’t make any sense.”

“Yeah, I thought you might feel that way,” Bren said as he let Neil go and gave him a quick pat on the shoulders. “Just know that you’re all right now, all you have to do is play that game of yours and babble about from time to time.”

That prompted a weak laugh from Neil as he rubbed his suddenly aching eyes. “Thanks. And the others? Jean and Marley? They’re still good, right? I know he said, but-“

“Yeah, they’re golden,” Bren assured him. “We’ll still be watching over them and you. Can’t get rid of us so easily.”

That was all Neil cared about in the end; he wasn’t sure how long Ichirou would ‘cut him loose’, but he’d take the reprieve for as long as it lasted.

He was still tied to the Moriyamas, after all, that much had been made clear. He still bore the ‘4’ on his cheek and was at Evermore, would still play Exy and go wherever Ichirou was to translate upon ‘request’. But no more touches, no more sex, no more having to lie in that bed at night made him feel as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

It had just come too late, he thought as they left the East Tower. A few weeks too late; no more Ichirou yet no Andrew, either. Just when he realized that there was someone he _wanted_ to do those things with (at least try to do those things with), that person was all but banned from his life. He’d never know what it felt like to kiss Andrew, to hold his face between his hands, to run his hands over those muscular arms and shoulders, feel that solid weight against his body.

It surprised Neil, how much that thought hurt. Since there wasn’t anything he could do about it, he focused on telling Marley and Jean the ‘good’ news.

*******

Andrew had Davis (a ‘loquacious’ fellow after his own cold heart) give him a phone number before dropping him off at the airport, and spent the time waiting for his flight sending off a text or two. He didn't receive a reply from Bren that night, but he didn't expect to, not until the bodyguard talked to Stuart and got some time away from Neil.

Not until after _Ichirou_ talked to Neil.

Both Nicky and Aaron were in the car when Andrew stepped outside of Arrivals; he took one look at their anxious faces and shook his head. "Not here," he told them, and smoked on the way back to Fox Tower while they bickered over the music selection. Curtis was leaning against the door of their suite, a rather unpleasant 'welcome home' present, to which he gave a flat look and an 'he's all right now, go away'. Something must have come across in either his tone or expression, because for once she didn't press - much.

"I want a better answer than that, but it can wait ‘til Sunday," she said as she walked away, which was fine with him since he didn't plan to be on campus come the weekend.

Nicky had a glass of whiskey waiting for him and Aaron a stubborn expression on his face as they sat on the couch of the living room when he returned after dumping his bag on the bed, for once Katelyn nowhere in sight (a wise decision considering that 'Moriyama' stuff had occurred). "Okay, tell us that things really are all right," Nicky babbled as he fussed with the leather bracelets on his left wrist. "Neil's fine, right? You're okay? The police aren't about to come banging on the door any minute now? Oh god, do we need alibis? Tell me a good alibi! What were we ‘doing’ all night?"

Aaron shoved a pillow in their frantic cousin's face. "Shut up and let him talk," he ordered with obvious disgust. "Now what happened?" he asked Andrew, who had sat on the one beanbag chair during the mini-panic while drinking. "Why did you have to fly somewhere?"

Andrew saw no reason to withhold the truth from his family - to a certain extent. "Because in exchange for signing with the Barons and giving away a portion of all future earnings, I managed to undo some of the hold Moriyama has over Neil." Nicky gasped while Aaron gave him a narrow look. "He's not entirely free, he's in too deep for that, but he has more... freedom now." It came down to Neil merely working for the Moriyamas and not giving them his entire being anymore.

"You did it," Nicky whispered, his dark eyes glittering as if he was about to cry at any moment. "You got your sweetie."

Before Andrew could grab the bottle of whiskey to refill his glass and wash away the distaste that horrid statement left in his mouth, Aaron snatched it up instead and drank straight from it, then grimaced. "Are you insane?" he all but yelled. "Are _both_ of you? Why am I even asking?" He slammed the bottle down and shook his head while Nicky glared. "Are you missing the point here?"

"But Andrew's got his-"

"Andrew spent what, three and half years keeping Kevin out of those bastards’ hands and then turns around and puts _himself_ in them?" He scowled at Andrew who was busy refilling his glass at last. "And you're _fine_ with that?"

"Yes," Andrew said in an even voice as he gazed at his brother. "It's just money in the end, and I'll have spent seven years playing Exy for you." Aaron flinched at that. "What's another decade or two playing it for Neil? The pay's better now, at least."

"I just... I just hope you know what you're doing," Aaron mumbled, the anger gone as he fidgeted with the hem of his shirt. He appeared relieved when Andrew gave him a slight nod.

Nicky glanced back and forth between them then grinned. "So we're good? We're _good_ ," he decided. "And we're going to celebrate, right? This calls for a celebration! Party at Eden's this-"

"No," Andrew told him. "I'm going to Charleston this weekend." He needed to talk to Neil, to make sure that the Moriyama bastard lived up to his end of their bargain.

"Oh." For a moment Nicky appeared crestfallen, and then he recovered rapidly. "Right, you need to see your swe-"

"Call him that again and you'll lose your tongue," Andrew warned as he got up to fetch his knives.

"Aw come on! You gotta give me something here! 'Significant other' or 'partner' just doesn't sound the same!"

"How about 'fellow psycho'," Aaron offered, which led to Nicky complaining that it wasn't fair, how he was the only romantic out of the three of them.

Andrew sent a text to Bee about meeting up with her tomorrow after practice, and received one back offering him a time and stating that she was happy that 'operation save the idiot' was a success, along with several smiley faces.

Perhaps the universe was showing its displeasure by inflicting Bee upon him, too.

Wymack gave him the once-over at practice in the morning, his dark eyes narrowed and tattooed arms crossed over his broad chest. "Well, glad to see you show up today, and no calls from the police at that."

As if Andrew was amateur enough to get the pigs involved. "About that personal business, Coach. Seems it's ongoing. I may be late on Monday." He'd checked flights to Charleston and it was either leave mid-day on Sunday or on Monday morning, and he wasn't dealing with flying up on Saturday then turning around the next day when he had a few things to settle with Neil - if he thought he could pry a stubborn little bird away from his precious court for a few days, he would, but he'd take as much time as he could.

Oh, it always was _so_ amusing when that one particular vein took to throbbing in Wymack's temple like that. "You lazy little bastard, what makes you think you can just come and go during training season?"

Andrew faked a cough a couple of times, which made Wymack start to grind his teeth together, then gave him a level look. "It's personal business, but I can easily make it so I've a legitimate reason to be out for the rest of the summer."

"Minyard," Wymack growled before he rubbed at his forehead as if he had a headache. "Andrew... this is-"

"How many times have I come through for this motley crew of rejects for you, Coach?" Andrew asked as he cocked his head to the side. "The games I've saved, Kevin?" Among other things.

"It's my understanding that you were compensated for them," Wymack said, then threw his hands into the air when Andrew continued to gaze at him. "What?"

"You go above and beyond for anyone who signs a contract, but screw those who don't? Humanitarian of the year there, Coach." Andrew gave the man a slow clap.

Wymack's jaw clenched as he let out a loud breath before he waved Andrew aside. "You know what? Take all the time you need, you miserable runt. I just feel sorry for Josten since he'll be the one dealing with you." Then he stalked off and barked at the freshmen to get their asses in gear.

It was so nice when people worked with Andrew like that.

Bee had hot chocolate and a triple chocolate bundt cake (from the one local bakery) waiting for Andrew when he stopped by after practice, along with a proud smile. "How did you know?" he asked after he had a few bites of the cake.

"That you were successful? Because you wouldn't have come back until it was done," she told him. "I hear from Abby that you'll be spending time with Neil? David was rather... vocal about it." Her expression bordered on impish as she had a piece of cake, too.

"Yes." He thought about a few things while he finished the dessert and didn't complain when she gave him another slice. "It's not perfect, the solution, but it'll make things better for him. He's not going to be happy with what I did, though."

Bee seemed to think about that for a moment. "Do you want to elaborate?" As always, she never pushed.

"Because it cost me something, and Neil probably thinks he should be the only martyr out there," Andrew said as he stabbed at the cake. At Bee's concerned look, he shook his head. "I'm stuck playing stupid stickball for a while longer," he explained, well aware that she knew enough about the Moriyamas (and Kevin) to read between the lines but unwilling to go into more detail than that.

"Ah, my condolences," she said with a slight nod. "I'm sure you'll survive somehow. Having Neil there will help."

He was quiet as he sipped his hot chocolate, which Bee picked up on, of course. "I see, of course you want to talk about Neil. What's wrong?"

He hated having to put things into words, to confess his fears and _wants_ so openly - especially when they were the same thing. "Maybe I should just leave him alone for a while. He's been through a lot, there's no reason why I should-"

"Andrew." Bee set her mug aside and leaned forward to make him focus on her but not enough to get into his personal space. "You're worried about starting a relationship with Neil?"

He hated _that_ word, too. "It’s _not_ a relationship. Besides, neither of us are going to be any good at such a thing, we've no clue what to do." Not after everything that had been done to them, with their pasts and issues and insecurities.

Bee let out a slow breath and gave him an encouraging smile. "The thing about people and relationships – or not-relationships - is, if everyone waited until they were experts at them or in the perfect places to start them? Almost no one would ever be in one."

"That's awfully trite."

"But it's the truth." Bee leaned back in her chair and adjusted her glasses yet never looked away from Andrew. "You've spent the last two years working hard to get yourself to a place where, if you and Neil could be together, you would be ready.” She paused a moment to give him an encouraging smile. “Andrew? I think you're ready." Before he could argue she shook her head. "I'm not saying that you're perfect or that you don't still have some things to work out, but in my honest opinion? You need to work on them with _Neil._ There's only so much you can do alone and you've done it, now take that next step. I have faith in you."

How nice. "And Neil? What about him?" Andrew hadn't revealed what Ichirou and the others had done to his friend... but Bee was highly intelligent and there had been the whole mess last summer.

She removed her glasses and closed her eyes for a moment before rubbing them and slipping the glasses back on. "Yes, Neil." She gave him a sad look as she picked up her mug. "Are you planning to sleep with him anytime soon?" she asked without any hesitation or modesty. When he gave her a scathing look, she smiled, the expression tinged with sorrow but mostly satisfied. "I didn't think so. In my opinion? Someone like Neil _needs_ a stable relationship, needs someone in his life who can care for him as a person and heal from past... traumas."

"And you think _I'm_ that person? Physician, heal thyself," Andrew told her with all the scorn he could muster.

"I do indeed believe you're that person," Bee said without any sarcasm or doubt. "You may very well be the best person for him, in fact, and he for you."

For once Andrew was left speechless, so he focused on eating the rest of his cake while Bee gave him a knowing look. Then she handed over yet another piece before heating up some leftover lasagna she had in the fridge and talked to him about a new book she was reading while they ate dinner.

He was up on the roof that night when Bren called him, deep voice incredulous. "How the _fuck_ did you pull that off, eh?"

"The asshole was there? How's Neil?" Andrew demanded to know as he flicked aside the cigarette.

Bren paused for a moment, which made Andrew's breath catch in his throat. "Confused as hell," the bodyguard admitted. "I don't think it's really sunk in yet, to be honest."

"What was he told?" What had Ichirou done _that_ time?

"That he doesn't have to fuck that bastard anymore," Bren said, as blunt as always. "Still has to jump when he snaps his fingers, but Neil doesn't give a damn as long his friends are safe - that's all he cares about. He kept going on about Jean and Mo and how he didn't want them hurt by any of this."

Of _course_ the idiot was worried about everyone else; Andrew felt the urge to bang his head against a hard surface for a moment before he let out a slow breath instead. "Ichirou won't touch him anymore, correct?" One thing at a time.

"According to Stuart, no. It's worth losing another finger to make sure he keeps his damn hands to himself from now on."

The man wasn't half-bad. "I'll be there Saturday morning to deal with Neil, there's a flight that'll arrive around the end of his practice. But I'm not putting up with you in the room all night this time," Andrew let Bren know. “Not that I’m planning anything.” Not that the man needed to know _that_ , but Bren was slightly overprotective and Andrew wanted to be able to talk to Neil without him lurking nearby.

It was quiet over the line for a few seconds. "Might be best to get him away from the Nest entirely, too many people around here who mean well but who won't leave you alone."

Andrew had thought about that, but he didn't think Neil wanted to 'come out' just yet and his friend was a bit too recognizable thanks to all those lovely ad campaigns. "He's a little big to smuggle into a hotel room."

"I think we can skip that since I've someplace more private in mind," Bren told him. "There's some property owned by the 'family' that's not used much and is out of the way. You two can stay at the one cabin and I'll be at the other."

"He doesn't need a-"

"No, _nothing's_ changed on that front," Bren insisted. "I'm not gonna interfere with you two, but my job is still to watch after him. He doesn't go _anywhere_ without me."

Andrew clicked his tongue. "Is someone being controlling?"

"Red's still an asset and knows where a lot of bodies are buried, so to speak. Get used to me being around."

As long as Bren was there as a protector and not a jailor.

They talked a little longer as they firmed up plans, and Andrew arranged to send his flight details and anything else he thought he might need over the weekend to Bren. Then he went downstairs to get ready for the final day of practice for the week.

He felt an urge to call Neil, to check up on his little bird, but all he did was send him a text telling the idiot to take care of himself.

Friday seemed to drag on forever, especially with Wymack, Curtis and Yee working with the freshmen while Matheson and Hurst kept making snide remarks to the point that even the rest of the Foxes grew annoyed. “Can you be any more of an asshole, Jack?” Hayes asked his roommate while glaring at the striker.

“Why the hell did Coach even recruit her? She sucks,” Matheson said as he motioned toward Cross, who was struggling through one of the modified Ravens’ drills Curtis had the freshmen working on. “I know he can take on some pity cases but-“ The asshole jumped when Andrew smacked his large racquet against the wall.

When Matheson turned to give him a dirty look, Nicky leaned forward and ‘smiled’ at him, a baring of teeth lacking all of his usual warmth. “Yeah, Coach sure can do that – I mean, he recruited _you_ , didn’t he?”

“You fucking-“

Andrew swung his racquet at Matheson before the mentally-challenged loser could finish that sentence and end up short a good many teeth and gave him a cold look. Meanwhile, Hayes laughed while Nicky and Aaron grinned in amusement.

“Oh man, he got you there! Good one, Nick!” Hayes held up his hand for Nicky to high-five him, which of course Nicky was only too happy to do. After Matheson and Hurst stalked off to do their insulting somewhere else (where no one else could overhear them), Andrew watched Cross and had to admit that they somewhat had a point; the girl was too tentative and lacked both drive and skill. She wasn’t completely hopeless, but she didn’t appear to have the ambition that had propelled Neil from a nobody to the best striker in Class I (now that Kevin had graduated) in three years, that had let Curtis move on from something that might have crushed another player yet was now a captain in her junior year.

Someone needed to decide soon if they were a fighter or a scared little rabbit.

Still, Andrew’s plate was full at the moment with a certain little bird, who was once again throwing himself into Exy to deal with his stress (that was growing more than a little tiresome), according to Bren. One more day, Andrew told himself, and gave Wymack a pointed look and a two-fingered salute goodbye when practice finally came to an end that afternoon.

There were some confused looks when Wymack gave him the finger in return, but Andrew didn’t care, especially when the man ruined the whole ‘tough guy’ routine by sending him a text later telling him to call if there were any problems at Edgar Allan.

The night was spent eating take-out and drinking while half-buried in the beanbag chair as Katelyn cheered on Aaron against Nicky during an ‘impromptu’ gaming tournament; Andrew knew his family was being loud and obnoxious and close by on purpose to keep him company (and distracted) before he left the next morning, to help while away the hours when he would otherwise spend the time chain smoking up on the roof. They were stupid and annoying and cloying… but they were his ( _not_ Katelyn, but he appeared stuck with the pest until Aaron came to his senses).

 Janna was waiting for him that time when he left the Charleston airport, which Andrew supposed made sense since Neil was still on court practicing, along with Wilds. “How is he?” he asked the bodyguard, who gave him a curt nod in welcome and went back to the driver’s side of the luxury SUV.

“Not as bad as the last time you visited, but he’ll get there soon enough,” Janna admitted as she accelerated into traffic. “It’s as if he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop – he’s anxious and knows something’s not right, but he can’t do anything about it, especially since Ichirou ‘ended’ things with him. So he’s losing himself in the one thing he can count on.”

It sounded as if she had a good grasp on Neil, but then again, she’d been watching him for over two years. “’Not as bad’ I can work with,” Andrew said as he lit a cigarette.

“So you hope.” Janna frowned at him before pulling onto the highway. “Those aren’t good for you.”

Andrew arched an eyebrow at that, considering that a woman who worked for the mafia and had probably _killed_ people (she certainly had offered to kill _him_ ) was giving him grief about smoking. She noticed and shook her head. “It’s not good for _Neil_. You might not care, but none of the Ravens smoke. They take their health seriously.”

Ah yes, that old song, chirp chirp; Andrew thought he’d heard the last of it when the disgustingly healthy (except in regards to one’s liver) Kevin Day had toddled off to Houston. “My knives?” he asked to change the boring topic.

“Glove compartment.”

The ‘nasty’ cigarette clasped firm between his lips, Andrew opened the glove compartment and retrieved the folded piece of pliable leather which held the knives that he’d asked Bren to obtain for him; he couldn’t bring his own with him on a plane and driving would take too long, so he’d need a set for when he arrived at Charleston rather than be left unarmed all of the time.

He was pleased to see that Bren had gotten the sizes right so they fit into his armbands, and the sheathed blades slipped into his ankle boots without any problems. Feeling comfortable for the first time since he’d walked out of his bedroom with the blades Renee had given him left behind, he flicked ash out the window and settled back in the soft leather of the passenger seat.

There wasn’t any traffic that time of the day, so they made good time to Edgar Allan. The campus was mostly deserted like the last time he’d been there, which he supposed wasn’t a surprise since it was a liberal arts university with only a couple of sports teams – the Exy team being the most important one, unlike most universities.

Janna punched in the codes to get them past the secured doors and surprised Andrew by talking again, since she didn’t strike him as the chattiest of people. “There’d been some press hanging out around the stadium and campus earlier in the week, but they finally got the hint that Noguchi wasn’t going to let Neil do any interviews or issue any statements other than he was recovering all right.”

Andrew was about to remark that they should know better when he heard a faint sound behind him and spun around to find Bren standing a few feet away aiming a gun at his head. Something cold and hard settled inside of him as he dropped his bag and went to slip free a blade when the safety was clicked ‘off’. “Don’t,” Bren warned.

“Ichirou?” Andrew asked, furious that he’d been set up by Stuart and the Moriyama prick, that it had all been one big lie and Neil wasn’t free at all. That the man supposedly watching over Neil was taking part in the betrayal, too.

Bren scoffed, the sound loud and echoing through the black-walled tunnel. “That bastard? No, I just want to have a private chat with you before you see Neil.”

Andrew didn’t relax upon hearing that, not when a loaded gun was pointed at him. “About what?”

The gun didn’t waver as Bren held up his left hand, the pinkie finger missing the first knuckle. “You know what happened with this, right?”

“Yes.” Was this going to take all day? Just shoot him and spare him the boredom.

“Good.” Bren lowered his hand and didn’t seem inclined to speed things up, unfortunately. “Because I had no problem with it, I’d do it again and lose a lot more to keep that kid safe,” off to the side Janna frowned but she didn’t otherwise object, “to protect him from a bastard like Ichirou.” He gave Andrew a cold look and took a step closer, the gun still trained on Andrew’s head. “Do you think I’ll have a problem shooting _you_ if you _ever_ hurt him?”

Andrew gave him points for dramatic presentation, but it was a wasted effort, all in all, because he’d never hurt Neil like that. If by some chance he did? Then fine, let Bren do his worst. “Put the fucking gun away, I’m here to see Neil and you’re wasting my time.”

“He’s got balls,” Janna commented. “Davis is right about that.”

Bren regarded him for a couple of seconds before he grunted and lowered the gun while resetting the safety. “Just remember what I said and let’s get this disaster over with.” He winced a little while he holstered the gun.

Andrew ignored the man as he stalked forward, intent on seeing Neil and not having to deal with so many idiots.

That time there was a plethora of Ravens out on court (an unkindness), some of them engaged in a mini-scrimmage while Noguchi and Wilds watched on as Neil and the newer assistant coach, Gibson, worked with what looked to be four freshmen, judging from 30’s on their jerseys. Andrew intended to just watch the rest of the practice that time, aware that Neil didn’t have much longer out on court, but he didn’t take into account how on edge his friend was at the moment and how aware Neil would be of his surroundings under such circumstances.

He didn’t know if Neil had noticed Bren leaving and then returning or just the motion off court, but he looked up and, after recognizing Andrew, did a double-take before hurrying over to the door. He waited until he was off-court to speak, but his actions drew the attention of the entire team.

“Andrew?” Panic made his voice high-pitched and his eyes wide, evident when he flipped up his visor. “You can’t… you can’t be here!” Neil almost stumbled in his haste to reach Andrew. “Bren, why did you let him come here?” He cast an accusing glance the bodyguard’s way, which made Bren hold up his hands and shake his head.

“It’s all right, Red, this time it’s fine!”

“No it’s not, you know what happened last time!” Neil glanced at Bren’s left hand and flinched; while they argued, Patel and Wilds came up behind Neil. “And now things are even more messed up!” he all but shouted as he yanked off his helmet. “I don’t know what-“

“Neil.” Andrew pushed himself into Neil’s personal space and reached out to cup the back of Neil’s neck, the skin smooth and damp beneath his palm, to gaze into his friend’s pale blue eyes; part of him seethed as he noticed some sort of gel bandage along the outer right side of Neil’s face which must be obscuring the wound Stuart had alluded to and the panic over Ichirou’s reaction to his last visit to the Nest. “ _It’s okay_ ,” he said in German.

“ _No, you don’t know what’s going on_ ,” Neil insisted even as he quieted beneath Andrew’s touch.

“ _Yes, I do_.”

Neil stilled at that, at the certainty to the words, his eyes widening for a moment before they narrowed. “ _How? Did Bren tell you_?”

Andrew _had_ hoped to do this somewhere a bit more private, but best to get it out of the way, he supposed. “ _Because I’m the reason why you don’t have to sleep with Ichirou anymore_.”

It was quiet for several seconds; Neil gazed at him while in the background, Noguchi yelled at the Ravens that practice was at an end and to go shower. He had to repeat the order when Neil finally spoke. “ _You’re what? How did you do that? **Why** did you do that_?”

“ _I got the man to leave you alone_ ,” Andrew said while Neil knocked his hand aside. “ _He won’t touch you again_.”

“ ** _You_** _did that_ ,” Neil snapped as his cheeks grew flushed with anger. “ _You went behind my back and did such a thing? I made a deal with him for a reason, dammit! What if he’d taken back that protection_?”

“ _Riko’s gone, you don’t need it_.” Why was Neil being so stubborn about it?

“ _How can you be so sure about that? Jean’s alone in New York and Marley’s known to associate with us. You’re willing to risk their lives just to be a big hero_?” Neil shouted at him. “ _I told you ‘no’_ ,” Neil threw at Andrew as if aware how much that would hurt. “ _I didn’t want your help, dammit! Yet you went and did it anyway? What gives you the right_?”

Behind Neil, Patel looked ready to come to Neil’s aid (not that he needed it) but Wilds held her back, while Bren and Janna merely stood off on the side as if willing to let Neil and Andrew fight it out. “ _The fact that you nearly got killed, you idiot_ ,” Andrew gritted out. “ _I wasn’t going to wait to see if that changed in the near future so yes, I made a deal with Ichirou so you got some of your freedom back. You’re not the only one who can do such things_.”

As soon as he said the words, he realized that he’d spoken a little too much, as evident by the way Neil’s eyes narrowed again. “ _You made a ‘deal’. What were the terms, hmm? I know how these things work and Ichirou wouldn’t give up something for nothing. There’s always a give and take, so what stupid thing did **you** do?_ ”

Andrew didn’t want to tell Neil about the Barons just yet, but if it sped things up and got them the hell out of Evermore…. “ _Forty percent of my future earnings as a professional Exy player_.”

Neil’s left hand, the one not holding his helmet, clenched into a fist. “ _You utter idiot. Why would he take millions of dollars just to stop sleeping with **me**? Something’s not right here_.”

As always, Neil never quite got things when it came to himself, never understood his impact on people.

“Andrew?”

“Oh fuck, here we go,” Bren muttered, somehow picking up on Neil’s mood.

“ _I gave him the money in return for him handing over you_ ,” Andrew admitted in an emotionless voice.

Neil was quiet for several seconds, and then a cruel smile came over his lips, the one which predated him using words as the sharpest of knives to flay deep. _“Oh, how wonderful for you,”_ he taunted _. “Did you come here to see the merchandise in person? Do I need to put on a show, maybe a striptease? Am I going to spend my weekends in Columbia or Palmetto now – which bed do you prefer?_ ” He gave a short bark of a laugh as he gestured to his face. “ _Should have knocked off a percent or two for damaged goods, Minyard_.”

“Enough,” Andrew hissed as he went to reach for Neil but stopped before touching his jersey; he forced himself to not escalate things, to lash out in return and make the situation worse. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“I don’t know a _damn_ thing because I’m fucking tired of people treating me like an object!” Neil screamed as he threw his helmet with all his strength at Andrew and clipped him in the jaw. “Especially you!” Then he was off and running, with Patel right on his heels.

It was quiet for a couple of seconds in his wake and then Wilds spoke up. “ _Ouch_.” She let out a yelp when Andrew threw Neil’s helmet at her and scowled as she fumbled to catch it. “Hey! All jokes aside, I think it’s good? Anger’s a good thing, I don’t see Neil angry enough, all things considered. He let himself get angry with _you_.”

Wonderful, Andrew’s sore jaw was delighted over that fact, even if he could see the point that she was making. He just hoped that Neil showed his anger with smaller, softer objects in the future.

They stood there in an awkward silence for several minutes while Janna texted on her phone, but there was no sign of Neil or Patel. “How long does it take him to shower?” Andrew asked an increasingly nervous Bren; during his previous visit to the Nest, Neil had only taken a couple of minutes to wash.

“Not that long,” the British man confirmed, which was all Andrew needed to hear before he set off for the locker room with Bren in tow.

He hesitated for a moment on the cusp of the showers, but hearing the sound of running water made him step inside the fog-filled room where there was a couple of younger Ravens skulking near the entrance who went to say something but scurried away when they saw Andrew and Bren approach.

Neil was toward the back and facing the wall with his head bowed and arms braced against the tiles as the water poured down on him, and Andrew’s steps faltered as he took in the lattice of scars all over his friend’s body; they looked to be from knives and some randomly inflicted, but a lot of them (too many of them) had been left with deliberate intent all over his back. Somehow, Andrew doubted they were limited to there.

“Red? You done yet? We’ve got plans for the weekend,” Bren called out, and it wasn’t until they approached that they realized Neil was standing under cold water – there wasn’t any steam and he was shivering minutely.

“For fuck’s sake!” Bren went running the other way, probably to grab some towels, while Andrew inched closer to Neil; he was hunched over the faucets so it wasn’t a simple case of just turning them off, not unless Andrew touched a naked Neil which probably wasn’t a good idea at the moment.

“Neil,” Andrew called out. “Turn off the water.” He had to repeat the command twice to get a reaction.

Neil tilted his head to look at him, right around when Bren came running back into the room. “Is that an order?” The words were slurred a little and the idiot’s lips were already blue, his auburn hair plastered onto his face and half in his eyes, which were too damn empty and flat.

The universe did indeed hate Andrew.

“Listen to me,” Andrew said in as even a tone he could manage when he just wanted to grab onto Neil and shake some _fucking_ common sense into him. “I don’t care what Ichirou or anyone thinks, _no one_ owns you, not even me. _No one_ gets to touch you and I will slit their throats and cut off their hands if they dare try, do you understand?”

Neil stared at him as his body began to shiver more violently, his teeth even taken to chattering, and then some light came back into those awful, beautiful eyes of his. “What about you?” he asked, his voice raw and aching.

“Not even me,” Andrew repeated as he held out a hand for Bren to throw him a towel. “Not unless you want. _Never_ unless you want, I promise.”

It was quiet again for a few thundering heartbeats and then Neil nodded and stepped away from the cold shower; Andrew hurried to drape the towel around the idiot’s shoulders while Bren scrambled to turn off the water, and braced himself when Neil half-slumped against him.

(He hated how the scars were just as bad if not worse on Neil’s chest and upper thighs, and sort of understood what his friend had meant about the damn tattoo.)

Neil allowed him to rub the towel along his too cold skin, to help him stand (Andrew wasn’t bothered by the close contact, the touching, but then again, there was nothing sexual about a frozen and broken person needing help, was there?), with Bren handing over dry towels and clothes (he had the suspicion that the man did it often). Soon enough, they had Neil only damp around the edges and in his usual overlarge sweatshirt and track pants.

Patel, Janna and Wilds were waiting for them in the lounge; Wilds had Andrew’s bag, which he’d left out near court, and Patel had a bag packed for Neil along with a small mesh one holding three drink containers. “Something to help warm Neil up and a smoothie to tide him over until you get to wherever,” she explained, “and a coffee with hopefully enough sugars and milk for you, MF.” She grinned as she handed it to Andrew, then laughed at the flat look he gave her in return.

“Have fun, Shorty,” she told Neil as she gave him a hug. “I’ll hold down the fort while you’re gone so just… just relax, okay?”

“Okay. Don’t be too much of a tyrant, vice-captain,” he chided her, which made her smile grow wider.

“No promises.”

Wilds swore that she’d keep Patel in line and told Neil to take it easy, too, and surprised Andrew by giving him a ‘thumbs up’ gesture instead of some sort of lecture.

Feeling a strong need to be away from people, Andrew grabbed his bag, made sure he had the key to Neil’s Maserati and a certain little bird, and left.

“Do you ever drive this thing?” he asked once they were settled in the car and noticed that it barely had any more miles on it than the previous time he’d driven it.

“Ah, I think Bren starts it up every couple of days, but not really.” Neil shrugged as he reached for what smelled to be tea. “Not much time, to be honest.”

What a waste. Andrew mentally reviewed the directions Bren had sent him on how to get to the set of cabins in some nearby forest and started driving, aware of Bren and Janna in an SUV behind them.

It was quiet in the car at first, save for the glorious rumble of the Maserati’s engine; they drank their beverages while Neil stared out the passenger window, curled up in the seat with his hands tucked into the sleeves and the hood pulled over his head. He didn’t even ask where they were going, either a sign of trust or uncaring complacency… or sullenness.

Considering the biting comments and Andrew’s now bruised jaw, he suspected it might be the last one.

“Why the shower?” he dared to ask after about ten minutes of silence.

Neil sighed and reached for the smoothie; Andrew realized that his friend probably hadn’t had a proper breakfast yet that day, which could be fixed when they reached the cabin; it would draw too much attention to stop somewhere along the way. “I’m tired,” Neil said as he looked at Andrew at least, even twisting in the seat to face him. “I’m tired of everyone having power over me. You may think they were stupid, but at least _I_ made those deals.”

“You made those deals because of other people fucking up your life,” Andrew pointed out, then sighed when Neil’s brows drew together in anger. “I did it to give you _back_ power.”

“Okay.” At first it appeared as if Neil didn’t believe him as he sipped the smoothie, then he sighed as well. “Okay, but you still did it without talking to me first and you made a damn deal with Ichirou. You call me an idiot? That was _really_ stupid.”

They would disagree on that front. “Bren promised to shoot me if I hurt you,” Andrew added, thinking that might cheer Neil up a little or at least put a fear or two to rest.

Neil gave him an even look while checking him over as if for injuries. “He didn’t though, such a shame.” Yet Andrew caught the slightest hint of a smile on the bastard’s lips before Neil took another sip, caught a gleam of amusement in those pale eyes and settled on giving him the finger by way of response.

The quiet was more bearable after that, was companionable, with Neil facing him until Andrew sang out ‘staring’, which made Neil grin and face forward at last. He was about to fall asleep when they finally reached the cabins, about half an hour drive from the campus; there were two wooden and glass buildings which didn’t look too old, looked as if they would be comfortable to stay in for a few days and had probably been meant for some nice ‘rustic’ retreat with all the amenities before they’d fallen into some mobster’s hands.

The SUV pulled up next to the Maserati with Bren and Janna hopping out a moment later. “Let me turn off the alarm,” Bren said as he strode up to the farthest cabin from the dirt road. “Everything’s set up for you, just stay here until Monday morning and we’re good.”

Neil glanced around the woods before gazing at Andrew with a silent question.

“It’s not the Nest and no one should bother us here.” If a hiker or hunter came knocking on the door, Andrew was stabbing them and leaving it to the other two to getting rid of the body.

Neil was quiet as they followed Bren then smiled. “I was getting tired of New York.”

The inside of the cabin was just as nice if not nicer than the outside indicated; Bren had said the cabins were someplace where the Moriyamas’ people could ‘hang out’ if necessary (and probably stash any involuntary guests, especially with all that space around them to get rid of any ‘evidence’), so while it wasn’t the same as a luxury resort, there were two bedrooms with large beds, two full-sized bathrooms and another half-bath, a fully equipped kitchen and a large living area with two comfortable looking couches, a reclining chair and a large flat-screen television.

Bren and Andrew did a complete check of the rooms before Bren left, then Andrew went to the kitchen where Neil was drinking some water; he looked into all of the cabinets and the fridge and was satisfied that Bren (or someone else) had gotten everything from his ‘shopping list’.

“So we’re to hang out here all weekend?”

“Until Monday morning,” Andrew said. “You’ll be back on time for your precious practice.”

A muscle twitched in Neil’s jaw and his brows drew together again. “Another decision made without asking me?”

Andrew paused in grabbing some food out of the fridge to lean against the counter. “Fair enough. After everything that happened, I figured you needed a break and this would give us a chance to talk in private. We can leave if you want.” He’d been so focused on getting Neil away from Evermore, away from somewhere Ichirou could reach him so easily, he hadn’t thought that his friend would object or be upset.

It was like Wilds had said, Neil didn’t often get angry. Instead he adapted and went along with it, he gave away pieces of himself and did whatever was necessary to survive – and that rarely included the option to be angry when he was dealing with the Moriyamas, when he was protecting others.

Andrew had gotten used to that over the years.

There were things both of them would have to unlearn, would have to be careful about, careful with in regards to each other.

Neil chewed on his bottom lip for a few seconds as he considered the offer. “We’re here to _talk_?” There was such uncertainty in that question that Andrew felt something in him shut down, felt the urge to get into the Maserati and drive away.

Yet despite the ongoing doubt, Neil continued to gaze at him, to not look away, and there was an odd gleam of hope in his eyes as if he was waiting for Andrew to say the right words to him, a thrumming tension to his body as if he waited for the answer which would keep him from running away himself.

So Andrew pushed aside his own doubts and nightmares and nodded. “If all you want to do is talk, we only talk. We don’t even have to do that,” he said as he resumed grabbing something to eat.

“Okay.” Neil smiled then, his body lax with relief and expression so beautiful that Andrew’s chest seized so hard that he couldn’t breathe for several thunderous heartbeats, couldn’t even move until he told himself he was being a fucking idiot.

“101%,” he called out as he fetched the hash brown mix and set it on the counter, followed by the carton of eggs and shredded cheese.

“Eh? What happened to a hundred?” Neil asked. “And what are you making?”

“Your last meal on earth,” Andrew informed his little bird, and then had to put up with Neil trying to help him with their late breakfast/early lunch.

He told the idiot to make some tea and get out of the way, and then dealt with him sitting on the counter, a mug of tea in hand and a slight smile on his face, as Andrew prepared scrambled eggs with cheese, hash browns with sriracha sauce and toast. There was a wrinkled nose when everything was plated, but Neil ate most of it while he asked Andrew what it had been like, working as a cook.

Andrew recounted a few stories about the odd requests he’d received (and mostly ignored), while Neil talked about the ‘fun’ of cooking on the run, of cobbled-together campfires and rigged ‘kitchens’ in cheap motels, of how to use a car’s engine to heat things up.

By then the meal was finished and dishes done, so they went to the living area to watch some television; Andrew had made sure to download a bunch of shows and movies onto his laptop since he wasn’t sure about the reception out in the forest. He hooked the devices together and sat down on the one couch, and looked up to see Neil loitering in front of him.

“Uhm… okay?” Neil motioned to the spot next to him on the couch.

“If you _want_ to, yes.”

Neil rolled his eyes as he sat down beside Andrew. “I get it, and _yes_.” He sighed as he pulled his knees up against his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs. “Look, I’m still upset that you agreed to Ichirou’s terms and did what you did, but… _thank you_ ,” he mumbled with his face half-pressed against his knees. “You’re still an asshole, though. A stupid asshole.”

Dammit, Andrew _had_ to do something about the way just a few words or a simple curve of lips or something equally asinine could affect him so strongly; that ‘thank you’ set his heart beating faster than playing any Exy game ever had. “An asshole who’s going to make you watch a movie on car racing now,” he said once he was certain his voice would remain even.

Neil groaned and nudged him in the side. “Bren really should have shot you, dammit!”

“Too late.” Neil laughed as Andrew started the movie and unfurled a little, still all tucked up on the couch but appearing more comfortable than defensive.

He made a few comments on how ridiculous the movie was, but Andrew noticed a growing weight against his left side about a quarter of the way into the film and looked over after a few minutes to find Neil asleep. At first he went stiff in realization, then he slowly relaxed and forced his attention back on the movie he’d already seen once before while Neil continued to sleep.

It had been a stressful week for his friend, especially the last day or two, and that morning hadn’t done Neil any favors. That Neil felt comfortable enough with Andrew (despite the thrown helmets and shooting comments) to fall asleep like that… Andrew _hated_ him.

It was almost the end of the movie when Neil woke up, his body tensing at first then his legs stretching out. “Oh.” He lifted his head from Andrew’s shoulder and seemed to remember where he was. “Oh, I’m so-“

Andrew leaned forward to stop the movie. “It’s fine, you were tired.”

“I, uhm, should have asked?” Neil said as he shook his head.

“You were asleep,” Andrew reminded him. “If I had a problem, I’d have shoved you onto the floor.” That earned him a scowl until Neil’s lips twitched a little.

“Not helping that asshole thing.”

“Didn’t know I was trying.” Free to move, Andrew reached for his cigarettes and lit one, and noticed a wistful expression cross Neil’s face as he blew out a plume of smoke – it wasn’t the first time he’d seen that. “What?” he asked as he settled back on the couch. “Don’t tell me you used to smoke.”

“No, but my mum used to,” Neil admitted. “The scent reminds me of her.” He was quiet for a moment as he stared at the glowing end of the cigarette. “I used to carry packs on me just so I could smell them, you know? It was a way to hold on to her after she died.” He gave a sad, soft laugh as he shrugged and wrapped his arms around his middle. “They took them away at Evermore, can’t have their players smoking.”

Andrew almost snubbed it out after hearing that, after hearing the connection to Mary Hatford, but had a couple more puffs while Neil closed his eyes and rested his head against the back of the couch. Then he put it out on the ashtray on the large coffee table and dared to tuck back an unruly curl resting on Neil’s forehead.

Neil opened his eyes and gave Andrew that tender smile he hated so much, and they ended up gazing at each other; Andrew didn’t know what he’d intended to do beyond that, if he meant to say something or not, but the look in Neil’s eyes softened and he reached out to hover a hand over Andrew’s chest.

“Ah… I think… uhm… I mean… I _want_ to do more than talk,” Neil said in a quiet voice.

That damn tingling sensation was back in Andrew’s chest upon hearing those words. “You… is that a ‘yes’?” he asked, his voice rough for some reason.

Neil’s brow furrowed at that and then smoothed out. “Yeah, it’s a ‘yes’,” he agreed after wetting his full bottom lip.

Andrew’s hands itched to grab his friend and pull him close, to bridge the distance between them, but he forced himself to wait. “Say ‘no’ when it isn’t and everything stops,” he said as he scooted a little closer. “You can touch me above the hips but not beneath my clothes.” That was more than he allowed with Roland, but for some reason… he wanted to feel Neil’s hands on him. “Tell me what’s all right with you.”

“Th-the same,” Neil breathed out as he went onto his knees, a blush spreading across his cheeks as he stared at Andrew. “Okay?”

“Yes.” Then Neil was moving toward him, was in his lap as Andrew carefully, oh so carefully, wrapped his arms around Neil’s waist and Neil draped his arms over Andrew’s shoulders. The kiss started out gentle as if neither of them were certain it was real, that they should be doing it (that they weren’t going to be told ‘no’ or ‘stop’ at any moment), and then Neil’s fingers crept into Andrew’s hair and Andrew’s hand settled between the space of Neil’s shoulder blades as it slowly intensified, as all the frustration and longing and need Andrew had held back for so long finally broke free.

They kissed like that for an indefinite amount of time, the hard press of lips and quick nips and rattle of teeth, until Neil pulled away with a gasp. Bracing himself for that ‘no’, Andrew was surprised with a smile on kiss-reddened lips instead.

“Is that too-“

“I like it,” Neil said before Andrew could continue to say something and touched his lips. “That’s… that’s honest, no?”

Yes, the Fates hated Andrew. “You’re an idiot,” he all but growled as he pushed Neil forward and silenced him with another kiss much like the last.

He cupped Neil’s left cheek in his hand, mindful of the healing cut on the right, while his other hand stroked along Neil’s back, over firm muscle and the faint bumps of scar tissue through the material of Neil’s shirts. In return, Neil’s fingers combed through his hair and rubbed along his shoulders and arms as if he found Andrew’s muscles fascinating.

Neil made the most enticing breathy moan when Andrew trailed his mouth along his friend’s jaw and nibbled on the spot below his left ear, and Andrew felt himself jolt when Neil ‘returned’ the favor and gave a gentle suck on the front of his neck. That made him knock Neil’s chin up (mindful not to grab it) and kiss him breathless again, which led to Neil settling even more on his lap then going still… oh, yeah.

It was natural that his body would react when he _finally_ had someone he wanted so much that close, when he was kissing him and touching him. Andrew had no intention in breaking his word, in doing more than kissing Neil that weekend (or anytime soon) and figured if he couldn’t ignore his body that he’d just go into one of the bathrooms and deal with it, but so far it hadn’t been an issue.

However, that was what _he’d_ thought, and it was apparent that Neil was of a different belief, considering how he’d just pulled away a little and seemed to be thinking about something.

Something _utterly_ wrong, apparently, which shouldn’t have come as a surprise.

“Ah… okay.” Something grew shuttered behind Neil’s eyes, in his expression as he bit into his swollen bottom lip then reached for the hem of his shirts, his gaze becoming downcast and hollow. “I… it’s all right, we can-“

Andrew’s hands latched onto his to stop him from lifting his shirts any further. “ _No_. I _meant_ what I said.”

Neil’s expression just then was so confused that Andrew wanted to get into the Maserati once again, only that time to track down Ichirou Moriyama and any other Raven who had dared to hurt Neil, to treat him as if he was a _thing_. “But… you want-“

“It’s a ‘no’,” Andrew gritted out. “And it’s not what _I_ want, it’s what we _both_ want.” He forced himself to let go of Neil’s hands. “Do _you_?”

It shouldn’t look as if he’d just spoken another language just then, that Neil needed a couple of seconds to figure out that question, to decide upon an answer. But Andrew had been there himself, had spent all those years working with Bee on finding some sort of solid ground beneath his feet, on getting to a point where he could bear another’s touch (on his own terms).

“No,” Neil admitted in a whisper as if he was afraid of saying that much and drew in a shuddering breath when Andrew cupped his cheek.

“Then it’s ‘no’,” Andrew assured him. “I promised you that no one would touch you against your will again.” It wasn’t quite as simple as that, it never was, but as long as Andrew (or Bren) were around, they’d protect Neil.

Now Neil knew he could protect himself, too.

Neil started trembling and slumped against Andrew, his face buried in Andrew’s neck as that realization seemed to finally sink in, and Andrew held him until he calmed down, until the tremors stilled and his body relaxed. It should have made him cringe, made his teeth ache and skin itch, that closeness, but it was oddly soothing, the feel of soft hair against his neck and jaw, the warmth of Neil’s body and the scent of his shampoo.

“’m sorry,” Neil murmured against Andrew’s neck, which made Andrew shiver at warm breath against sensitive skin, then grit his teeth as Neil followed it with a lingering kiss.

Instead of saying anything, Andrew pushed him away and onto his feet. When Neil gave him another confused look, he grabbed the front of his sweatshirt and pulled him along. “Come on, you can help with dinner.”

“Okay.” Neil frowned but followed, then sighed when he saw Andrew pull out a bunch of cheese and butter and milk out of the fridge. “Really?”

“Hush,” Andrew chided, then went to fetch some beers to drink while he cooked. He held one up to Neil, whose frown deepened for a moment before he shrugged in a ‘why not’ motion.

“What are we having?”

“Buffalo chicken mac ‘n cheese,” Andrew told him as he handed over the beer, some sort of stout – the perils of letting a British guy pick for you, he figured. “Now shut up and grate all of that.”

He got a stuck-out tongue for his troubles (someone had apparently recovered and was feeling frisky), and Neil hummed as he worked on prepping the cheese; Andrew had picked the dish in part because he remembered Neil talking once about how the cheap boxes of mac ‘n cheese had been a sort of treat for him while on the run with his mother – they’d been inexpensive but they weren’t something they could make just anywhere.

Neil grimaced a bit while drinking his bottle of beer, clearly not used to it, but finished it while he grated the cheese then sat on the counter once again while he watched Andrew put everything together. He was a little shit and kept sneaking pinches of cheese and laughing when Andrew would smack his fingers as a result and give him a blank look, too cheeky by half.

Andrew would gut anyone with a dull spoon who got him to admit it, even Bee, but it was worth almost half of his future salary to see Neil so happy and animated, so relaxed and worry-free. For once he’d have memories worth cherishing, worth pulling to the fore and focusing on when he was bored or needed something to push back the darkness.

“Come on, you _have_ to gain some weight during the summer break with all the carbs you eat and drink,” Neil cajoled as the dish was put into the kitchen’s small oven. “You’re going to be this big round sphere once you retire.”

“Your point?” Andrew went over to the counter and braced his hands on either side of Neil’s hips, his head tilted back to look up at his little bird.

“Hmm, you’re going to give your team’s dietician fits, whichever one you join. You’re lucky the Foxes are too small to have one,” Neil said as he gave Andrew’s biceps an appreciative squeeze after waiting for Andrew to nod first.

“Says the man who’s always foisting his vegetables off on everyone else.”

“I eat other healthy stuff.”

Andrew had to admit that Neil had a very, _very_ nice body from what he’d seen and felt (the scars and damn Raven tattoo aside) – lean and toned with almost no body fat, he’d make an excellent runner or swimmer if he wasn’t so damn addicted to Exy. “Not this weekend, you don’t.” Though there was some fruit in the fridge, Andrew wasn’t completely heartless (another thing he’d deny).

“Yeah, I figured that out already.” Neil hopped down from the counter, which left him sandwiched between it and Andrew. “How long do we have until it’s ready?”

“Long enough. Yes?”

“Yes,” Neil breathed out as he once more raised his arms to slid them around Andrew’s neck.

There was less hesitation that time, less gentleness now that they were more certain of where they stood – Neil that Andrew wouldn’t push past a certain point and Andrew that Neil was learning that there were indeed boundaries between them (he accepted Andrew’s just fine, he was finally understanding that he had his own which were to be respected as well).

Neil held Andrew’s face cupped between his hands while Andrew’s fingers clenched gently in Neil’s hair and he rubbed circles in the small of his back. That molten pool of desire was back in Andrew’s belly, was a turgid flow though his veins and prickle along his nerves, an ever-present sensation he could subsume _just_ enough as he focused on the feel of Neil’s mouth, Neil’s pulse, Neil’s smooth skin beneath his lips and tongue.

And then Neil was pulling away again with a ragged gasp, his eyes wide and cheeks flushed as his hands fell from Andrew’s face to fall over his crotch. “Neil?”

“Ah… oh!” He bumped into the counter and blushed even brighter as he ducked his head.

“What’s wrong?” Andrew recalled the last few minutes but couldn’t think of any line he’d crossed, anything different he’d done that time.

“Uhm… it’s… it’s never happened… I mean… not from _this_. Oh god.” Neil sounded perplexed and embarrassed, and Andrew finally clued in on his hunched posture.

“You mean….”

“ _Yeah_.” Neil eventually lifted his hands to rub at his face, and Andrew could see the slight bulge in his pants, especially since Neil had finally removed with overlarge sweatshirt due to the heat of the oven warming the kitchen, leaving him with just a black Ravens t-shirt.

Andrew went to fetch the bottle of whiskey and poured them both some, a little less in Neil’s glass since he barely drank. His friend accepted it and tossed it back without appearing to think twice. “Never?”

“Not from just… you know, kissing,” Neil said as he set the glass aside then wrapped his arms around himself. “It usually takes… oh hell, no.” He rubbed at his face for a moment and grimaced, then gave Andrew a wan smile. “Sorry, it was a bit of a surprise, but it… it’s good. Just… this is so new.”

Finishing his own drink, Andrew set it on the counter next to Neil’s and approached his friend again. “It’s all right. I told you, you can stop whenever, if it gets too much or you don’t like something.”

Neil reached out to toy with a lock of Andrew’s hair. “It’s clear I like it.”

“Don’t be a smart-ass.”

That earned Andrew another cheeky grin despite the cut on Neil’s face and the thin gel layer covering it. “Then make me be quiet, why don’t you?”

Never let it be said that Andrew turned down a challenge.

They didn’t stop that time until the timer went off to warn that dinner was done, and if Andrew noticed that Neil had become ‘excited’ again, he didn’t say anything. Neil handled it better that time, so it probably had been the shock of it all being new.

“Why you?” Neil asked as they sat on the couch with their bowls of mac ‘n cheese. At Andrew’s arched eyebrow, Neil rolled his eyes. “No, that’s not an insult, I’m just trying to figure this out – why now?”

Andrew had a feeling he was going to be very tired of talking by Monday. “Have you heard of ‘demisexuality’?”

“Marley said you told her that you think I’m that. We looked it up and it’s where… ah, I need an emotional attachment rather than I’m attracted to just men or women?” When Andrew stared at him while eating, Neil shrugged. “Okay, Marley looked it up and told me.”

Why didn’t that surprise Andrew? “She basically got it right – you’re not going to be attracted to anyone unless you’ve got some sort of connection first.” And from the sounds of it, Neil had never developed an emotional connection with Ichirou – go figure. Then again, that might be difficult to do when the man _owned_ you.

“So I’ve an emotional connection with you?” When Andrew merely stared at him again, Neil sighed. “Yeah, it’s because of the scintillating conversation, obviously.”

“Least I talk to you,” Andrew said. “And I even cooked.” Nicky would be having a heart attack right now if he was there.

“Hmm, yes, not bad but I think it’s all part of Meg’s devious plan to make sure I can’t run out on court this season because I’m overweight.” Neil laughed when Andrew kicked him in the thigh. “I like you, huh?”

“You’re an idiot,” Andrew reminded him, unwilling to think about Neil responding to _him_ , to what that all meant.

“And you?” Neil paused to lick at his spoon, which wasn’t doing much for Andrew’s heartrate just then. “What are you?”

“ _Not_ a demisexual.” When Neil’s shoulders slumped a little, Andrew scraped at the last of the macaroni in his bowl. “No term for someone attracted to idiot birds, it seems, other than ‘masochist’.”

Dammit, there really was something wrong at him, at the way his chest ached whenever Neil smiled like that.

Neil managed one and a half bowls of the mac ‘n cheese, and shook his head when Andrew had three. That left a bit over for the next day, and Neil brewed some herbal tea while Andrew fetched a pint of ice cream for when they sat together to watch another movie. That time Neil stayed awake through it, though it probably helped that he spent half the time mocking the actors on the screen since Andrew had picked some bank heist with supposedly ‘international’ characters.

Nothing like watching a movie like that with a linguist raised by criminals who’d lived almost half his life on the run.

They made out some more once the movie was over, Andrew slowly mapping out the feel of each scar beneath his fingers with only the thin fabric of the t-shirt between them and Neil’s skin as Neil murmured their origin against his lips. Too many were from Riko, from him not bending the knee or the bastard being jealous or ‘just because’, but a lot of them were from before Evermore, were from Neil’s own father or the people sent to chase after him and Mary Hatford, were from years on the run.

There was a long swath of road rash (crisscrossed with knife cuts) from when Neil had jumped from a moving car of all things, was a bullet wound, was the imprint of an iron which yes, the tattoo mostly hid. Some of the scars were stitched together neatly and some were rough-edged, as if done in a hurry; Andrew was willing to bet only the one on Neil’s face had ever received proper medical attention.

Neil gave him a sad look when Andrew rested their foreheads together. “I… I know, they’re not very attractive, are they?”

“Stop saying such stupid things,” Andrew told him, which earned him another smile (for once remembering everything wasn’t a terrible thing).

When it came time for bed, neither of them wanted to go to the separate bedrooms though Andrew knew it was too soon for them to try to share a bed. They split up to get ready, and Andrew felt another rush of tingling warmth when Neil returned to the living area with a pillow and some blankets dressed in the damn cat hoodie and sweatpants.

He was given one last kiss for the night before being shoved onto a couch; they each took one, which meant they could see each other and be assured of their presence, could take some comfort in the other being near (more for Neil’s sake than Andrew’s). Andrew placed his new knives beneath his pillows and within reach as he got comfortable on the couch.

As always, there was some difficulty falling asleep in a strange place, even though Neil was a quiet sleeper. Andrew had a bad dream about Drake late during the night, probably because of his worries over pushing too far with Neil, with so many similar issues being brought to the surface, but all he had to do was open his eyes and see Neil’s sleeping form almost within reach and his pulse slowed down and the awful memories faded away.

Drake was dead, all those other men were thousands of miles away and years in the past, and Andrew had some hope of a future in front of him if he didn’t let his doubts mess things up.

Neil woke up before him and managed to get into the kitchen and some oatmeal started before the noise level rose enough that Andrew was disturbed. He lay on the couch and had a minute or two of murderous thoughts about little birds who should learn to fucking sleep in before he sighed and got up as well. First he went to the nearest bathroom, then into the kitchen to pour himself a cup of coffee (Neil earned a reprieve for at least starting a pot).

“Somehow, I don’t think you want any of this,” Neil said as he motioned to the small pot filled with horse feed, as far as Andrew was concerned (or whatever animal ate oats). “Want some eggs?”

About to say that he’d make his own breakfast, Andrew nodded instead and leaned against the counter near the coffee pot while Neil smiled (again) and lowered the heat beneath the oatmeal then went to fetch the eggs. After asking Andrew how he wanted them, he did a decent job of making scrambled eggs with cheese and even some toast, then sat down at the small table to eat his oatmeal with fruit.

They enjoyed a quiet breakfast together, with Neil making exaggerated faces whenever Andrew refilled his coffee mug and added sugar, which led to a strawberry being thrown at the smart-ass’ face. Neil complained a little about the lack of a treadmill and being unable to go outside to run, and being ordered not to practice fighting for another week because of his ‘injury’ (he didn’t seem to worry much about it scarring, which Andrew supposed wasn’t a surprise when one considered how many he already had).

There was another ‘yes or no’ after the dishes were done, but it was a little less frenetic; they seemed to realize that this ‘thing’ between them wasn’t going away, to put a bit more ‘trust’ and ‘faith’ in it (two more things Andrew usually hated, but not when in association with Neil). When half an hour or so had passed without any new surprises or revelations, Andrew poured himself the last of the coffee and Neil made himself another cup of tea before they went into the living area.

Andrew let Neil peruse through the files he’d downloaded, and the polyglot selected some Japanese anime that Katelyn and the Vixens liked which he’d only thrown on there because Neil spoke the language. Neil started the show out of curiosity while Andrew grabbed a book and, after some careful thought and mental checking, he lay down with his head on Neil’s lap, mindful the first couple of minutes on if it felt comfortable for him and Neil.

(He’d noticed how Neil often was in contact with Moreau and Patel as if to assure himself of their presence, either to check if they were all right or a sign of being touch-starved and seeking physical contact with the few people he thought of as ‘safe’.)

Neil asked what he could touch and took to stroking Andrew’s hair, which turned out to be a soothing gesture, and Andrew tuned out the skating anime while Neil mumbled in Japanese a little as he watched.

It lasted for a couple of hours, until Andrew needed a bit of space and a cigarette (and to go to the bathroom after all that coffee). When he came back, he found that Neil had paused the anime. “Well?”

“Uhm, you know it was about two guys? I mean, two guys liking each other,” Neil told him.

No wonder Katelyn made such a big deal to talk to Nicky about the damn show. “And?”

Neil seemed confused by that then shrugged. “Ah, it wasn’t bad. I mean, it wasn’t about Exy, but it was fun. Marley will like it, I bet.”

“Junkie,” Andrew said as he headed to the kitchen for ice cream. “There’s more to life than some stupid stickball sport.”

Neil made a dramatic gasp and followed. “Sacrilege!” He chuckled when Andrew flicked ash at him and got a bowl of fruit to eat while Andrew selected a zombie movie for them to watch. Or mostly watch, as they ended up debating how to best survive a zombie apocalypse and pick apart everything the characters were doing wrong during the film.

The problem with spending so much time with Neil was that it didn’t _seem_ like a lot of time, and it definitely didn’t seem like any effort. Andrew knew it was just two days, that it wasn’t a real representation of a life together with the good and the bad, of the dark days hitting when he could barely function or Neil was without any inner spark. But at least it was them taking the first steps toward _something_ , and it seemed that despite everything they’d gone through, they could do more than talk on the phone with each other and pine.

Neil was back in Andrew’s lap, his expression thoughtful as he gently massaged Andrew’s shoulders. “So I like you.” He sounded rather incredulous about that fact, as if everything that had happened over the years shouldn’t have been some big fucking _clue_.

“Certainty, much?” Andrew drawled, his hands slipped beneath the hoodie but not the t-shirt and pressed against Neil’s back.

“Where’s my phone?” Neil asked as he glanced around. “I need to call Bren and ask him about that whole shooting you thing.” He yelped when Andrew gave him a slight smack on his upper back. “Hey, this is new to me,” he explained. “I’m not used to it.”

“What’s your point, or is it just some random chirps?”

“Yes there’s a point,” Neil sighed. “What about you?”

Andrew much preferred random chirps. “I hate you,” he insisted, and at first Neil frowned at that and then smiled.

“Right, how could I forget? So what does that make us?”

Part of Andrew wanted to say ‘nothing’, that there wasn’t anything between them… but for over two years he’d talked to Neil at least once a week, had confessed truths and offered to save him, had done what he could to put him back together long-distance, had even been saved somewhat because of Neil’s intervention in the whole Drake thing. He’d faced parts of himself he’d long ignored just so he could sit here with this improbable pipedream on his lap, and that… that wasn’t _nothing_.

_Dammit._

“What do you want it to be?” he asked instead.

Neil closed his eyes and leaned forward to rest their foreheads together. “I don’t… my mother would say that _this_ is bad, but I’ve already broken so many of her rules and I don’t see why this one is wrong when it’s kept me going for so long,” he confessed in a quiet voice. “I still don’t really understand it, I just know that I don’t want it to end.”

“Then we agree that it keeps going until we say ‘stop’,” Andrew told him. “Whatever it is, it’s ours and it’s ongoing.” That was something he could accept – no labels, no expectations beyond they had each other and the ability to say ‘no’ at any time.

“Okay.” Neil opened his eyes and tilted his head to the side as he bumped their noses together. “Yes?”

“Yes,” Andrew agreed before he closed his eyes and allowed himself to fall even more for Neil, taking some comfort in the fact at least (at last) that Neil was falling with him.

It was frightening how each touch, each soft gasp and low moan, each returned kiss and whispered ‘yes’ only made Andrew want _more_ instead of placated the yearning inside of him. Judging from Neil’s eagerness and heated gazes… he wasn’t alone in feeling that way.

They woke up much too early on Monday morning and packed their few belongings; Andrew had some coffee and Neil tea, along with some disgusting amino shake he took along for the drive back to Edgar Allan. Bren reset the alarm on the cabin after eyeing Neil up and down but otherwise didn’t say too much, while Janna gave them a bright smile before everyone climbed into their respective vehicles and left.

“I think I should be here for another week or two,” Neil told Andrew when asked if he’d have to go to New York anytime soon. “I was told to stay out of sight for a while.” He frowned as he sipped his shake. “I’d like to see Jean, but he and everyone else tells me that he’s doing all right.”

“Imagine that, him being an adult and all.” Andrew ignored the scathing look sent his way; Neil’s fretting over his old partner got to be a bit much to take at times. “Text me when you know for certain.”

That put Neil back in a good mood. “Okay.” The small, tender smile was back on his face. “I’ll borrow some spare Exy gear so we can practice while you’re here.”

“You do realize there’s a whole forest where I can bury your body, right?”

They spent the rest of the ride ‘discussing’ how Andrew was going to murder Neil and get rid of his body (the little bird had some good ideas). As soon as they reached the campus, the Exy junkie grew distracted, no doubt excited about spending the day out on court, but he leaned over to give Andrew a passionate kiss ‘goodbye’ after asking ‘yes’. “Have a safe flight home,” he said before they got out of the Maserati.

Neil went off with Bren into Castle Evermore while Andrew and Janna headed to the airport. “Things all better now between you?” Janna asked, and smiled when Andrew gave her an expressionless look in return. “I’ll take that as a ‘yes’. He looked happy, better than I’ve seen him in a long time. That’s good.”

Andrew didn’t say anything, he merely lit a cigarette instead and exhaled as Janna grew quiet, apparently having made her point. She accepted the bundle of knives back from him when they reached the airport and wished him a safe flight, too, and that was that.

He tugged the hood of his t-shirt over his head and kept his head down as much as possible while he went through security, grabbed some food and waited at the gate for his flight. If anyone recognized him, he’d tell them that he’d been in town to visit Wilds and supposed that sooner or later they’d need to come up with some sort of story to explain his presence.

Bee was his ride to the Foxhole Court, and she smiled as soon as she saw him. “May I say that ‘I told you so’?”

“No.” He should have taken a cab or something.

“All right, I won’t say it _out loud_ ,” she said a pleased grin. “How’s Neil?” When Andrew grunted softly and slumped down in the seat, Bee hummed in delight. “I take it he’s sporting at least as many hickeys as you?”

“Do you have to talk?” Maybe Andrew could get out at the next red light and walk the rest of the way, except he had a feeling there would be similar questions once he reached the Foxhole Court, dammit.

“Yes, I do, this is a very proud moment for me and I’m reveling in it,” Bee admitted. “This isn’t me being your psychiatrist right now but someone who’s known you for years and is so happy that you seem to have found someone at last. Allow me to wallow in it for a little bit.”

Andrew thought about that and sighed. “It wasn’t perfect, but… it wasn’t too bad,” he admitted with some reluctance.

Bee glanced at him with an understanding smile on her face. “That’s only natural, considering both of your pasts. The main thing is that you two took the first step together and are willing to move forward. You know I’ll help you however I can.”

He nodded once and Bee dropped it after that, knowing by then when it was best to push things and when to back off, and talked about her weekend until they reached the stadium. She told Andrew she’d text him some times that she had free for the week if he wanted to meet up with her for an hour or two to which he nodded again then drove off, leaving him to face his family and the Foxes for the next few hours.

He had a feeling it was going to be a long day and hoped that Neil got back to him soon about the weekend; the thought of another weekend in the cabin might be the only thing to keep him from committing mass homicide in the next few days.

*******

Neil had been hoping that he'd be left alone for a little while, given some space to... to _process_ everything that had happened over the weekend with Andrew, but of course that didn't happen. Marley sat across from him at lunch with Dan, Bren and Janna in the other seats at the table and tapped her fingers on the flat surface. "Spill. Don't make me break out the infamous Patel sibling torture on you."

He gave Bren a curious look as he poked at his steamed fish. "You gonna let her do that?"

"Have to say, I'm rather interested in seeing what it is," Bren admitted with a wide grin. "Aren't you?"

"Not when I'm the torturee," Neil snapped.

"Smart boy," Marley told him. "Mal had it perfected by the time I was born, but what do you expect out of someone who willingly went on to become a lawyer?" she said of her oldest brother, her expression one of affection for a moment before her eyes narrowed. "Now _spill_. You and Andrew and those fascinating bruises on your neck."

He knew he should have put on some makeup, but it was too much effort when he'd just work out and then practice in another hour and then shower again - besides, the team knew he had a 'boyfriend' he visited most weekends (just not that it had been Ichirou), so why bother to hide he was... in a _whatever_ with Andrew?

"Yes, spill," Dan echoed. "All the fun details you're comfortable sharing."

"No, _everything_ ," Marley insisted with an annoyed look at their assistant coach. "I want to know if I have to have Meg go through with pushing a certain stunted monkey fucker off a roof or not."

That absurd statement made Neil smile. "Would she? Really?"

"Only for _you_ , Shorty. See how much you're loved?"

"Yes, premeditated homicide is such a good way to prove it to me," Neil said, voice thick with sarcasm.

"Better than flowers any day," Marley snarked back, and Neil had to wonder about his life when half his friends at the table nodded in agreement and Dan merely sighed in weary resignation.

"It went well," he told them before Marley and Meg became too involved in any murder plots. "At least, I _think_ so." He frowned at his lunch as he thought about things. "I mean, this is all really new and overwhelming? And I'm still a bit mad at him for going to- well, for making that deal."

"Yeah, but he did it for _you_ ," Dan argued as she pointed a fork loaded with salad in Neil's direction. "The thing about Andrew is, as heavy-handed as he can be at times, he looks out for what he considers 'his'. And boy are you ever 'his'," she said with a smile.

"But does Neil _want_ to be his?" Marley wondered aloud. "Do you?"

Neil chewed on a piece of fish as he thought about that. "Yeah," he confessed. "With Andrew... I don't feel like I'm a belonging." It wasn't the same thing as being Ichirou's, that 'his'.

"Okay then, we get used to dealing with one grumpy Fox being around all the time." Marley grimaced as she sprinkled some more chili powder on her food and then Neil's. "What _is_ it with that team? First Meg and then you. Good thing I'm immune to all this mushiness and hickeys."

Dan gave her a smug grin while Janna shook her head and groaned. "Well, us Foxes are pretty damn hot."

"And you've just jinxed yourself, my girl," Janna warned Marley. "I know, I know, you're not into that, but just you wait and see, you've jinxed yourself."

"Andrew does have a twin brother," Neil teased, even if Aaron was already in a committed relationship, and laughed when Marley flipped him off.

"I share my precious spices with you and this is how you treat me? Go back to hell, you devil."

The talk thankfully shifted onto the new recruits after that (though Neil knew it was just a temporary reprieve) and Dan informed them that Edgar Allan would be hosting the Winter banquet that year.

Jean was just as 'curious' when Neil talked to him that evening and seemed taken aback that Andrew had agreed to a professional career in Exy. " _Really? All that effort? I... don't know what to say_."

" _That's a first, let's mark this day down_."

" _You could learn a bit of reticence from your new boyfriend, devil_ ," Jean snapped.

" _He's not my boyfriend_ ," Neil argued as he stretched out on the couch and fought not to scratch at the gel pad on his cheek.

" _Did you or did you not spend the weekend with him and come back with some suspicious marks on your neck? Rather aggressive mosquitos there, hmm_?"

" _I hate you_ ," Neil grumbled as he fought not to rub his neck right then, and he hated Marley for ratting him out. " _And it's... complicated_."

" _Only if you make it that way_ ," Jean said in a rather haughty tone of voice. " _Which of course you will_."

" _Like you and Knox, hmm_?"

The conversation went downhill from there (Jean seemed to have picked up a few new swear words from his new teammates, which was fun), but Neil was smiling when he hung up. Figuring he might as well get it out of the way, he called Stuart next and only had to wait about fifteen minutes for his uncle to get back to him.

Stuart asked how the cut was healing and if the press was still leaving him alone, and let Neil rant for a couple of minutes over knowing about Andrew's deal with Ichirou and not telling him.

"It was for your own good, kiddo."

"I'm getting tired of everyone knowing what's good for me," Neil complained as he tugged on the cuffs of his sweatpants.

"Yeah, well, do everyone a favor and just play that game of yours for a while and stay out of trouble, okay? He's not my first pick for you - not even in the top ten - but the runt seems intent on looking after you. Guess you could do worse."

"I don't want to talk about this with you," Neil gritted out, tired of everyone butting in to his... _whatever_... with Andrew, too.

"Thank _god_." Stuart sounded so relieved just then that Neil wondered if he should be offended.

"Uhm, so, do you think I'll be in New York this weekend? I know you said to stay put for a while."

"You should be good for another week," Stuart informed him, his tone serious once more. "We're still cleaning up a bit, best if you stay out of sight a little longer. Go do... have fun with the runt. Just not _too_ much fun, okay?"

"Okay." Despite himself, Neil smiled at the barely masked horror in his uncle's rough voice. "Be careful."

He texted Andrew to let him know that he'd be available that weekend and scoffed when the asshole replied 'will check my busy schedule and let you know'. "Can you shoot him?" he asked Bren, who once again was over poaching the whisky.

"Who?" When Neil held up his phone, Bren frowned and then shrugged. "You mean Andrew? Sure I can, but you certain you want me to?"

"Right now? Yes."

"That's because you haven't been snogged in a few hours. Wait ‘til he's back and you'll change your mind."

"Can I borrow your gun and shoot you?"

"See, you're going through withdrawals there, Red. How cute."

Neil needed to get a decent set of throwing knives, he did.

"I think I could be making better life choices," Neil told Marley as they got ready for bed that night.

"You're just _now_ figuring that out?" she asked him, her expression incredulous. "Hate to tell you, Shorty, but I think that ship has long sailed."

"See that right there?" Neil pointed his finger at his partner. "Example A. I'm trading you for Bailey." Bailey barely talked to him, so he'd be assured a nice, quiet partner at last.

"She'll be dead from nosebleeds within two days," Marley scoffed, "and you'd miss me, you would."

"Bailey suffers from nosebleeds?" He hadn't noticed that - would that affect her playing? You weren't allowed to bleed on court.

Marley looked upward as if praying. "So adorable yet clueless, no wonder even a grouch like SMF couldn't resist."

"You're not helping with the whole 'trade you for another partner' thing," Neil warned as he all but collapsed on his bed. "That and I'm wondering if he might not fall under 'make a better choice'."

"Why would you say that?" Marley joined him on the bed. "Explain."

"It's just...." Neil gnawed on his bottom lip as he struggled to put his thoughts into words, anxious now that he had time to think about things, his thoughts going around in circles. "Is this a mistake? Is he ruining his life because of me?"

"Andrew doesn't strike me as someone who does stuff he'll regret - he's a 'yeah I did it, now live with it' type if I ever saw one." She grabbed one of the quilts and draped it over Neil's shoulders. "I think the only one who's concerned over his deal with Ichirou is you."

That didn't exactly reassure Neil. "And us being together? What do you think about that?"

"The only one who didn't see that coming was you, apparently," Marley told him with a good bit of exasperation. "As long as he treats you well I'm fine with it, and it's not like I expect him to do otherwise. But I really will make sure he's pushed off a roof if he doesn't." There was something almost predatory in her eyes just then, something that made him believe her.

"I don't know what I'm doing," Neil admitted as he gave voice to one of his fears.

"Hasn't stopped you before." Marley laughed at the sour look he gave her. "Come on, you think _I_ do? It's the blind leading the very near-sighted, Shorty. At least you can make out vague, very fuzzy shapes. Try squinting a little." She seemed to think about something as he shoved her away. "Okay, try squinting a _lot_ ," she said while laughing.

“Why do I even bother?”

“Because you love me,” she stated as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

“Like I said, I need to make better life choices,” he grumbled, which made her hum in pleasure. “And don’t push him off a roof, too many potential witnesses and too obvious. You can come up with something better than that, surely.”

“Ha!” Marley scooted down a little on the bed so she could rest her head on his shoulder. “Hmm… oh! How about I get some really good toxins or something from Maddy’s lab? Something nice and potent?”

“Just as long as it can’t be traced back to either of you and she won’t turn you in.”

“Nah, she’s solid and I have a ton of dirt on her,” Marley said with pride. “Beside, knowing her she’ll probably do it just for a test case.”

Neil wasn’t certain he wanted to meet the rest of Marley’s family. “Okay then, what’s the next step?” It reminded him of the times when he and his mother would plot out how to go about robbing places for things they needed or dealing with any ‘problems’.

Marley was rather good at it.

Andrew’s text the next morning read ‘might be able to fit you in’. Neil showed it to Marley who scoffed and said ‘yeah, right’ and made smoothies for them while he texted back ‘sorry, too busy now planning your imminent death’. Then he put his phone on ‘silent’ and drank the smoothie before they headed to court.

“Maddy said that there are some really powerful airborne toxins,” Marley told him as they watched the freshmen work on the second drill. “She’s gonna call me later tonight, think she’s really excited that I’m showing an interest in her work for once.”

Neil shrugged a little and held up a hand to ‘pause’ the conversation while he went to correct Teagan’s hold on her racquet. “Never hurts to learn more about these things,” he said when he came back; it was just a joke, a fun way to pass some time before they’d gone to bed, but one never knew when something like it could come in handy.

“Yep. Plus, you know, one less reason for people to fuck with us. Not only are we gorgeous and talented as hell, but we can make their lungs melt and eyes bleed if we want.”

Of course that was when Dan came over, probably to check on the freshmen, and she stopped a couple of feet away and sighed, her expression one of confused horror for a couple of seconds. “Why did I ever believe that you guys would be _normal_? And people think the _Foxes_ are a mess?”

“We’re champions,” Marley sneered with an elegant curl of her upper lip. “We do what we want.”

“You’re _not_ melting people’s lungs, sweetheart, I hate to break it to you, and oh my fucking god I never thought I’d have to say that to someone, even after three years with the Monsters.” Dan rubbed her face and sighed again, then looked at Neil as if it was his fault. “Well?”

“I’d much rather shoot them, personally, but Bren won’t lend me his gun,” Neil admitted, mindful to keep his voice pitched low because of the freshmen not too far away.

“That’s not – you know what, I’m beginning to understand why Coach drinks so much,” Dan muttered. “Focus more on the freshmen and less on something that’s going to get you committed or arrested, possibly both,” she told them before stomping off.

“I think she misses Matt,” Marley mused as they watched her leave. “The loneliness is making her grouchy.”

“Or something,” Neil agreed, then went over to show Allie what she was doing wrong.

Andrew called right after dinner, when Neil was up in the East Tower again so Marley could talk to her sister in their room (that and whenever the freshmen stopped by to drop off things, they tended to hang around and stare at him).

“Why am I being killed?” Andrew asked in a bored manner.

“Hmm, no, not telling.” Neil smiled as he brought his feet up on the couch. “Where’s the fun in that?”

“So killing me is fun?” Andrew now sounded mildly curious.

“Of course, why wouldn’t it be?”

It was quiet on the other line while Andrew exhaled. “I think your issues are multiplying, as improbable as that seems.”

“Hmm, probably,” Neil agreed. “If only I had someone to talk to about them.”

“You do, if he hasn’t checked himself into a mental institution already,” Andrew reminded him. “But I suppose I can return this weekend and see what pathetic ideas you’ve come up with in regards to homicide as well as discover what new issues you’ve unearthed in the past… it hasn’t even been forty-eight hours, you know.” He clicked his tongue. “This isn’t a contest.”

Neil felt something inside of him grow light and warm now that he knew Andrew was coming back that weekend. “Would I be winning if it was?”

“The only thing I hate more than you is being alive,” Andrew said in a deadpan voice before he hung up.

Neil smiled down at his phone until Bren cleared his throat. “Look, I’m pretty sure that’s not how you flirt, death threats and all – just saying,” his friend told him.

Neil frowned as he tucked the phone into the front pocket of his hoodie. “How did you and Janna start dating?”

Bren gazed at him for a couple of seconds before clearing his throat again and pouring more whisky. “Never mind.”

“Oh, and who said we’re flirting?” Neil cocked his head to the side as he gazed at his friend. “That’s just how we talk to each other.”

There was a choking sound from the bar area for a couple of seconds before Bren gulped down his drink. “Red… _Neil_. No damn wonder it took you this long to figure things out between you and Andrew, that’s all I’m gonna say.” He jabbed a finger in Neil’s direction before pouring himself another drink (it seemed to be a bad day for some reason), while Neil shrugged and texted Andrew to ask when he thought he’d arrive on Saturday.

He might not quite understand everything that was happening between the two of them and he still might want to inflict bodily harm on Andrew for dealing with Ichirou in regards to him (though sometimes the details on what _type_ of bodily harm grew a bit… fuzzy… when he thought about his friend), and he definitely was growing annoyed with his friends’ input on the thing between him and Andrew, but Neil knew he looked forward to continuing it all the same. For the first time in much too long, he looked forward to something (that wasn’t Exy-related).

It was so dangerous to hope again, to put his trust in something, but it was _Andrew_. Neil wrapped his arms around his knees and tucked his chin on top of them, and dared to believe that this time, it wouldn’t be a mistake because of _Andrew_.

*******

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *******  
> That was rather fluffy, wasn't it? I mean, for this fic. I think it was fluffy. I hope it wasn't too fluffy. 
> 
> As for Andrew and his 'nothing' and relationship thoughts... he's been dealing with Neil and Bee and all of this for over two years. I think it's rather difficult for him to go all 'yeah, no, we're nothing' when he's had to focus a lot more on Neil in this AU, on their interactions and everything, instead of in the books where they just fall into their 'relationship/not-relationship'. Plus, he didn't have to deal with the additional trauma of Drake and Proust, but focused on dealing with things for Neil's sake.
> 
> More Neil and his take on things in the next chapter. It just worked out to be a heavy Andrew chapter in this one.
> 
> Uhm... anything I forgot? Thank you SO MUCH for the comments to last chapter. And NO, there's still at least several chapters left - year four is going to take at least a few to work through as I focus on it, and a couple (at least) for year five before Neil graduates. I never intended to make the boys wait until the very end to get together, but they've got a few things to deal with now that they've finally cleared a major hurdle or two to that happening.
> 
> THAT SAID, I have to get some writing done on the big bang fic - work will be busy next week and this is at a good place to go back to every other week again.
> 
> As always, thank you so much for comments and kudos!  
> *******


	25. We Can Float Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this is late being posted so I'll try to make the previous summary short. Basically? FLUFF (well, fluff for this story). Andrew showed up at Edgar Allan and let Neil know that he'd made a deal with Ichirou, that Neil was able to talk to him face to face again (Neil was freaking out about him being there) and Neil was a wee bit miffed about that. However, Neil went off with Andrew (and Bren and Janna) to spend the weekend with Andrew and the two FINALLY moved forward with some sort of relationship. It's not perfect and it's clear that Neil needs to adjust to being 'free' and with someone he actually he wants/care for, which is something Andrew will help him with.
> 
> Yeah, like I said, mostly fluffy.
> 
> This chapter is sort of a bridge chapter/continuation of the last, as it deals with a lot of things that the previous one didn't have the time to focus on (and I sorta feel bad about because I don't want people to think they were ignored). Year Four won't be 'rushed'/compressed for what I think should be obvious reasons now, and this chapter gets us to the start of the school year. 
> 
> Warnings? Just Neil and Andrew working on things and vague mention of the past, so nothing new.
> 
> Thanks to Fall-for-the-Game for beta'ing most of the chapter for me!
> 
> And OMFG people, Fornavngoesexy has been posting the most amazing fanart of this fic, especially the last chapter! [here](https://fornavngoesexy.tumblr.com/image/173868624732) and [here](https://fornavngoesexy.tumblr.com/image/173744236992) and [here](https://fornavngoesexy.tumblr.com/image/173134351542) and MORE (hopefully I didn't mess up the links).  
> *******

*******

The week back at Evermore after spending two nights with Andrew had started off well, only to go downhill fast. Neil was busy training the freshmen when Masato, followed by a scowling Bren, told him that Brine and ASICS would be out the next morning to do some promotional shoots of him and Marley on the court and campus, and that he had an interview lined up for later that day. Dan came by and took to arguing with the man about how Neil was still healing and ended up rebuffed, then went stalking over to Noguchi who merely shook his head.

Neil had to wonder if it had somehow been decided that if he could spend his weekends with Andrew, he could resume earning money, and didn’t say anything when Dan complained about the situation at lunch. Instead, he focused on the list of interview questions he’d been given by Masato and the ‘suggested’ answers.

Exy World and several other sports magazines were there for the interview, along with someone from the university, and Neil sat in front of them in his black and red outfit with a slight smile on his face and the healing scar on his cheek exposed, a thin red line thanks to the skillful stitches and care from the no doubt expensive doctors who’d tended to it. He answered questions about the ‘car’ accident and the upcoming year, about his new role as the Ravens’ captain and how he expected the team to continue its winning streak.

It was awful, sitting there and smiling and lying (something which was as natural to him as breathing) without Jean next to him, while knowing that he was responsible for the team, well aware of what failure meant to his friends. He had to hide his trembling hands in his lap and felt as if he’d played two entire games back to back when it was all over, he was that drained and exhausted.

That night he dreamed of the Trojans walking away with the division’s trophy, of Noguchi being replaced by Kubo because the Ravens had lost, of Jean being handed to some of Ichirou’s people because Neil had failed, of Marley beaten and broken. He lay in bed covered with sweat and his heart pounding in his chest as he thought about all the ways he could let the people who mattered to him down, how he couldn’t fail.

And now Andrew had made a deal with Ichirou, too. How would he be hurt if Neil didn’t come through in the end?

He forced himself to get up and choke down a smoothie and pretend that everything was all right come morning (Marley gave him an intent look and remained close by his side), and after a brief warm-up and time spent with the freshmen, he and Marley spent the rest of the day being filmed and photographed all over campus for their two endorsement deals. By evening, not even Marley could show any enthusiasm over the photo shoots and the fact that she’d soon be all over the internet and Exy magazines in her Ravens uniform.

“ _How many different ways is there for me to jump while holding a damn racquet_?” she muttered while twirling one of Brine’s latest models. “ _And **why** am I jumping so much_?”

“ _If I have to bend over and stretch one more time I’m going to scream_ ,” Neil complained. “ _I’m getting dizzy from doing it so much_.”

They finished up the day by running around the quad for half an hour, and not even the free shoes and clothes they were given made up for the grueling day. Neil spent half an hour in the shower as he thought about the next week in New York, how there would be more photo shoots and probably a couple of interviews, too, how he was the ‘face’ of Ravens and….

He couldn’t waste any time, couldn’t risk the team losing because of him.

Marley was waiting for him as soon as he stepped into the bedroom; she all but pushed him onto his bed, wrapped him in the quilts, shoved the fox plushie into his arms and a mug of tea into his hands. “No,” she told him. “We’re not doing this, okay?”

He blinked at her a couple of times, a bit dazed by the flurry of activity and mind a little sluggish as all he wanted was to go to sleep, to shut out the world for a short while. “Do what?”

“You think I don’t know what you’re about to do? After the last couple of years?” She knelt beside him and shook her head. “Okay, yeah, we had a bit of a slow learning curve cause you’re a sneaky bastard, Shorty, but not this time.” When he blinked again while sipping the tea, she sighed. “What’s going through that pretty head of yours right now, hmm?”

He blanked a little on the word ‘pretty’ then jolted a little when she gave him a gentle tap on his forehead, but not enough to spill the tea. “Uhm… I don’t know what-“

“You’re freaking out, aren’t you?” Marley didn’t give him a chance to lie or deny anything. “You’re going all quiet again and you didn’t eat much tonight, and your eyes….” She shook her head and sat down next to him. “You’re freaking out again.”

Neil was quiet as he had more tea, the fox hugged tight against his chest. “We can’t lose,” he said in a rough voice when he lowered the mug.

“We’re not going to,” Marley assured him. “The team’s tight, the new freshmen are coming along and Noguchi’s happy with our progress.” She rested her head against his, a welcome presence against his side. “Unlike last year, nothing’s distracting the team – we’re not dealing with Riko or… or the press hounding us or any of that stuff. We’re in a good place, Neil, so trust us, okay? Yeah, Jean was one of our best players but we’re still good.”

He didn’t say anything until after he finished the tea. “But maybe I should stay here this weekend and focus on-“

“ _No_ ,” Marley cut him off again. “Neil… you _need_ to get away. If you stay here then you’ll just be out on the court until you pass out, so go off with Andrew and do whatever you do with a stunted monkey fucker.” She chuckled as she gave him a light poke on his still bruised neck. “I know this is _me_ saying this, but Dan might be on to something about that whole ‘more to life than Exy’, just a _little_. You need a break before you burn yourself out and Andrew’s obviously willing to provide it.”

Neil blushed a little at the mention of Andrew. “I don’t… Andrew shouldn’t have to go through all that trouble for me. I can stay here and still take it easy,” he insisted even as he hugged the fox tighter to his chest.

Marley was quiet for a moment before she gave him a slight nudge in the side. “Why don’t you want to go this weekend?”

He slumped a little lower against the wall until his head rested on her shoulder. “I don’t want to mess up, to fail. I don’t want us to lose and it be because I was enjoying things with Andrew.” For Andrew to be blamed for Neil’s shortcomings.

“Do you spend hours thinking up these things or what?” Marley asked as she toyed with Neil’s hair. “Oh Shorty, you worry too damn much, have I told you that lately?” When he went to say something, she gave a quick tug to his hair. “No, you _do_ , Jean would agree. Now listen to me, okay? I want this team to win just as much as you do, and I’m telling you that we’re fine. What’s going to mess us up is you being an utter wreck because you’re exhausted and strung out with worry, so unless you _don’t_ want to spend time with Andrew, go be with your boyfriend.”

“Not my boyfriend,” Neil mumbled as he pressed the fox against his suddenly flushed face.

“Spend the weekend with your not-boyfriend,” Marley reiterated. “ _If_ you want to spend time with him. But if you stay here then I’m dragging you to Dan’s rather than letting you stay near a court, just so you know.”

Neil sighed into the soft ‘fur’ of the fox and shook his head. “No, I like being with Andrew.” He did, even if it was confusing at times and he felt as if he messed everything up, that he went too far or not far enough or didn’t know what was happening and was such an idiot. “I’ll go.”

“Okay.” Marley gave him a kiss on the forehead. “Get some sleep and stop worrying so much.”

He scoffed at that because it wasn’t an easy thing, to stop worrying, but at least if he went to bed then she wouldn’t fuss over him or worse, bring up the ‘b’ word.

He got a little more sleep that night, but not much. The next day was spent trying to make up for the time lost to the photo shoots, and wasn’t helped out by having Andritch and some members of the board stop by as if to check on things. Noguchi and Dan were stuck talking with them while Jake and Neil worked with the team, all too aware of the eyes on them, of how the team was being analyzed to see if there were any problems or signs of trouble.

“I’m about to take Bren’s precious whisky away from him and drink it myself,” Neil told Jean when they spoke that evening, which made Bren snort in derision and pretend to put a possessive arm around the bottle of alcohol. “At least it’s Friday, but I don’t want to know what’s in store next week.” He didn’t want to think how it would be when the official season started.

“Once you win a game or two and prove to them that you’re still the best it’ll calm down,” Jean assured him. “It’ll be fine.”

Neil hoped so, because he didn’t want to think about how he’d deal with a distant Ichirou.

They spent the rest of the time talking about Jean and how his practices were going, how he was fitting in with the rest of the Barons (mostly well – a few of them resented a ‘rookie’ getting so much attention and his obvious talent, but there wasn’t much Jean could do about that) and his almost daily calls with Knox (‘how can he have so much to talk about?’).

Neil had trouble sleeping again that night, his dreams fragments where Ichirou had Stuart shoot Andrew for some nebulous reason or Andrew walked away from Neil in disgust or Riko found Neil on court and unleashed a gang of Federovs and Johnsons and Bautistas upon him, to hold him down and tear off his clothes and-

He missed Jean _so much_ , missed the way his partner could calm him down with murmured assurances in French and a gentle hand pressed against his chest and a warm, solid presence against his back. He missed his mother, missed her thin body stiff against his own, missed the harsh tug to his hair to wake him up before he made a sound in his sleep, missed the feel of the gun beneath the pillow and her cold feet tangled with his own.

He pushed the freshmen hard that morning, set them up for the third drill and was quick to point out any mistakes yet congratulated them when they got the tricky footwork down pat, mindful of how he’d struggled to master it himself. They couldn’t be coddled, not if they wanted to succeed, if they wanted to be _Ravens_ , and the fact that there was a gleam of determination in their eyes while they struggled meant that he and Noguchi had picked well.

He was so focused on the freshmen that he was startled to look up toward the end of practice and notice Andrew sitting on one of the benches watching him, a cigarette between his full lips and a blank expression on his handsome face. Neil almost started at the sight before he forced himself to focus on Dominic instead, to make sure that the backliner didn’t trip over his feet anymore.

As soon as Noguchi called an end to practice, Neil motioned to the freshmen that they could stop and gave them a cool look for their grins and smirks before Marley ran over to him and snatched away his racquet. “Go wash off and make yourself pretty for the MF,” she told him with a grin of her own.

“Give me the racquet back so I can hit you with it,” he asked, his fingers twitching when she laughed and danced out of his reach.

Dan was waiting for him near the locker room, which made him groan internally and decide that it was indeed a good idea to get the hell off campus for the weekend. “Get some rest, okay? You’re looking a little ragged which is a bad thing, especially when the season hasn’t even started.” She folded her muscular biceps over her chest. “You’re going to be good this year, right? Not set a bad example for these kids and push yourself too hard?”

“I’m gonna teach them to be winners,” Neil told her through gritted teeth. “In other words, the opposite of how to be a _Fox_.”

Anger flashed over her face for a moment before she let out a slow breath and stepped aside. “Go wash off the stink and that bad attitude then have fun with Andrew. Maybe when you come back you’ll be a nice kid again.”

“I’m never a nice kid,” he mumbled as he walked past, and scowled when she tousled his sweat-soaked hair.

“Keep telling yourself that, kiddo!”

Neil _really_ needed to see if he could just stay with Jean the next time he visited and manage an early draft somehow.

He washed off in record time and met up with Bren in the locker room; his friend had the bag that he’d packed the night before in his hand and a travel mug of tea in the other. “You ready? Everything’s set, we’re just waiting for you.”

“Yeah.” Neil rubbed at his aching eyes and followed Bren outside, where Marley gave him a hug ‘goodbye’ and chided him to rest up before she went off with Dan for some breakfast.

Andrew was waiting for him in the parking lot, a picture of insolence leaning against the Maserati who only moved when Bren threw Neil’s bag in his direction. He didn’t say anything as he set it in the back of the car and Neil slipped into the passenger seat, preferring to be quiet until they got onto the highway and Neil finished his tea.

“You look like shit.”

“Thanks,” Neil drawled as he set the mug in one of the drink holders. “It’s… you ever have one of those weeks that just implode on you?”

Andrew gave a quiet grunt as he drove around a slow moving car in the fast lane.

“Yeah, well, that was this week.” Neil gave a mirthless laugh as he rubbed at the left side of his face, mindful of the gel patch on his right cheek. “Should be used to it by now.”

“No Ichirou shit though, right?”

Neil glanced at Andrew and caught the tension in his friend’s broad shoulders despite the nonchalant expression on his face. “No… at least not directly. He was probably behind me having to do the marketing campaigns, but I’m supposed to make him money, aren’t I?” He gave a bitter smile as he slumped against the door.

Andrew was quiet for a minute or two before he clicked his tongue. “Such a cheerful little bird.”

“Yeah,” Neil sighed. “It’s probably going to be a nightmare when I go to New York next weekend – non-stop photo shoots.” He shuddered in horror.

“Matheson and Hurst would give their right kidneys to be in your place,” Andrew told him.

“Can I take them up on that offer?” Neil swore he saw a slight twitch in the corner of his friend’s mouth and smiled. “It’s just so annoying and exhausting. “ He hated having all that attention on him, having people touch him as they fussed with his face and hair and clothes, as they positioned him about and put on make-up and everything else that went into the pictures.

“Everything about you is exhausting.”

“So it seems.” Neil closed his eyes and hummed a little as Andrew lit a cigarette, as he thought about riding in a car while his mother smoked as she drove them to another new city, another new country. “Especially if you’re a lazy goth.”

“How nice that we’re going to a big forest where I can drop your lifeless body in a ditch somewhere, without having to bother with digging a hole.”

“ _Lazy_ ,” Neil sang out, his voice just cracking a bit.

“Dead little bird,” Andrew replied back in a monotone manner.

Neil drifted in and out the rest of the way to the cabin, and when they got there, he found himself standing uncertainly in the middle of the place while Andrew dropped off their bags and checked the rooms once more. He started when Bren gave him a friendly pat ‘goodbye’ and rubbed at his eyes, all of sudden left feeling drained and cold, feeling like a cracked cup with its contents slowly running out.

“Neil.”

He started again at the sound of Andrew’s voice, so deep and solemn, and forced himself to summon a smile. “Yeah?”

There was a hint of a frown on his friend’s face as Andrew approached; he stopped about a foot away and slowly reached out but didn’t touch Neil’s face until Neil gave a slight nod. “Why are you here this weekend?”

The question made Neil frown as his confusion grew. “To be with you.”

A nearly silent sigh escaped past Andrew’s full lips and his tobacco-scented fingers stroked along Neil’s left cheek. “Let’s try again. What do you want to do this weekend?” His hazel eyes regarded Neil with a steady intensity, and Neil found himself floundering just then, left without guidelines when dealing with someone so unobvious about their wants.

He knew where he stood with Ichirou (knew how to please his lord, knew most of his moods, knew how to placate him when uncertain), had known how to deal with Riko (to steady himself for pain and more pain), had been an extension of his mother for all those years (had known what to expect from her, when to run and brace himself and accept). But he didn’t know Andrew, not quite. He didn’t know what to do with Andrew who didn’t hurt him or break him or use him, for his own good or not.

“You’re thinking too hard,” Andrew scolded as his fingers slid into Neil’s hair and urged his head forward until their foreheads touched. “What do you want now? Tell me the truth, Neil, the first thing that comes into that empty space between your ears.” He ignored the scowl Neil gave him for that comment. “Do you want me to take you back to the Nest? To New York to see Moreau? Somewhere else?”

“No,” Neil breathed out, even though he missed Jean so much. “I do… I do want to be with you but….” He felt Andrew’s fingers tighten in his hair and then begin to slide away at that ‘but’, which made him loosely wrap his own around Andrew’s wrist. “I wanna sleep,” he admitted. “I’m so tired.”

Andrew was still and quiet at that admission but he didn’t pull away anymore, he merely stared at Neil for several seconds before he scoffed. “Of course you are, I told you that you look like shit.” When he straightened up, he brushed his lips against Neil’s forehead. “Then you sleep. I told you, this is about what you want.”

“But… but what about what _you_ want?” Neil asked as he continued to loosely hold on to Andrew’s wrist even as he was led into the one bedroom.

“I’m away from the morons for the weekend and you’ll be too unconscious to talk, it’s a win-win for me,” Andrew drawled before he pointed at the bed. “Now shut up and sleep.”

Neil hesitated for a moment before he sat down on the large bed. “I want to, but it’s difficult.” He rubbed his hands along his opposite arms as he gave his friend a sheepish smile. “I miss Jean.”

Andrew regarded him for a couple of seconds before clicking his tongue. “Lie down,” he ordered before he walked out of the room; Neil shrugged before he decided ‘why not’ and made himself comfortable.

He was still awake when Andrew returned with an armful of items – a bag of cookies, some beer, his e-reader and cigarettes, which he set on the nightstand. “Scoot over,” he told Neil, who was only too happy to do so while smiling.

There was a little space between them as Andrew sat with his legs stretched in front of him, but it was still someone next to Neil, was a warm body he trusted, the sound of breathing and a solid presence in bed. He turned his back to Andrew and closed his eyes, and was asleep before Andrew could start on the cookies.

He thought he felt Andrew get up a time or two, but the exhaustion dragged him back down to sleep, as did the faint feel of fingers in his hair or along his arm, and all was well again. It wasn’t until the annoying growl of his empty stomach and nudge from his full bladder pushed Neil back into consciousness that he gave up on sleeping, his head feeling as if it was stuffed full of wool and body languid.

“It’s about damn time,” Andrew complained, his voice rough from smoking and the room cast with shadows.

“What… how late is it?” Neil asked, his own voice raspy from sleep.

“After six. You have to be hungry.”

“Yeah.” Neil rubbed at his eyes and groaned as he sat up, then stumbled into the bathroom once Andrew got out of his way.

He joined his friend in the kitchen once he was done and smiled when he spotted the kettle on for tea. “What’s dinner?”

“Spaghetti.” Andrew paused in retrieving the ingredients from the cabinets to see if he’d complain and nodded once when Neil went to sit on the counter. “Stay out of my way.”

“Yes, sir.” Neil even gave him a salute and laughed when a spoon was thrown at him.

“Better?” Andrew asked once the pot of water was set to boil.

“Yeah.” Neil ran his fingers through his hair and winced when they hit a tangle. “Marley’s on me not to panic again, but it… it was hard this week, with them showing up like that for the photographs and going on about us being the undefeated champions and the university poking about on top.”

Andrew waited until the sauce was dumped into another pot and the frozen meatballs in the oven before he came over to place his hands on either side of Neil’s hips and lean in. “Don’t be an idiot. Just focus on playing and surprise me by not breaking down for once.”

Neil glared at the asshole. “I don’t do it for the hell of it.”

“No, but it doesn’t help anything when you do,” Andrew said, then let out a slow breath as he gazed up at Neil. “Aren’t things better now?”

Neil felt some of his building anger melt away at the question and slid down to stand on his feet as he held out his hands, which he placed on Andrew’s shoulders after receiving a slight nod. “I’m terrified of being out there on that court without Jean,” he admitted. “He’s had my back for three years.”

“He’d be the first one to tell you that you’re strong enough to stand on your own,” Andrew reassured him. “Anyone as annoying as you is going to make it just to piss the rest of us off.”

Neil gazed back for several seconds and couldn’t hold back the laughter at that ridiculous statement – the worst part of it was that he could hear Jean, French accent and all, say much the same thing. “I wu-will, too,” he hiccupped as he slumped a little against the asshole.

“Annoying,” Andrew sighed.

“Hmm.” Neil nudged him along the jaw before he breathed out ‘yes?’, and felt something inside of him relax as they kissed until the water began to boil over in the pot – something he felt very familiar with at the moment, because somehow Andrew could roil him up with just the press of lips, the feel of fingers in his hair and sliding along his back, the nip of teeth beneath his ear and solid body against his own.

Despite seeing a familiar want in his friend’s almost golden eyes, Andrew did pull away to dump the pasta in the boiling water, and ordered Neil to fetch him a beer rather than tug Neil in close again.  Instead they stood near each other while Andrew seemed to throw a random assortment of herbs into the sauce and stirred the cooking pasta.

“What if I want to… I don’t know, be an idiot again?” Neil asked after a couple of minutes.

Andrew scoffed at that while he started spreading butter on a loaf of bread – Neil thought he was making garlic bread. “You enjoy the freezing cold showers and freaking people out?”

Neil was quiet for a moment as he stirred the bubbling sauce. “Sometimes being numb isn’t bad,” he confessed.

It was quiet as Andrew seemed to concentrate on the bread. “No, it isn’t,” he agreed. “Is that what you want?”

“I trust you.” Andrew was one of the very few people Neil _did_ trust. “But I’d rather be numb than have you hurt me.” Pain he could take, had grown used to over the years, had been one of the first lessons taught to him. But for _Andrew_ to be the one inflicting it upon him? No, Neil would rather hollow himself out once and for all.

He looked up from the sauce when Andrew came over to put the bread in the oven and tried to smile. “I can’t promise _that_ ,” Andrew said, his voice low and hoarse. “No one can. But I’ll never do it on purpose, I swear to you. Never on a whim or just to hurt you.”

“Thank you.” Neil smiled in earnest that time; he couldn’t trust such a promise as ‘I’ll never hurt you’, not after everything he’d been through, not when he knew how easy it was for life to take a promise and make a travesty of it.

“Now get out of my way,” he was told again, which he did while Andrew finished preparing their meal, and grabbed the plates and silverware they’d need to eat then set the table.

Andrew had some whisky and Neil water with the meal, which was simple but good. Neil made a joke or two about carbs and Andrew trying to bulk up, which earned him a crust thrown at his face.

They watched a movie after he washed the dishes, and if he wondered if they might be taking a step ‘back’ after the previous weekend… then Andrew let him nestle against his side during the film which settled something in Neil, made him feel comfortable and safe after an exhausting week.

He realized that he didn’t have to kiss Andrew all of the time to feel good (although it _was_ very nice), that being with his friend made him just as happy. It wasn’t the same as being with Marley and Jean, not quite, because there was a pool of warmth inside of him and an awareness of Andrew at all times, an awareness that didn’t have anything to do with fear or self-preservation (for once).

They did make out some more before going to bed, Andrew’s kisses fierce but his hands gentle on Neil’s body; Neil felt more and more certain that at any point he could get up and walk away, could stop things and Andrew wouldn’t protest, wouldn’t grab him and push him down, wouldn’t hold it against him, wouldn’t walk the other way and never speak to him again.

Wouldn’t hurt him in some way other than physical (which he could bear after these last few years).

They slept on the couches again, and despite his long nap earlier, Neil slept through the night until the sun rose the next morning. He got up and made oatmeal, then looked at the pancake mix in the cabinets and figured ‘why not?’. Andrew had said something about them a couple of times, right? It couldn’t be that hard.

A bleary-eyed Andrew stumbled into the kitchen and stared blankly at Neil, who was covered in flour and wet pancake mix as he attempted to master flipping the damn things, then pulled out his phone to take what seemed to be several pictures. “Oh _fuck_ you,” Neil growled before yelping as he almost dropped the pancake he was trying to flip.

Andrew ignored him long enough to make himself a cup of coffee then hip-checked him out of the way. “You suck at life,” he stated with a slight sneer. “Out of the way.”

“It’s not like we’re in a kitchen much,” Neil argued as he took a step back. “Because we’re busy _winning_.”

“Because you’re busy being a whiny little Exy junkie, you are,” Andrew shot back as he flipped a pancake with ease. “You disgust me.”

“Hmm, so much that you had your tongue down my throat last night,” Neil reminded him.

Andrew glanced around as if looking for something. “Where’s a knife? I’m about to shove something else down that throat.”

Neil decided to grab his oatmeal from the stove and get out of the way, even if he shot the bastard a smirking grin as he walked over to the table.

He’d just about finished his breakfast when Andrew sat down with a huge stack of pancakes all but drowned in syrup and butter, which made Neil gag a little at the sight. “How are you _not_ in some sort of sugar coma by now?”

“I’m just lucky, I guess,” Andrew said in a facetious manner before shoving a huge, dripping forkful of the mess into his mouth while staring Neil in the eye.

“Not the take I’d go with, but whatever.” Neil propped his chin up on his hand and fought not to grimace. “Does it at least give you an energy boost? Some sort of sugar rush?” He sighed when Andrew continued with the impassive stare. “Of course not.”

“So amusing.” Andrew had another mouthful of carbs. “Not.”

“I’m not listening to the man who thinks that he needs ten cups of sugar a day to survive.”

“It’s not a surprise you’re so scrawny, with all that hippie stuff you eat.” Andrew’s top lip curled the slightest amount as he pointed his fork at Neil’s empty bowl.

“Hippie?” Neil almost laughed at that comment. “Okay. So that makes you… yeah, no clue.”

“Not a hippie.”

“A few pints of ice cream away from renal failure,” Neil offered with a false smile.

He got a sticky fork smacked against his forehead for his troubles.

Somehow, he got stuck with the dishes again, then he finished watching the anime from the previous week while Andrew read a book. Once it was over, Andrew dragged Neil back into the kitchen while he baked some brownies and they argued over what sport they’d play if they weren’t involved in Exy (Neil thought he wouldn’t mind football – and got smacked until he called it ‘soccer’, Andrew went with skeet shooting because he got to shoot things and didn’t have to deal with other people very much, let alone exert much physical effort).

There was more teasing a certain someone about being a lazy goth, which may have ended with Neil pressed against the counter being kissed silent, something which he found that he didn’t mind at all – not when the person doing the kissing was Andrew. He was learning to accept how his body reacted to everything, that it was all right, was normal.

It wasn’t anything to endure anymore, but to look forward to, to know he’d been made to feel that way by someone he wanted for once.

The frustration felt good when Andrew pulled away, out of breath and slightly flushed, his hands clenched into fists and arousal evident in his black jeans. He turned away from Neil who also had to catch his breath and hunched over as he struggled for a few seconds to calm himself, to deal with something so new and strange. Part of him wanted to grab Andrew by the shoulders and pull him back into a kiss, to grind against him… but rest of Neil was afraid of what would happen next.

Of being a possession again.

Of being one of _those_ people who had used Andrew.

So he ran his hands through his hair and inhaled slowly until he felt in control once again, and smiled when Andrew came back over with a pair of oven mitts on to check on the brownies, an intent expression on his face.

“You’re just here because there’s an oven and no one else who wants to eat all your stupid carbs, aren’t you?” Neil teased. “I should text Bren and tell him to come over to have some brownies.”

“This oven is big enough to roast a little bird,” Andrew warned. “So go ahead.”

Neil made a show of sliding his phone free of his pocket, and laughed as those oven mitts wrapped around his head (mindful of the healing scar). Andrew, the bastard, made him eat a brownie with a scoop of ice cream to ‘teach him a lesson’, which had him sprawled out on the one couch with an upset stomach while the sugar addict ate a huge bowlful of dessert next to him.

As if to make it up to him, Neil got to pick dinner that night and, after going through the cabinets, he settled on peanut butter sandwiches, which reminded him of being on the run with his mother. It should have been a sad memory, but in all actuality, it wasn’t bad - not when he was with someone else who appeared determined to protect him, when he was on the couch next to Andrew as his friend tore the sandwiches into bite-sized pieces as they watched some horror movies.

It made him feel ‘normal’, made him feel safe.

He hoped it was the same for Andrew, who seemed quiet for the rest of the night, lost in thought as he smoked cigarettes and stared off into space. They settled on their ‘respective’ couches to go to sleep and, since he’d caught up on his rest, Neil woke up when Andrew got up during the night to go outside.

He debated if he should join his friend or not, but after several minutes Neil rose from the couch and went outside, too, pausing for a moment before he sat down on the porch next to Andrew but not too close. “It’s so strange to see the stars,” he remarked in a quiet voice as he gazed up at the sky. “It’s been a couple of years since I’ve seen them.” Millport hadn’t been so big that the light pollution had blocked them out, but for the most part he and his mother had stayed around major cities while traveling in Europe and North America. Then there’d been the Nest, and the few times he’d been out of it all night were when he’d been off in New York City.

Andrew gave a faint grunt and continued to smoke until the cigarette was finished. “You should be sleeping.”

“Hmm.” Neil tugged on the cuffs of his cat hoodie. “I’m not so tired anymore.” He chewed on his bottom lip as he glanced at Andrew out of the corner of his eye. “Am I bothering you?”

That time Andrew clicked his tongue “I should be asking you that.” He flicked the butt out onto the dirt road near Bren’s SUV and turned to face Neil. “Do you really want to be here?”

“Eh?” Neil twisted around as well. “What do- I told you I do.”

“Do you really?” Before Neil could answer, Andrew shook his head while he ran his fingers through his sleep-tousled hair. “I spoke with Bee about last week and… well, _fuck_.” He scowled at the space between them, the smooth floorboards of the porch. “Am I rushing you?”

Part of Neil wanted to reassure his friend, to tell him ‘no’… but Andrew was clearly bothered by something, by what was happening between them, and Andrew rarely let anything show. That fact made Neil take a slow breath and force his thoughts into some sort of order, made him _think_ about what he was about to say before he opened his mouth (for once). “I do want to be here,” he repeated. “And I don’t think you’re rushing anything.” He held out his left hand and smiled when Andrew slowly accepted it. “I… it really is new to me, and there was a part of me that was so happy to finally be with you, to do the things that I’d finally realized I wanted to do.” His expression grew a little wistful as his fingers tightened around Andrew’s. “But I think something inside of me now wants to make sure that I don’t ruin things, if that makes sense.” He held up their clasped hands. “So much of what I’ve wanted in the past was taken from me unless I paid a steep price for it. I don’t want to lose this.”

Andrew gazed at him for a few seconds, the moonlight casting the left side of his handsome face in shadows and making his hazel eyes gleam like gold, before he clicked his tongue. “That’s not going to happen, you idiot. No more deals, do you understand? I really will shove your empty head in an oven if you try anything like that again.”

“Says the asshole who made a deal for me,” Neil reminded the bastard as he attempted to tug his hand free, but Andrew wouldn’t allow it.

“That’s right, and now you’re my responsibility.” Andrew pulled until Neil huffed and crawled onto his lap. “No more deals, little bird,” he ordered with a stern tone.

“Someone’s a bossy goth when he doesn’t get his sixteen hours of sleep,” Neil complained as he draped his right arm over Andrew’s shoulder. “Which should be impossible in the first place, considering how much sugar you ingest.”

“Shut up,” Andrew said (still on the bossy streak), before he leaned in with clear intent. “Yes?”

“Yes,” Neil breathed out as he met Andrew for a kiss that started off harsh but slowly gentled as if Andrew grew more assured that Neil wasn’t going anywhere, that he didn’t _want_ to be anywhere else.

Neil might be confused often about what he should do and how he should react, but with each passing hour spent with Andrew, he was more and more certain _that_ was where he should be – with the young man. It didn’t make sense and it probably would terrify him if he thought about it too much… but it felt right.

Andrew pulled away with a muffled groan and gave Neil a light smack on the ass. “ _Move_. I have to be up in a couple of hours because of an idiot Exy junkie, I’m going back to bed.”

“Oh.” Neil frowned as his brain attempted to catch up with things, befuddled with breath-stealing kisses and the rasp of stubble and large, calloused hands stroking along his back. Another gentle smack made him jump a little and remember about morning practice. “Oh! Right, yeah.” He swore Andrew was inwardly smirking at him, the asshole. “What if I want to go back to the Nest now?” he asked as he stood up.

“Start walking,” Andrew told him as he went back into the cabin.

Neil really did have to start making better life choices, dammit.

*******

Andrew found some irony in sitting at Bee’s kitchen table eating pasta carbonara on a Wednesday evening as a makeshift session with the psychiatrist – not quite the same as when classes resumed, but not bad. Especially when he could see a container of cupcakes on the counter for dessert, instead of cups of hot chocolate.

“Then it went well, right?” Bee asked after he recounted the previous weekend with Neil. “That sounds rather good to me.”

Andrew frowned as he thought about everything. “I _think_ he’s grasping that he can say ‘no’ at any point. He’s always respected mine, but I wonder about him sometimes.” He wanted to be _certain_ or else he couldn’t trust Neil, couldn’t move things any further than they’d already gotten if not outright stop.

Bee appeared lost in thought as she twirled her pasta around on her fork. “I would think that he is, from what you told me. It needs to be reinforced and I’m not saying that he won’t slide back now and then, but the two of you have built up a strong base of trust which helps.” She gave him a proud smile. “Judging from his interviews, Neil can be quite outspoken if given a chance. Continue to let him know he can be that way with you on all things and you won’t have to worry so much.”

Andrew clicked his tongue in disgust as he reached for another slice of garlic bread. “You don’t have to put up with him running his mouth all of the time.”

“Somehow you’ll survive. Just blank your mind and look at the pretty picture he makes?” Bee laughed when Andrew gave her the finger. “Merely a suggestion.”

“Not very doctory of you,” Andrew pointed out as he waggled his middle finger in the air several times.

“I only suggest it to you because I’m rather certain you tune out people all of the time,” Bee argued with a sweet smile. “In all seriousness, I’m pleased and relieved to hear that the two of you slowed things down a little this time. While I understand that you had a lot of pent-up emotions, the last thing you want to do is rush into things. Taking it slow to ensure that you’re not overstepping boundaries is good.”

On one level Andrew agreed, and on another he’d been analyzing every little thing Neil had done or not done over the weekend to see if he’d messed up somehow, if Neil regretted anything from the week before. Did Neil being so tired mean that he’d had nightmares from Andrew pushing him too far? Did he want to sleep so he didn’t have to put up with Andrew? Did he only go along with things because of some sort of misplaced obligation?

Neil wanting to be with him even when they weren’t making out had helped to settle some of his doubts, as had Neil’s confession the one night. Andrew should have realized that it wouldn’t be so easy for them, had _realized_ it but leaving Neil after what had been a great weekend, after having what he wanted right there when it had been denied him so long… the doubts had set in almost immediately.

“So much for us running off to Las Vegas to get married,” Andrew drawled before he popped a piece of bread in his mouth, which made Bee chuckle about smart-ass brats. No, no rushing with Neil even if Andrew wanted (that detested emotion again) so badly to push the gorgeous idiot against the nearest wall and blow him.

At least he had the hope of doing it now, some day. Just not until he was certain Neil would say ‘yes’ because Neil wanted him to do it and not because Neil thought he should say ‘yes’ to placate Andrew.

He exchanged a few texts with Neil during the week; Neil was busy since he’d be flying off to New York on Friday afternoon to make up for the time lost due to his ‘accident’, his schedule packed with photo shoots and interviews and at least one evening spent in the company of a Japanese bastard (Bren had promised Andrew that he wouldn’t allow Ichirou to lay a finger on Neil).

Andrew may have put a little extra force behind his throws when stuck in the goal on Friday for practice as he thought about Neil getting ready to fly off to New York, of all the ways that Ichirou could break his promise while Andrew was how many hundreds of miles away.

“Minyard! Get your homicidal dwarf ass off my court,” Wymack barked at him when White yelped after being hit in the shoulder by one of his return volleys. “This is Exy, not dodge ball, dammit!”

“Oops,” Andrew said in an impassive manner as he strolled out of the goal.

“What is your problem today?” Wymack asked with a hint of exasperation as he attempted to stare Andrew down, his tattooed arms folded over his chest. “You usually try to murder your teammates at the start of the week, not the end.”

Matheson sniggered as he twirled his racquet around in his hands. “What, your little fag boyfriend not putting out for you this weekend? Too busy doing the rest of the Ravens instead?”

On his way off court, Andrew turned toward the asshole striker about to have a large goalie racquet shoved down his throat when Aaron and Nicky latched on to his shoulders and arms to hold him back. “No, the dumb fuck’s not worth it!” Nicky yelled while Aaron went on about too many witnesses.

Meanwhile, Wymack stomped over to a smirking Matheson while the rest of the Foxes either winced or glared at the junior striker. “You’ve just benched yourself for the first game,” he growled out at Matheson while jabbing the asshole in the chest. “And signed yourself up for three marathons!”

“But Coach, I-“

“No! I warned you what would happen if you said that word again,” Wymack all but spat in a now stunned Matheson’s face. “And I never want to hear you speak about any player like that! Now shut up or it’ll be three games and a marathon every weekend this summer, do you understand me?”

“Yes, Coach,” Matheson choked out, his face pale with shock.

“The rest of you maggots got that?” Wymack asked, his attention focused on Hurst as he spoke.

“Yes, Coach,” the Foxes replied, more or less in unison, while Andrew shook off his brother and cousin.

He stalked past a still stunned Matheson, who flinched aside while Wymack swiped at him as if to make sure he didn’t hurt the stupid asshole. Once in the locker room, Andrew dumped his gear in his locker, grabbed his stuff and took as fast a shower as possible, intent on reaching Columbia right away. Aaron and Nicky weren’t far behind him.

It was a quiet ride in the car at first, then Aaron (who'd claimed shotgun) turned on the radio and Nicky began arguing with him over the music. They stopped at Sweeties' for something to eat and cracker dust, then reached Eden's on the early side for once.

Roland did a double-take when he saw Andrew sidle up to the bar, his surprise exaggerated and unappreciated. "My, were you that eager to see me tonight?"

"Drinks," Andrew demanded as he tapped the folded money in his hand against the bar. "Now."

"I'll take that as a 'yes'," Roland said with a smirk, but he had the sense to slide a double-shot of whiskey over to Andrew before he worked on the drinks for the three of them. "Been a few weeks, yeah?"

"Been busy," Andrew answered as he set the empty glass on the bar.

"Hmm." Roland appeared hesitant for a moment. "Nothing bad, I hope?"

Andrew debated answering for a moment before he shrugged. "No, just out of town."

"Ah." Roland smiled at that. "Visiting Kevin?" He laughed at the flat look Andrew gave him for the guess. "Yeah, should have known better. Still, it's nice to see you again."

Andrew didn't know why since things had ended a while ago between them and Roland had moved on to a couple of other regulars, but he did tip well.

The bartender filled him in on some gossip while mixing the drinks, not that Andrew cared much but it was still a little slow at that time of the evening, then he returned to the table where Aaron and Nicky were waiting. The two were quick to tear open the packets of dust and toss back their shots, then left him for the half-empty dance floor while he checked his phone for updates on Neil.

There were a few photos posted of Neil at the airport by excited fans, a couple of him with Moreau, and some texts from Neil that he'd arrived in the city and was staying with his ex-partner. In one of them was an attachment with Neil's schedule for the weekend, which was packed enough to make Andrew toss back a couple of shots in a row and wish that he'd shoved a knife in Ichirou's throat when he'd had the chance even if it would have been the last thing he'd ever done.

He received a few more texts from Neil over the weekend, some pictures from his shoots (he had the impression that another pair of ridiculous shoes were coming his way), the city skyline one night, Central Park in the morning. The messages were short and to the point, which Andrew put down to him being busy.

Neil made no mention of Ichirou.

Andrew expected a call on Sunday evening, when Neil was supposed to return to Edgar Allan, but all he received from Neil was a text that he was back and needed some rest, which was suspicious as hell. There was another text about him being busy on Monday, when he was finally allowed to participate in scrimmages again, and on Tuesday Andrew wondered how stupid one person could be when Patel called him after he got out of practice. "What did he do now?"

"Fuck you," she said, her tone more exhausted than venomous. "He's not calling because he doesn't want you to get upset, monkey-fucker."

That... wasn't what Andrew expected to hear; he twitched in his spot on the ledge and felt a pulse of fear from being up so high pile on to his concern for a certain little bird. "What is it? Was it Ichirou?"

“Not quite – nothing bad!” Patel said in a rush as if she realized how that had come across. “He’s tired because he was run ragged all weekend and now he’s worried about being in shape for the season after being stuck on drills for the last couple of weeks – never mind that no one can catch his ass on court. But both of us are going back to New York this weekend for more marketing stuff and a couple of publicity shots when he was hoping to see you. He’s trying to figure out how to break the news to you.”

Someone was a fucking idiot, Andrew wanted to say, but as he tugged his left knee to his chest he couldn’t help but think about how Neil was pretty much the only person out there who would worry about something like that, about disappointing him. “Tell him not to hurt himself, thinking too hard.”

“You’re such a prick,” Patel said, but she sounded more amused than angry.

“And tell him to get some rest,” Andrew demanded before hanging up.

Neil called him the next night, his tone a bit subdued but he didn’t sound worn down or anxious. “Marley talks too much.”

“And you don’t talk enough.”

That earned Andrew a faint scoff. “You’re quite the pot, aren’t you?”

It took him a moment to figure out what Neil meant by that. “Stick to your usual chirps, little bird. Speaking of which, tell me about last weekend.”

Neil groaned and there was a faint rustling in the background as if he was lying down on something. “It was… it wasn’t too bad, except for running all over the place and the stupid photographers and people touching me and telling me to smile.” No, Andrew imagined that wasn’t ‘fun’ at all and wasn’t looking forward to when he’d have to honor his agreement with Ichirou. “But I got to spend Friday night with Jean and all I did when I was with Ichirou was stand around and translate.”

“Bren?” Andrew called out, certain that the bodyguard was nearby to verify that answer.

“I was next to him the entire time, as was his uncle,” Bren said while Neil cursed out Andrew. “Ichirou touched his face to check out the new scar but that was it, he kept his hands to himself otherwise.”

That was still too much in Andrew’s opinion, but he supposed it wasn’t worth the effort to track the prick down and kill him over it – at least this time. He might change his mind if Ichirou refused to keep his hands to himself in the future. “He’d best respect the deal between us.”

“The deal you shouldn’t have made,” Neil muttered.

“I’m tired of that particular song, learn a different one,” Andrew told a certain fool martyr.

“How about ‘go fuck yourself’?” Neil asked in that saccharine manner of his which only a moron would trust.

“Hmm, someone’s not going to win the Kayleigh Day Spirit award, what a shame.”

“No, I’m aiming for the Kevin Day ‘Fuck You’ award,” Neil shot back.

It shouldn’t be possible for Andrew to be so amused and so annoyed at the same time, but that was Neil Josten, smart-ass extraordinaire.

Patel posted pictures of Neil all weekend long, some of him with Moreau, some of him during the photo shoots or interviews, which the fans ate up. During one of the interviews the two of them were asked if they were a couple, which led to Patel laughing out loud and Neil cursing in three different languages before he went off on the woman about being asked such a stupid question.

The fans were delighted about that, too.

Curtis brought it up after their sparring session on Sunday before Andrew had a chance to leave. “Marley said it took everything she had not to make a comment about Neil’s type being grumpy blonds when they were asked that question,” she remarked as she dabbed at her swollen bottom lip.

Andrew gave her an impassive look back as he picked up his hooded jacket.

“Yeah, great conversation as always,” Curtis sighed. “Anyway, she also told me that the Ravens’ freshmen this year are pretty good. Ours aren’t that bad, but we’re going to need to put in more effort to make up for losing Kevin and Matt. I wish you’d reconsider helping me with Robin.”

“Nope, still don’t give a damn,” he told her. “Try again next year.”

“Very funny.” Curtis appeared ready to go another round and get her ass handed to her again. “Why can’t you spend just an hour with us? Neil’s out on the court almost every night with any Raven willing to put in the extra time so it’s not like you’re missing out on anything with him. From what Nicky and Aaron say, you don’t need to study a lot so why not help the girl you recruited?” When he shrugged on his jacket and made for the door, she groaned in frustration and called out to him. “It would impress Neil, you putting in some damn effort for once!”

He gave her the finger as he walked away.

It wasn’t that he felt the need to impress a certain little bird (not after everything else he’d done in the last three years for him, after all the phone calls and semi-regular flights and a fucking deal to play professional Exy), but Andrew was a bit bored now that Kevin was in Houston. Also, he didn’t want Neil to grow too complacent next year when he did go off to the Barons and was left without any real competition in the Class I division. So he spent the next week mulling over possibilities while watching Cross fail at practice while her fellow freshmen (along with Matheson and Hurst) made snide comments each time she messed up a drill or fumbled a shot.

Someone was still being a rabbit… but Andrew had thought something similar about another Exy player once upon a time and been proven wrong. Despite being back to scrimmages, Neil wasn't as tired that weekend, though he did take a brief nap when they first reached the cabin - and Andrew fell asleep next to him on the bed while reading. Then Andrew made them grilled cheese sandwiches and soup for lunch, which Neil laughed about the jalapeño peppers and potato chips being added to sandwiches, and attempted to teach Neil how to play Mario Cart. When the clever bastard started to get the hang of the game, Andrew paused it to ask 'yes or no'.

They didn't bother playing it again for the rest of the day.

Neil appeared to be growing more comfortable with things, with t _hem_ , with being pressed together and their bodies responding to the contact, to Andrew touching and rocking against him. He would give Andrew that small, true smile – not the false one he flashed for the cameras, but a real one without any shadows or pain in it, and ask ‘yes’ without any prompting or just appear happy to sit next to him and watch a movie together or talk while Andrew made them something to eat.

It was after dinner when Neil apparently decided that he preferred making out with Andrew to watching another movie that Andrew brought up Cross. "Curtis is being annoying," he murmured as he trailed his mouth down Neil's neck.

"Uhm... okay, Curtis." Neil frowned as he appeared to be trying to figure out the sudden conversation topic. "Meg. Right, Meg." His frown deepened as he pulled away a little from Andrew, his palms flat against Andrew's chest. "Uhm, what about Meg? And why?" Now he appeared mildly horrified. "This isn't dirty talk, is it?" He yelped as he was smacked on the ass.

"You just naturally make me think about annoying people," Andrew explained. "Now shut up." His eyes narrowed when Neil took to smirking. "No," he said before he could be dared to 'help' with that 'shutting' up.

"No fun," Neil grumbled, and got another smack for his troubles. "Ow! What about Meg?"

"She's being annoying, like someone else I could name," Andrew stated as Neil squirmed on his lap a little. "Wants me to help her with Cross."

"Oh yeah, her roommate." Neil's brow grew furrowed again as he gave Andrew's chest a slight poke. "The one you recruited. Why don't you?"

"Why should I? And don't say because I recruited her, I just brought her to Wymack's attention," Andrew argued; it was like Curtis had said, Neil was all for him helping out the girl.

"Name any other Fox you took that much of an interest in, hmm?" Neil gazed at him then scoffed when Andrew was quiet. "I looked her up and think she deserves a chance, so why don't you help her? It can't be easy, her playing collegiate Exy after everything that happened." He chewed on his bottom lip as if he was dwelling on Robin Cross' lousy childhood. "Meg's good but she's not a goalie, which is what Robin needs when it comes to coaching."

As always, Neil worried too much about others when he should watch out for himself. "So make a deal with me," Andrew proposed. "Another deal with me."

"I thought you didn't like me making deals," Neil said with a slight smile as he leaned in a little closer, as his arms slid around Andrew's neck.

"I don't like you making deals with anyone other than me," Andrew admitted. Because a certain fool martyr was all too willing to give too much of himself away.

"Hmm, okay." Neil cocked his head to the side. "What do you want?"

Andrew pretended to think about it for a couple of seconds. "After our game this fall, you'll spend the weekend in Columbia with me." When Neil frowned again, he wrapped his arms around his friend's waist. "The ERC always schedules the Ravens at Palmetto," and usually in late October, "so you'll be on our campus. Bring Bren along, we'll tie him up in the backyard or something, but stay the weekend."

Neil chewed on his bottom lip again as he debated the 'request' then sighed. "Let me talk to him to see how we'll work it out, but okay."

"Don't be so enthused," Andrew drawled as he pulled him in closer.

"Well, you're probably going to drag me to that weird goth club of yours, aren't you?" Neil guessed. "What if that whole goth thing is contagious? I don't want to become a la-" He laughed as Andrew finally 'shut' him up, his amusement quickly turning into a much more preferable emotion.

It would never be said (at least by Andrew) that little birds had any decent sense of humor.

It was growing more difficult to leave on Monday mornings, and not just because of the flight back to PSU; Neil actually appeared reluctant to get out of the Maserati when they reached Evermore despite the siren call of his beloved practice. "Hopefully next week," he sighed as he pulled away from Andrew. "I'll let you know as soon as possible."

“Wait.” Before Neil slid out of the car, Andrew reached for the bag he’d brought along that time, now that he felt more certain about things between them, that Neil wasn’t just going along because of… because. “Since you like your sweatshirts so much, you can have this back.”

Neil frowned as he accepted the bag, his expression fading into blankness for a moment as he pulled out the Foxes sweatshirt that Andrew had given him over a year ago and Ichirou had taken away. Then Neil grinned as he shoved it into his own bag. “It’s only fair that I give you one now.”

Andrew shrugged to show that he didn’t care, only concerned that Neil had taken his back, that he’d see his friend in something other than Moreau’s shirts. “Whatever, at least it’s black.”

The sound of Neil’s laughter stayed in his head long after Neil departed, the warmth lingering in his chest as well.

There were a few messages on Andrew's phone when he checked it at the airport; one from Bee asking him if it would be all right to move their ‘weekly’ appointment to Thursday since she had an emergency come up, a drunk dial from Nicky which was a lot of laughter and kissing noises, and several calls from Kevin. Andrew returned the last call while he waited to board, well aware that the Exy addict would still be in bed.

Kevin caught up to him that evening. "Where were you? Why didn't you answer your phone all weekend? I called Nicky and he said you were out of town but wouldn't tell me where."

Andrew debated answering but figured it would come out eventually. "West Virginia."

"Oh." Then those words seemed to sink in. "Oh! What the hell? Why would you go there?" When Andrew didn't say anything, Kevin groaned. "Neil? What did you do, Andrew? Tell me you didn't do anything drastic! Is he still with the Ravens? Are the Foxes in trouble? You know Ichirou won't let him go, is he coming after the Foxes? What about my-"

"He's still with the Ravens," Andrew said as he went to grab a beer to help deal with Kevin's 'panic mode'. "But I made a deal with Ichirou to break him free somewhat, enough so I can see him."

Kevin was quiet for almost a minute. "You made a deal? What did you promise him? Wait, no, do I want to know?" He began to pant on the other end of the phone. “I shouldn’t be talking to you, should I?”

“Criminal activity wasn’t involved, at least not on my part, you dumbass,” Andrew said as he debated going for the whiskey. “I have to play for his stupid team after I graduate and give him part of my salary.”

“Oh,” Kevin repeated, then he took to swearing in French and Japanese for about half a minute. “ _Dammit_ ,” he eventually said in English. “I was calling to tell you about how our starting goalie sucks and how I was gonna work on Coach Thursten about recruiting you! Now I can’t!”

As if Andrew wanted to sign with the Sirens; three years was more than enough dealing with Kevin. “Oh, darn,” he said in a monotone manner – suddenly it wasn’t looking so bad, playing for Ichirou’s Barons.

“This is serious, Andrew! The Barons already have Jean and now they’re going to have _you_ on defense? And Neil in another two years? We need to recruit some serious talent in the next year or two!” He took to muttering beneath his breath for a few seconds. “I wonder if Jeremy can get out of his contract before Neil graduates.”

Wait until Kevin found out about Knox and Moreau; Andrew was willing to bet that if Knox transferred anywhere, it was to a certain East Coast team and not down South. “Good luck,” he said before draining half the bottle of beer.

Kevin ranted about the goalie for a few minutes then waxed poetic about Knox, which was when Andrew decided he had enough and hung up on the pest and ignored his phone for the rest of the evening (he had a special ringtone for Neil).

Nicky, Aaron and Katelyn (did she _not_ have a room of her own?) gave him curious looks when he left later on without saying anything, but probably assumed he was heading out for cigarettes or to see Bee. Instead, he drove to the Foxhole Court and spent a couple of minutes sitting on the hood of his car as he gazed at the garish stadium while he finished a cigarette and texted his little bird.

/Not only are you going to Eden’s but I pick your outfit/

Aware that it would be a while before Neil responded, he let out a heavy breath and forced himself to head into the stadium to uphold his end of the bargain. It was strange, being there without Kevin, getting dressed in silence, and he felt a faint amount of amusement (not enough to justify being there) when he stepped out onto court to the shock of Curtis, Yee and Cross.

“If you’re just standing around, I’m leaving,” he threatened, which made Curtis grin, Cross jump and Yee laugh.

“No, no, we’re working!” Curtis insisted. “Why don’t you watch us for a few minutes and then we can figure out how we want to do this?”

Andrew shrugged to show that he didn’t care then stepped out of the way; Curtis was proving to be a decent captain so far, at least as good as Wilds. She wasn’t as much of a bulldog as Wilds, she knew how to back off (but then Wilds had more to prove) yet she still pushed the Foxes to get better.

Which was what she was doing with Cross; she and Yee fired shots at the goal in an attempt to push Cross to do more than just flail about with her racquet, to stop flinching and _anticipate_ rather than react. Andrew watched for ten minutes before he smacked the end of his racquet into the hard wood floor of the court. “I’m wasting my time,” he called out. “This is hopeless.” He went to lean against the wall so he’d be honoring his promise to Neil when Cross surprised him by calling out his name, the first time she’d spoken to him since arriving on campus.

“Wuh-wait, Andrew. Uhm, Minyard. Andrew? Is it all right to call you that?” She sounded hesitant and a touch fearful as he turned back around, her racquet held sideways and clutched in her hands, her brown eyes wide behind the guard of her helmet. When he nodded once, she continued. “I… I really want to get better. What am I doing wrong?”

“Everything.”

She flinched at the word, spoken without inflection, while Yee glared and Curtis scowled. “Don’t be such an ass-“

“I’m sorry,” Cross said in a rush. “How do I get better? How do I get to be like you?” Then she blushed, her cheeks a bright red as she shook her head. “I mean, not just like _you_ , you’re so good! Oh god….”

Neil better not even try to negotiate the outfit or complain about anything to do with the whole ‘goth club’ outing, Andrew thought as he clicked his tongue. “Pay attention to the opposing players – Coach makes us watch those videos and puts together those stupid packets each week for a reason. You don’t have to work so hard if you have an idea of where the ball’s gonna come from instead of flailing about like you do all the time. Anticipate instead of just guess.”

“I….” Cross’ shoulders slumped for a moment and then she stood up straight. “You’re right. Everyone plays so much better here, I can’t just assume I’ll block the same way I did in high school.”

“That’s why you need to get the drills down, so you have an idea of what people will be doing out on court,” Curtis called out. “A lot of the moves are basic. Kenny and I will help sharpen your skills and Andrew will spot you for now?” She gave him a curious look until he nodded. “Great! Let’s get back to work!”

He spent the next hour and a half calling out Cross’ failures and was mildly surprised that the girl didn’t give up at some point; she had more determination than he would have suspected given her meek nature, but she appeared to be another Exy junkie. At the end of the night she gave him a shy smile which he ignored before he walked away to take off his gear, not needing a shower since he hadn’t broken into a sweat.

“It means a lot to Meg that you’re helping out,” Yee told him as Andrew changed into his clothes and the striker undressed. “And Robin’s excited – you’re her favorite player, you know.”

Andrew ignored him, too.

“How’s Neil doing?”

Andrew slammed his locker shut. “Why do you care?”

Yee held up his hands, his sweat-soaked undershirt held in his right one. “Whoa, just asking because of Meg, okay? I know she worries about him all the time after the shit that went down last summer.” Anger flashed across Yee’s face and he shook his head. “He still doesn’t tell her much and Marley holds back a few things, so she worries about them both. You saw him this weekend though.” Yee gave a pointed look at Andrew’s bruised neck before glancing aside.

“He’s fine.” Andrew avoided adding any sarcasm to the last word. “Looking forward to kicking our asses this season.”

“Ha!” Yee chuckled at that as he threw the undershirt into the laundry basket a few feet away. “I’ll cheer him on when he takes down Jack, but I’m not gonna let him and the Ravens just walk all over the rest of us.”

Like he had much of a chance to stop the Ravens; Andrew didn’t think the Foxes were in terrible shape that year, but Kevin and Boyd were gone, which meant they’d lost two of their strongest players while the Ravens were busting their asses to adjust their freaky teamwork to deal with the loss of their seniors.

Neil’s reply came about an hour after Andrew had returned to the Fox Tower – /Marley said I can stab you if you put me in chaps. She’s coming too/

Andrew called him back rather than bother with texting. “No.”

“Bren’s with her on this one – it’ll look better if we’re both there, some sort of Raven and Fox bonding thing,” Neil explained; he sounded tired but then he’d been up all damn day playing stupid stickball. “Plus, she’s our lookout while we’re burying your body because of the dumb goth outfit you’re going to make me wear,” he added with a touch of humor.

“I told him to get you in the gut a couple of times before he goes for the throat, to make you suffer a little, MF!” Patel shouted in the background before she broke out in laughter.

Oh, there would be a body being buried, it just wouldn’t be _Andrew’s_. “Imagine that, you’re not the only birdy with issues,” Andrew stated without any inflection. “Also? She’s sleeping out in the yard with Bren. Argue and you’ll be out there with them.”

“It’s going to be such a _fun_ weekend,” Neil muttered in a sarcastic tone while Andrew plotted eye liner and skinny jeans and tight black material because why should he be the only one to suffer? “Oh, speaking of which, Stuart told me that they’re going to be on the West Coast this weekend so we’re good.”

“Not something that’s usually said in regards to me, but I’ll go ahead and book another flight.” Andrew was racking up the frequent flyer miles at a steady rate – he’d be worried about his bank account if it wasn’t a sure thing, him going pro in a year. “Get some rest and smother your partner on the way to bed.” He hung up the phone to the sound of Neil’s tired chuckles and glanced up to see Nicky gazing at him in surprise.

“Uhm… that was Neil, right?”

Andrew nodded as he set his phone down and went to grab a bag of cookies.

“And you were talking about… well, it sounded like you were talking about him coming to visit? Him and his friends?”

“Yeah. So?” Andrew gave his cousin an even look and bit into a double chocolate chip cookie as he waited to see where Nicky was going with things.

“Wait, so they _are_ coming to visit?” Nicky appeared a couple of seconds away from hyperventilating. “To Columbia?”

“After the Ravens’ game,” Andrew told him. “Neil, his partner and his bodyguard.”

“Oh my god. Oh my god!” Nicky stumbled out of the kitchen as if he was drunk. “Aaron! Oh my gawd! Andrew’s bo- ah, his not-boyfriend’s coming to the house! We need to get it ready!” Nicky all but shrieked.

Aaron nearly jumped in his spot on the couch and dropped the text book he was reading. “What? Not- wait, Josten’s visiting? When?” He frowned at Andrew as he closed the book.

“Should be October,” Andrew told him. “He’ll come to the house and spare me a flight.”

“We need to fix the one porch step and do something about the yard and maybe paint the living room and what about new curtains and-“

They ignored Nicky’s insane ramblings as they regarded each other. “Getting a bit serious, are we?”

Andrew flipped off his brother. “Katelyn damn near lives here, I don’t want to hear it.”

“You taking him to Eden’s?” Aaron asked, his demeanor rather focused all of a sudden.

“Why?”

“Because if Josten gets to go, then so does Katelyn.” When Andrew flipped him off again, he shook his head. “The more people you have there, the more it’ll seem like a group thing and not the two of you dating,” Aaron argued with a hint of a smile on his lips.

Andrew flipped him off a third time before taking the bag of cookies with him into the bedroom, and Aaron’s smile grew as he turned away.

Andrew was finding the tightest pair of jeans possible for Neil.

It was raining in Charleston on Saturday, the day grey and cool compared to the heat in South Carolina, and Neil came out of the Ravens’ locker room wearing Andrew’s sweatshirt. Neil Josten, recently ‘voted’ one of the ‘hottest’ Class I division captains in some stupid online poll (Matheson and Hurst had ranted about it for the last two days while Nicky had gloated, Hayes and Friedman attempted to give Andrew a high-five while he stared them down, and Aaron merely shook his head while muttering about stupid Exy fans), wore _Andrew’s_ name and number.

He kept telling himself that it was _nothing_ , that it didn’t matter _at all_ … and cursed at himself internally when his heart raced as Neil whispered ‘yes?’ in a ragged voice before leaning in for a kiss as soon as they were in the Maserati.

The sound of a horn beeping made him pull away and glare through the rear view mirror at Bren in the SUV before he started the Maserati and put it into ‘drive’ while Neil muttered something harsh in Japanese. “You gonna stab _him_ in the gut?”

“Eh?” Neil blinked at Andrew a couple of times before shrugging. “Bren? I’d prefer to shoot someone as strong at him, but he won’t give me a gun.”

That led to them discussing various ways of taking out the people in their lives on the way to the cabin, and once they reached their destination, Neil was in the mood for a sparring match rather than a nap.

Andrew made sure that Bren and Janna were nowhere in sight before they pushed the furniture out of the way in the living room then began, mindful not to be _too_ rough. It still led to several bruises and a draw with them entangled in each other and their knives pressed to sensitive areas (Andrew’s to Neil’s throat, Neil’s to Andrew’s crotch) after a few minutes.

Neil was faster than Renee and more willing to give in to the ‘darkness’, less hesitant to rely upon ‘dirty’ tricks or whatever else he needed to win. That wasn’t so surprising to consider when one thought of him being the son of a serial killer and a hereditary criminal, with him knowing little more than lies and death and pain.

Neil had been taught from a young age how to cripple and kill, how to carve up a person (even if he detested those lessons), and some things could never be unlearned. They sunk into one’s marrow and grey cells, one’s nightmares and reflexes, until all it took was a knife in hand and a person charging at them with an intent to harm to bring those hard earned (painfully ingrained) tutorials back to life.

Yet Neil smiled at Andrew (soft and genuine) after their sessions rather than full of bitterness and angst, and seemed to push whatever thought of his father and the past associated with the knives in his hand out of his mind before he went into the one bathroom to wash off.

Andrew refused to dwell on the reason why he was (almost) always armed with knives as well, refused to allow it to taint the couple of days he had with Neil, and after tending to the few bruises and scratches, he put on the large Ravens sweatshirt that Neil had gifted him once he was out of the shower and commenced making them some breakfast.

It was… it was a ‘good’ weekend (he hated saying that, hated qualifying it in a way that would ‘jinx’ it, would set it up to be ruined in the near future). They talked or didn’t talk (could sit next to each other in silence in Andrew read and Neil watched stuff on his laptop or drew in his sketchpad), watched movies or played games together, napped or made out (slowly mapping new boundaries with each other). Neil might mutter things in Japanese from time to time before catching himself, Andrew might become detached before realizing he didn’t need to be that way with Neil… they both had things that they were working on with each other.

They _were_ working on things with each other.

It was clear that Neil was opening himself up to Andrew, was trusting him and doing his best to not just react, to assert himself and make his needs known. Andrew was doing some of that as well, was doing more than being in control and satisfying his own needs through that fact, was meeting Neil ‘half way’ as best he could.

It was a frightening thing for both of them, frightening and exhilarating and unknown territory. Andrew supposed that it being so new for both of them made it bearable, at least for him. Neil got to deal with his body responding to someone he wanted for the first time, to being with someone he chose for once, while Andrew suffered through being with someone who made his heart race and detested emotions well up inside of him.

The weekends were always too damn short.

“About a month until the semester starts,” Neil said as they lay together on the couch, Neil’s back to Andrew’s chest as they more or less watched some stupid movie Nicky had recommended. “Then we’ll have to fit in seeing each other with away games and everything.”

“We’ll manage.” Andrew wasn’t going to let a stupid sport like Exy ruin things for him, though he supposed Ichirou would be a bit demanding. “Curtis is determined to drag the Foxes into the top four so we’ll be forced to play in the championship season,” he drawled.

“Oh you poor bastard,” Neil said in a less than sympathetic tone. “I feel sorry for whatever pro team takes you on.”

Right, Andrew still had to tell him about the Barons. However, he chose to remain quiet just then and hug the arm around Neil’s waist a bit tighter, and allow his little bird to become distracted by a stupid plot point in the movie.

Soon enough Neil could yell at him about his deal with Ichirou, just not then. Not during a ‘good’ weekend. Andrew had too few of them to give that one up.

*******

“Honey, we’re home!” Bren called out as they entered the New York apartment; Neil smiled at his exuberance, especially when Jean snorted in derision.

“I still can’t believe that Janna settled for an oaf like you,” he said as he held his arms out to welcome Neil with a hug.

“Yeah, neither can I,” Bren admitted with a grin. He stuck around long enough to see how Jean was doing and to ensure that the two of them were staying in for the night, then went to hang out with Quentin.

“ _How was practice_?” Neil asked as Jean handed him a cup of tea and they settled on the couch in the living room; in a little while they’d order something for dinner, probably sushi, but just then he wanted to catch up with his best friend. Jean looked good, looked comfortable in his home ( _their_ home, technically, since Neil would move in once he graduated) at last and even had a slight tan from running in the Park in the mornings (and not spending most of his time underground).

“ _Thorough_ ,” Jean decided to say after a sip of his coffee. “ _Coach Michaels wasn’t pleased that we only won by two points last night so he went over what he felt were our weak points_.”

“ _Which wasn’t you_.” Neil and Marley had watched the parts of the game when Jean was on court and their ex-partner had been near flawless as usual.

Jean tilted his head in acknowledgement of the praise; Neil could tell he was pleased by it and knew how much that recognition mattered to his friend. “ _The team needs to work together better_.”

“ _You’re doing everything you can, Webb and Fowler need to stop being envious assholes and accept that you’re better than them_ ,” Neil argued. It wasn’t Jean’s fault that he was more talented than the older men – he didn’t even want to be on their team but he had no choice in the matter. _They_ could go play wherever they wanted, so they could go fuck off for all Neil cared.

A slight smile crept over Jean’s lips and he reached out to tug on a strand of Neil’s bangs. “ _Ever the devil, you are. Coach is working with them so we’ll see. In the end they want to keep winning. Now, what’s going on with you_?”

Neil told him the latest news from Edgar Allan, about how the students had been moving onto campus in anticipation of classes starting the next week and one of them (Neil guessed a transfer or new grad student) had worked up the nerve to ask Marley on a date.

She’d managed to not laugh at the question and let him down gently, citing a crazy schedule and her vice-captain duties. “ _I’m actually surprised she didn’t make some weird comment or something_ ,” Neil admitted.

“ _Perhaps Dan is being a good influence on her_ ,” Jean agreed.

Right, _Dan_.

The team looked good, Neil could finally admit; he’d put in a lot of extra practices with anyone willing to join in to help ensure that they’d be ready for the new season and it seemed to have paid off. The freshmen wouldn’t step out on court for a couple more months, but they’d be there for the championship games and in case there was a need to backfill any positions, and the sophomores would do fine.

“ _And Andrew_?” Jean pushed after a while. “ _How is the rude gargoyle doing_?”

Neil hated how his cheeks grew warm at that question. “ _Well?_ ” He sighed at Jean’s narrow look and shook his head as he set the empty mug aside. “ _Complaining about the start of early morning practices next week and that one striker is still a pain in the ass, but he’s good_.” He rubbed at his neck marked with the faded hickeys from the previous weekend spent at the cabin (covered with makeup) and shrugged. “ ** _We’re_** _good. It doesn’t seem so strange now, us… well, **us**_. _If we have a bad day then we deal with it, but for the most part we’re figuring it all out_.” Figuring out what worked for them and how to deal with their messed-up pasts and issues (‘many’ on Neil’s part, apparently).

Jean gave him a tender look as he once more tugged on a stray lock of Neil’s hair (it had just been cut for the new season and didn’t tuck back as well as it used to). “ _I still believe your taste in men is appalling but I’m happy for you_.”

“ _Your turn_ ,” Neil said as he batted at his friend’s hand. “ _How’s Jeremy, hmm? His team won, too_.”

The smile turned into a grimace. “ _Bah, he talked for twenty minutes about the game and how great it’ll be with our districts playing in the finals this year and he’s already made plans on what we’ll do when our teams play during the season_.” Yet Jean never said ‘no’ to the man, did he? Neil hid a smile behind his hand as his friend ranted about being dragged about by some obnoxious American when he should be resting before or after a game.

Jeremy Knox was still being a good ‘friend’, but he seemed to have an end goal in sight; Jean was relaxed around him and allowed him a familiarity that was exceedingly rare. The man had reached out to Neil twice to ask about Jean’s preferences (‘no’ to surfing, at least at that point in time and ‘yes’ to anything musical related), and was working hard to build up a strong foundation of trust.

Neil didn’t know if he’d taken to heart the whole ‘scandal’ from the year before and Jean’s standoffish nature, if Jeremy realized that if he wanted something serious that he needed to give Jean time to heal and even grow a little… but Neil wasn’t ready to stab the former Trojan just yet. Even Quentin approved of Jeremy.

For once Neil didn’t have any interviews or publicity shots on Saturday, so he and Jean got up and ran through Central Park then stopped at the one coffee shop nearby for something to drink before they returned to the apartment to shower and have breakfast. Jean had practice later before the game while Neil and Bren went to the one innocuous skyscraper where Ichirou’s ‘business’ took up the entire 31st floor.

Ichirou wasn’t in yet, so Neil settled in the one small office and logged on to the laptop to work on the documents flagged for his attention; Eiji came in with a pot of green tea and some of the spicy rice cracker snacks he and Bren liked and spoke with him for a few minutes about the more pressing matters that needed translated, which Neil got about halfway through before his uncle arrived.

“Hey, looking good, kiddo.”

Neil smiled at his uncle’s (mostly) familiar greeting and would have gotten up if not for his uncle’s casual wave for him to remain seated. “You look good, too.” That was mostly true – there were faint circles beneath Stuart’s eyes to indicate that he could use a little sleep, but otherwise his suit was neatly pressed and his motion smooth, his back straight and head held high.

“Been busy as fuck but what else is new? Will’s talking about sending Jamie over to help out with things, it’ll be a good learning experience for her,” Stuart admitted before he nodded to Bren. “He been staying out of trouble for once?”

Bren laughed while Neil glared at the question. “Yeah, pretty much. Been busy with that game of his and… well, you know who.”

Probably not a good idea to bring up Andrew, considering where they were, though Neil didn’t see Ichirou anywhere. “You here alone?” Neil asked while Bren reached over to snag the last of the rice snacks.

“For now, Ichirou’s in a meeting that ran late so he sent me ahead while Davis stayed behind.”

And of course Stuart had been all too willing to leave, to check on Neil and make sure that everything was ‘all right’; it still took some getting used to, how Ichirou would talk to Neil and stare at him but never touch (or at least not touch much, never touch _too_ much).

After years of Ichirou being able to do whatever he wanted to Neil because of their deal, Neil couldn’t believe that it was over ( _that_ part, at least), that Ichirou wouldn’t pull him close or push him down onto his knees or… or any of _it_. The weight of the necklace with the Moriyama medallion was heavy around his neck (which he took off whenever he spent time with Andrew), a sign that he wasn’t entirely free, and judging from Stuart’s and Bren’s vigilance, they had their doubts, too.

But so far, those doubts were unfounded.

So far.

Stuart and Bren talked about some ‘Hatford’ stuff (various people in the organization, some odd jobs, so on and so forth) which Neil tuned out as he continued to translate (and did his best not to think about what he was translating), until Ichirou arrived about an hour later. Neil stood up and gave his lord a slight bow, and stood still as Ichirou inspected the healed cut on his cheek (barely more than a faded thin line).

He saved the document he’d been translating and followed Ichirou into another office, where he spent the next few hours translating on request and ate a late lunch. There were the usual side glances at him from the various enforcers and bodyguards, the weighted stares as if trying to decide if anything was going on between him and Ichirou, if he was upset about the ‘change’ between them, but Neil continued to be respectful to his lord and Ichirou fond yet distant.

They left for the stadium shortly before the Barons were set to play the Chargers, another night where Neil would smile and stand around to translate and block out what he heard. At least he would return back to the apartment with Jean at the end of it, wouldn’t feel so hollowed out and hopeless when he left Ichirou’s side.

Though one of the reporters at the stadium to cover the game caught sight of him and asked him when he would to join Jean on the Barons’ court, when ‘3’ and ‘4’ were going to be reunited again. Neil could only smile and say that he had to graduate first, no?

Radcliffe, off to the side, laughed when the reporter pointed out that his answer hadn’t been a denial and agreed that it hadn’t been one. All Neil could do was continue to smile, his cheeks aching from the fake expression.

Sunday was little better; at least he didn’t have to face any reporters or deal with too many people as he finished the translations before he returned to West Virginia, though there was an… uncomfortable conversation with Ichirou before he left.

“You look well, Nathaniel,” Ichirou told him as he stood next to the desk where Neil worked, Bren a looming presence nearby. “Being the Ravens captain seems to agree with you.”

Right, _that_ was why Neil wasn’t so stressed out anymore; however, he didn’t need Bren’s warning look over Ichirou’s shoulder to bite his tongue and smile back (he hated how much he smiled when around Ichirou and outside of the Nest, yet it felt natural with Andrew and Jean).

“It certainly keeps me busy, all of the training and additional duties, but everyone’s on me to get some rest while I can,” he admitted. “Going away on the weekends seems to help.” He was careful not to mention Andrew.

Still, something dark flashed across Ichirou’s face and he reached out to touch the medallion hanging on top of the soft, long-sleeved knit shirt Neil wore (that Ichirou had bought him). “Breaks are good, as long as you fulfill your duties. I know you will, Nathaniel,” he said before Neil could argue otherwise. “You always honor your obligations.” His fingers tangled in the heavy chain for a couple of seconds, his eyes intent on Neil’s face. “You never forget your place.”

Neil never had a chance to forget it, to forget the debts forced on him by his father. “No, my lord,” he breathed out while he hoped that Bren remained still and didn’t interfere, didn’t do something that would cost him another finger or worse.

The answer appeared to placate Ichirou, who smiled in a satisfied manner and let go as he stepped back. “So faithful,” he remarked. “I’ll see you next Friday, when you lead the Ravens to victory. Have a safe flight home.”

Neil said some sort of ‘goodbye’ to the man, his mind blank as he huddled in the chair until Bren handed over his ever-present flask. Neil gave him a grateful smile but shook his head, just wanting to finish the last document so they could leave.

He called Andrew once he was back at the Nest, and his friend picked up on things right away. “What happened?”

“What are you talking about?” Neil rolled his eyes as Bren helped himself to the whisky. “And is that a proper ‘hello’?”

“You posted pictures of your oatmeal – which, by the way, I don’t know if I’m more disgusted by the fact that your legion of brainless followers liked the damn things or that you willingly eat that stuff. You, the person who never posts pictures. Attempt at distraction much?”

He should hate how well Andrew knew him. “Marley wants me to upload stuff to the account.” It was the truth, more or less, more of her complaining that it was his duty as a captain and some other nonsense.

“Neil.” Just the one word with a hint of exasperation and Neil’s resolve broke.

“It’s… it’s stressful, being around Ichirou,” he admitted as he hugged his knees to his chest. “I’d rather deal with the stupid interviews and photo shoots because I mostly know what to expect, but he keeps staring at me and saying weird things and I don’t know what to do.”

“What ‘weird things’?” Andrew asked in that too-flat manner of his which usually was followed by him offering to stab someone.

“Uhm, him bringing up me being faithful and loyal and still in his debt, basically,” Neil said as he ran his fingers through his hair.

“The insecure little bitch is bringing up that he still has a claim on you,” Andrew said after a slight pause.

“Yeah.” Of course Ichirou had a claim on Neil – he owned him, after all.

There was more silence for about half a minute. “But he didn’t touch you.”

“No.”

“He may have a say on where you play and the money you make, Neil, but that is _all_. If he thinks that he has any other claim to you, there’s going to be a new Moriyama lord.”

Yet Andrew considered Neil an idiot. “What did you tell me about not doing anything stupid? Why doesn’t that apply to you, hmm?”

“It’s not stupid, it’s the fact that I have a signed contract with him,” Andrew stated. “So you start singing very loud and very fast if he steps out of line.”

“I still don’t understand that whole deal,” Neil complained, and wasn’t surprised when Andrew remained quiet yet again. “Whatever. I hope the ERC changes its mind on the schedule and you’re stuck with all away games this season.”

“That would be more of a threat if I wasn’t already flying a couple times a month now for a smart-ass little bird.”

“You shouldn’t talk about Marley that way,” Neil told his friend as he fought not to smile.

Andrew let out a slow breath. “I hate you so much.”

“Hmm, hate me in person this weekend,” Neil told him, pleased that they’d be able to see each other again soon enough.

“Only so I can kick your ass,” Andrew agreed.

“A lazy goth bastard like you can only try,” Neil sneered. “Bring it.”

They spent the next half an hour mocking each other, until Bren had to drag Neil away for dinner.

*******

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *******  
> Uhhmm, that's it? Really, bridge chapter. Though it sets up a couple of things for the year.
> 
> ROBIN!
> 
> Dan's inner 'Wymack' is showing.
> 
> Hmm, was there something else I wanted to say? Probably, but this weekend has been a mess and very distracting.
> 
> IDFK what's on for writing this week. We shall see.
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are appreciated!  
> *******


	26. In Flames

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> F*ck me, this fic is now past 500,000 words. *sobs* It wasn't supposed to be that long. IT'S NEVER SUPPOSED TO BE THAT LONG.  
> (One day I'll break these into pieces, but that's just trickery. The story will STILL BE THAT LONG. That and I'll have to think up more titles, which is a pain/too much work.)
> 
> What happened last chapter? Andreil, basically. Neil and Andrew denying they're boyfriends while spending time at the cabin together, laying groundwork for their (not) relationship, Andrew doing his best to ensure that Neil knows that he can say 'no', that they're not rushing into things (that he's not rushing Neil). Andrew also agrees to step in and help out with Robin Cross in return for Neil visiting Columbia (or trying to) after the Ravens/Foxes game in October.
> 
> This chapter we get back into plotty stuff. More or less. 
> 
> Triggers? Uhm... not aware of anything major, just Neil (or mostly Neil) working through some things, nothing new. Let me know if that's incorrect.  
> *******

*******

Neil walked around the Edgar Allan campus with Marley at his side while aware of the stares directed their way, aware of the lack of Jean on his right as a growing ache. There were whispers about the thin scar on his face and some muted 'go, Ravens,’ to which Marley flashed the students a smile as they walked past.

It was unsettling to return to the Nest without Jean, to not see his old partner waiting for him and Marley at some point on campus, but he had to accept it and move on - he'd thought that he'd done that already, but the start of classes brought back the fact that Jean had graduated. He hadn't realized how much it had mattered to him, to have his friend there at his back when he left the Nest, to act as a buffer between him and the other students, between everyone not a Raven.

To walk with him to his session with Murray and give him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder once it was done. At least Marley had scheduled hers for right before Neil’s and stuck around until his was finished, then teased him about how he’d blocked the psychiatrist that week (by talking about the summer’s photo shoots).

He was grateful that he was only on campus for a short while, then it was back to the thrill and intensity that was practice. Friday was their game with Breckenridge, and he knew everyone was waiting to see how he'd fare as the Ravens' captain. Neil refused to let the team down, to fail, and the team appeared to have his back (or at least they were still as determined to win as always).

He managed a couple of texts with Andrew before then, but they were both too busy with classes and in preparing for the first game of the season to talk - the Foxes had an opening home game with the Wilkes-Meyers Hornets. Jean, on the road with the Barons for a few nights, did leave Neil a voice message before the game on Friday, which Neil listened to in the locker room as he changed into his gear.

Noguchi gave the team a brief speech where he assured them that they were still the best and they would prove it once again that year, would dig down deep to if they had to for the strength and skill they needed to win. Neil only paid half attention to the speech while he struggled to push aside the doubts he felt, but Marley's comforting presence at his side and Dan's quick hug before he stepped out on court helped to calm his nerves.

Breckenridge played just as dirty and rough as always, determined to unseat the reigning champions and win back their title as the district's top team. One would think that they'd have learned by then that it wasn’t going to happen, that they were stuck being losers (at least when it came to Ravens), but Neil bared his teeth in a smug mockery of a smile as he snatched the ball away again and again, as he ducked beneath and around attempts to pin him to the wall or to knock him down, as he refused to let a bunch of bastards who kept muttering obscene things about him and his teammates under their breath get beneath his skin.

The Ravens beat Breckenridge by eleven points that night; Neil continued to smirk while Marley laughed during the ‘good game’ handshakes. He also might have made a comment or two along the lines of how he’d have thought that the other team might have learned to play better than a bunch of Neanderthal-like thugs at some point, but whatever, it made them easy to beat.

“I don’t _have_ to let you do these interviews,” Noguchi complained as he led Neil and Marley away from the reporters while Dan brought up the rear, busy shaking her head even as she fought to hold back a smile. “I can easily have Ethan or Leif do them in your place since they don’t try to offend half the division.”

“That’s fine with me,” Neil said. “I’m getting bored with all these stupid questions, and I’m sure Marley can handle things on her own.”

Coach Noguchi took one look at the eager expression on Marley’s face and groaned before he stomped off while muttering about headache medicine beneath his breath.

“You really should give poor Hiro a break,” Dan told Neil as she reached out to tousle his hair. “He’s a good guy, unlike you miserable brats.”

“’m not doing anything,” Neil mumbled while Marley laughed in delight. “And stop that.”

“Stop what?” Dan gave him an innocent expression which faltered when she caught sight of Masato and Bren standing near the entrance of the men’s locker room. “Oh, yeah. You’re coming back tonight, right?”

“Far as I know,” Neil told her; he hadn’t been informed that he was expected to go to the mansion or anything, and he wasn’t… well, he wasn’t spending the night with Ichirou like _that_ anymore.

“Good.”

Marley gave him a quick pat on the shoulder. “ _I’ll have a cup of tea ready and the Foxes’ game queued up for when you get back_ ,” she offered in French before she went off to shower, to which Neil smiled then he went to wash off so he could get _that_ part of the night over.

Masato waited outside while Bren followed Neil into the locker room where he showered and changed into slacks and a dark grey dress shirt; Dom gave him an odd look but the rest of the Ravens nodded and wished him a good night as he and Bren left.

Once up in the East Tower, Ichirou congratulated him on the team’s win and gazed at Neil with an intensity which made him want to shift about as he stood there in a room full of murderers and thieves, made him want to ignore all of his mother’s ingrained lessons about being quiet and still and to never draw attention to himself. He stood next to the man he’d once given himself to and forced himself to focus, to listen, to paste a faint smile on his face and translate when ‘asked’, to blank his mind as best possible to the meaning behind the words (drugs and where they were being sold, prices and productivity, whether it was best to barter for money or weapons or other goods, rivals to be eliminated…).

Neil felt utterly drained when he walked away from Ichirou at the end of the night, told that he’d be back in New York the following week after his game in Virginia. He wished his lord a ‘good night’ and gave his uncle a quick hug, then tried not to show how eager he was to leave.

“I feel like I could sleep for a week,” Neil said once they were in the elevator and headed to Evermore, his back against the cool metal wall and hands pressed against his eyes. “That was exhausting.” His head ached from all the translating and his muscles throbbed not only from the game earlier but from being so tense while on edge for the last few hours.

“Fuck, you and me both, Red,” Bren groaned. “I hope that bastard gets a new boyfriend or something soon.” When Neil dropped his hands and gave his friend a puzzled look, Bren rolled his eyes. “Ichirou. The bastard doesn’t seem to be doing a good job of moving on from you and everyone’s watching like it’s one of those fast car races, just waiting for the big crash to happen.”

“Whatever.” That didn’t make much sense to Neil, other than things being ‘tense’. “Just as long as I’m not involved in that crash.”

“You and me both,” Bren repeated just as the elevator doors opened up so they could step out onto the main floor of Evermore and leave for the Ravens House.

Marley did indeed have a cup of tea waiting for Neil (he suspected that Bren must tip her off somehow) and a highlights clip of the Foxes’ game from earlier that night for them to watch since it was late. Neil leaned against his friend and sipped the apple cinnamon tea blend as he watched Andrew block the Hornets from his goal.

The Foxes did a good job despite Day and Matt being gone from the team (even with that prick, Matheson, benched for the night), and won their first game of the season. Granted, they largely did so because of Andrew, Meg and Yee, but they still won.

“Kenny’s really come along, hasn’t he?” Marley said as they watched Meg’s boyfriend score a point on the Hornets’ goal.

“He’s nothing special, but he’s solid.” It wasn’t a put-down; not everyone could be Kevin Day or become Court, but Kenny would make it to the pros, Neil was willing to bet. He might not be the most sought-after recruit or on the starting line-up at first, but he’d proven himself dependable and someone who worked well with the other players, someone who could fit in with the team and get the job done. There’d always be a spot in the line-up for a player like Kenny Yee.

“Yeah. Too bad he has to put up with the one asshole, who’s probably going to be twice as bad after sitting out a game.” Marley grimaced as she closed the screen and set her laptop aside. “Wymack should just kick him off the team.”

“Guess that’s not the man’s style.” Neil put the empty mug on his nightstand and yawned. “I mean, he’s dealt with Andrew for how long, hasn’t he? Seems like he’ll put up with anything.”

“Too true!” Marley grinned as she got up to return to her own bed. “I can’t believe half the stories that Dan’s told us about your not-boyfriend.”

Neil gave her a rude gesture on his way to brush his teeth before going to bed, and wished he’d kept the mug so he could throw it at her when she made kissing noises when he returned from the bathroom. If it wasn’t for the fact that he was exhausted and that they had practice in the morning, he’d let her know just how much of an asshole he thought she was, but he was too tired to fight just then.

He was also too tired to have any nightmares that night – at least any real ones. He drifted awake a time or two from images of Riko and Federov out on the court with him and Jean, of his father with a knife in his hand looming over the bed, but Neil would hug the quilt tighter around his shoulders and go back to sleep after assuring himself that he was alone and safe.

It might be a new season but the routine was still the same – get up early on a Saturday, grab a smoothie then change out into his gear and go to court. Sometimes Neil didn’t know what he’d do if he was ever far from a court, if he didn’t start his day with his feet pounding on its hard surface, if his world didn’t constrict down to its Plexiglass-encased boundaries, if he didn’t breathe in the astringent aroma of lacquer and sweat and rubber.

The Nest could grow claustrophobic with its black walls and coldness, with its lack of windows and cement hallways and flickering overhead lights. But Castle Evermore? It was an entire world where Neil felt free and unfettered, where he could fly in ten steps as he pushed past all known limits.

Pain and exhaustion and doubts had no hold on him when the buzzer rang on the court, when he faced off against another masked opponent holding a racquet. He stared down a grinning Marley and felt his lips pull back from his teeth in response, as he let go of everything but the need to win, to be the best, to _excel_.

He was a _Raven_.

All too soon the buzzer sounded and he had to stop, to put an end to the scrimmage which had seen him and Marley battle each other for possession of the ball, to score points for their respective ‘teams’. “Aw come on, Coach! We were having fun,” Marley complained as she smacked the end of her racquet onto the floor.

“Time’s up,” Noguchi called out while the freshmen gawked at them from the sidelines.

“Oh god, I thought they were going to break out in a fight at any moment,” Dom said while Teagan nodded in agreement.

“They were so _fast_ ,” Kinley gasped as she gazed at Neil while he removed his helmet to readjust his sweat-soaked bandana.

“That’s the difference between upperclassmen and you fresh meat,” Trey told the freshmen with a slight huff and a patronizing grin. “Maybe one day you’ll be half that good.”

“As if you’re anywhere in their league,” Allie shot back with a glower.

Neil was about to break up the burgeoning fight when he noticed that Andrew had arrived at some point and smiled up at his friend sitting in the stands, at least until Noguchi called him over to talk about the scrimmage. He went over to his coach and discussed the plays he and Marley had used, the ones he felt had worked well and which ones hadn’t, then stood beside Noguchi and a smirking Dan while the last scrimmage of the day took place.

“All right, take care and get some rest,” Noguchi told the team before he sent them off to the showers. “Next week we take on the Cavaliers.”

“Yes, Coach,” the Ravens responded before they left, with Neil waving to Andrew as he went to wash and change.

“Hmm, off with the SMF, how romantic,” Marley crooned.

“I bet I can get Quentin to shove you in a locker or something for the weekend since it means he’ll get a break,” Neil warned.

“Ha! I think someone’s being a bad influence on you, wait until I tell Crusty!” Marley stuck her tongue out at him before she ran off to the women’s locker room while Neil shook his head then gave Bren a beseeching look.

“No, you can’t borrow my gun.”

“I wasn’t gonna hit anything important, just a little flesh wound,” Neil promised, which made Philip give him an odd look as he walked past. “She’s a friend, after all.”

“Red… go wash off,” Bren ordered as he shoved Neil toward the lockers.

Some people were so grouchy on Saturday mornings.

Neil smiled when he saw Andrew waiting for him by the Maserati. “Congrats on the win last night.”

Andrew merely gave him a blank look in return before he opened the car door, which made Neil’s smile widen; once they were inside the car with its tinted windows, Andrew leaned in for a brief kiss. “You don’t look like utter shit this time.”

“Thanks.” Neil grimaced as he fastened the seat belt then reached for the mug of tea to drink on the drive to the cabin. “Between classes and practice, I’ve been too tired to freak out much, I guess. How are things going with Robin?”

Andrew shrugged then surprised Neil by telling him about the rookie goalie’s ongoing practice sessions and how she managed to get through the first week of classes. She’d moved on to the next drill at last and gained a bit of confidence, and ‘might not be an utter failure’.

“Wow, hold back a little there,” Neil teased. “We don’t want you to start gushing.”

“Are you under the impression that I won’t kill you and leave you for the real bears to eat? They should be bulking up for the winter soon,” Andrew argued as he pulled off the highway.

“Then who’s going to wash the dishes this weekend?”

It was quiet in the car for a minute or two, save for the music that Andrew had playing at a low volume. “I like it better when you’re unconscious,” he said in a thoughtful manner.

“Yeah, I get that a lot,” Neil confessed as he gazed at his friend.

He laughed when Andrew poked a finger in his cheek to force him to look out the passenger window as if disgusted with him.

They both took a nap once they got to the cabin, stretched out on the one bed with a bit of space between them; neither of them had gotten much sleep the night before, though for different reasons. Over the weeks they’d gotten better at sharing a bed while sleeping together, though it helped that Neil barely moved while unconscious and they only tried it for a couple of hours at a time.

Still, it calmed him, that bit of rest when Andrew was there – to have someone nearby whom he trusted, someone who made him feel safe. He knew Andrew was concerned about harming him if startled or woken from a nightmare, but so far they managed somehow.

Just like they ‘managed’ with other things. Saturday night found them stretched out on one of the couches with some stupid movie playing in the background as Andrew kissed Neil breathless. Their shirts had been discarded earlier and they’d taken to rocking their hips together at some point.

Neil drew a shuddering breath as Andrew ground down a little harder than before, as his fingers flexed into his friend’s muscular shoulders, then arched his back when Andrew pulled away to chase after him. “Hmm?”

“Neil.” Andrew frowned a little as if gathering his thoughts. “Yes?” he asked as his right hand hovered over Neil’s crotch – over the ties of his sweatpants, Neil realized.

“Oh.” Neil’s breath caught at the sudden realization and he forced himself to not respond right away ( _yes_ ) because of the intensity of his friend’s gaze, because of the tension in the muscle beneath his fingers. Andrew was just as hard as he was, had been just as ‘into’ things, yet he’d hit ‘pause’ and wanted Neil to say if it was all right or not to continue.

Because _Neil_ got to decide if it was or wasn’t.

“Yes,” he said after a few seconds. “It’s yes for me. Is it for you?” Because he didn’t want it to be just about him. Because they’d talked about ‘things’ (hadn’t _that_ been fun) and he didn’t want it to just be about him.

A faint groan slipped past Andrew’s full lips as he leaned forward. “Yes,” he grunted out before pushing Neil into the cushions with a brief, almost bruising kiss that made him feel light-headed. “Say ‘no’ if it’s too much,” Andrew reminded him when he broke it off, his hands busy with the ties to Neil’s pants.

“I know, dah-ah!” Neil bit into his bottom lip when Andrew’s warm, calloused palm slipped into his pants and wrapped around his erect cock; his hips thrust forward as those fingers slid downward. “Dammit.”

Andrew appeared almost smug as he began to jerk Neil off, his motions steady and firm, and right before Neil was set to complain, reached into his own tented sweatpants with his other hand. Neil wrapped an arm around his shoulders to pull him in for a sloppy kiss as Andrew brought the two of them off, aroused by his friend’s actions just as much by the intense pleasure jolting through his body with each firm stroke along his cock and nip to his lips and neck and-

And he shuddered as he came, a rough, gripping twist right beneath the head to his cock and a sucking bite to the crook of his neck _too_ much. He cried out Andrew’s name then struggled to unwrap his arms when he felt his friend tense against him, to pant a little before he became a dead weight on top of Neil.

They remained sprawled on the couch for almost a minute before Andrew let out a slow breath and pulled his hand from Neil’s now messy pants, then wiped that hand on Neil’s left thigh. “Showers.”

“And laundry,” Neil said with a wrinkled nose as he took in the rather _damp_ state of his sweatpants and boxer briefs; there was a small washer and dryer in the cabin which could take care of their current outfits. He shed the filthy garments as he stood up, unwilling to wear them any longer and went to put them by the units before he headed to whichever bathroom Andrew didn’t use to shower, and caught Andrew giving him an odd look. “What?”

Andrew didn’t say anything, he just snatched up his discarded t-shirt and stalked off to the nearest bathroom as if offended by something.

As if offended by Neil.

Neil was out on the porch, a mug of tea in his hands and his gaze fixed on the stars above when Andrew finally came out to join him, a cigarette in one hand and a bottle of whisky in the other.

“Are you upset?”

“That was going to be my question,” Andrew said in a subdued manner as he sat down next to Neil.

“Why would _I_ be upset?” Neil asked as he twisted about enough to look at his friend. Dammit, he hated how just _looking_ at Andrew confused him so much, made him feel so _much_ and so _many_ things that it was such an anxious, eager jumble inside of him that should terrify him but only made him want to be with Andrew even more.

It made _no sense_.

“Because… because maybe I rushed you into things? You don’t act normal about… almost anything. You… I don’t know,” Andrew confessed in a bitter tone before he had a couple of swallows of whisky.

“I… what?” Neil frowned at the bastard before he shook his head. “You’re not making any sense, do you know that? What the hell is ‘normal’? How am I supposed to act? And you didn’t rush anything!” He snatched away the bottle and took a sip despite making Andrew glare over the action. “I meant that ‘yes’!”

“You’re fucked up, Josten,” Andrew said as he grabbed back the bottle.

“What else is new? You are, too.”

“But I don’t do 180’s all the time.” At Neil’s confused look, Andrew rolled his eyes. “All right, no more exhibitionist streaks if you’re not breaking down again.”

“Huh?” Neil recalled Andrew’s displeased look from earlier and sighed. “Right, you and your hissy fit.” He gave his friend a rude gesture when Andrew’s eyes narrowed over the remark. “What? Not all of us have private stalls in their showers and locker rooms, I’m used to being naked around other guys. That and you’ve seen me without any clothes on so I didn’t think it was a big deal.” He knew he could trust Andrew so really, what did it matter? His clothes had been a mess and it had been quicker to get rid of them then shower.

“Again, you’re fucked up,” Andrew repeated, but he seemed more thoughtful than anything at the moment.

“Thank you,” Neil told him with a heavy dose of sarcasm and sighed when he got ash flicked on his feet.

Andrew seemed to pay close attention to him the rest of the weekend as if to make sure that he was ‘fine’, and there was one or two (pathetic) jokes about ‘idiots keeping their clothes on’ (it beat the stupid ‘little birds’ ones… but not by much). Neil supposed it was some sort of karma for all the ‘lazy goth’ cracks he’d made over the years, and part of him felt a familiar warmth inside like he did when Jean made his ‘British devil’ complaints – it was a little annoying but it also meant that someone cared about him.

“Keep your damn clothes on and stay out of trouble,” Andrew chided Neil upon their return to Edgar Allan on Sunday night.

“I’ll do my best,” Neil promised. “Just for you. Try not to lose to the Lions.” He laughed as he was all but shoved out of his own car while Andrew declared to hate every inch of him.

He struggled to retain that good mood once back on campus, when so busy dealing with classes and practice and Murray and everything else. Being team captain was as stressful as he’d expected, meant that he helped Noguchi with the line-up as well as the training, but Dan was there to give him advice on her years with the Foxes as well as Jean. Neil even spoke to Meg a few minutes here and there when he had any free time so they could commiserate together, and she’d give him an update on how Andrew was helping with Robin Cross (very ‘hands off’ at the moment, but he’d step in to correct her stance or grip from time to time which was already improving things).

Neil missed Jean so much on the drive to Virginia that Friday, the comforting presence beside him which allowed him to rest before (and after) games, even though Marley was a watchful guard in front of him to block anyone from approaching. He settled for completing some class assignments and exchanging texts with Jean and Andrew while glaring at Marley and the others whenever they took pictures of him.

The Cavaliers weren’t much of a challenge, which Neil struggled not to say in the post-game interview per Noguchi’s instructions to ‘tone down the criticism a bit’. Instead, he settled for ‘it’s the start of the season, I’m sure they’ll eventually fix those holes in defense and figure out a working offensive line sooner or later’.

Judging from the look of pain on his coach’s face and Dan’s attempt to stifle a laugh while Marley nodded in agreement, Neil figured he had to work on that ‘criticism’ thing.

“Maybe you should just stick with French during the interviews, kid,” Noguchi muttered as Neil headed to the locker room to finally shower and change before his flight to New York. “At least we’ll be gone by the time they realize you’ve insulted them.”

“It’s _Neil_ , just him opening his mouth should clue them in on the fact that he’s insulting them,” Dan argued.

“Not helping,” Noguchi gritted out while glaring at his unapologetic assistant.

Jean was at some team event when Neil and Bren arrived at the apartment, so Neil enjoyed a long soak in the tub after sending a text to Andrew. It was strange, being in the apartment alone… _being alone_ after so long in the Nest with either Jean or Marley (or both) always there, with Bren nearby whenever his partners weren’t, Bren or Ichirou.

Neil slid beneath the hot water for a couple of seconds but didn’t remain there for long; he slicked back his hair after he resurfaced and thought about his weekends with Andrew instead, about the quiet days in the cabin. Those times were much better, but again, someone was always there with him. The only time he’d ever really been alone was after his mother had died, bar very short periods when she’d leave him to run errands or had to do something and he couldn’t go with her for some reason.

One year of solitude, where he’d fucked things up so much and broken his mother’s rules. Yet he couldn’t find it in him to regret it anymore, not when Jean had a home at last where he was safe and happy, where he had a Surfer boy trying so hard to give him some sort of future.

When Neil looked at Marley and Meg and saw them smile and laugh, saw them race across a court without fear.

He didn’t know what the future had in store for him other than as the Baron’s striker #4, as Ichirou’s translator, but… but it was a little less burdensome than it had been. He still wore the medallion around his neck and had too many ties to the Moriyama family to ever be free, but there were some things that were best left non-negotiable after all.

Such a shame he always learned those type of lessons too late.

Despite the social event the night before, Jean still got up to join Neil on his morning run out in the Park, and they stopped by a local open market so Neil could make Jean some breakfast once they returned to the apartment. They spent some time together catching up on things (Jean thought that Jeremy was working up the nerve to kiss him, if his hovering right near Jean’s personal space was any indication) before Jean had to leave for an away game in Boston.

Bren drove Neil to a private event at some high-end restaurant that evening, not that he ate any of the fancy small plates or appetizers that were set out or carried around by blank-faced servers. Ichirou congratulated him on the Ravens’ win that week and didn’t seem pleased when Neil reminded him that it was the Fall Banquet the following weekend, meaning that he’d be in Georgia since the Bulldogs were hosting the event that year.

“ _Such a useless tradition_ ,” Ichirou complained as he slipped into Japanese. _“I’d a use in mind for you, but it might be best that you’re with your team that weekend_.” He gazed at Neil, at the right side of Neil’s face, for a moment as he sipped his whisky. “ _The news of my uncle’s much delayed death will be made public shortly_.”

Neil forced himself not to react to those words as he wished that he had a drink in his hands at the moment, well aware of the attention focused his and Ichirou’s way; Edgar Allan, the ERC and several other organizations let alone numerous families still clamored for Tetsuji to be extradited to the States to face charges over the previously abusive training program at the Nest, let alone answer for Riko’s alleged assaults on the players. Neil detested his former ‘Master’ with every iota of his being and knew that Tetsuji had been living on borrowed time, but it was still a shock to know that the bastard was finally dead, just like his nephew.

He just hoped that Tetsuji’s death hadn’t been a quick, easy one.

“ _No chance of a testimony, hmm_?” was all he said as he gave a slight bow of his head.

“ _No, the shame of his actions wore down on him in light of his possible enforced return to face his crimes, it seems_.” Ichirou gave a slight snort of derision before he finished his drink. “ _Contain that sharp tongue of yours at the Banquet, Nathaniel, and there will be more tickets to those shows you and Jean like in your future_.”

Actually, it was Jean who liked those Broadway shows, but Neil could pick up on a ‘hint’ when he heard one. “ _Yes, my lord,_ ” he said with a slight incline of his head.

When Ichirou and Masato went off to talk to Ueno, Neil was free to fetch something to drink to wet his parched throat. Bren trailed after him to the bar where he asked for green tea with a little juice mixed in; as he stood there, one of Mikhailov’s men sidled up to him while a couple of others stood near Bren.

“Vodka?” he asked Neil, who shook his head. “You need vodka.”

“No,” Neil said as he inched away from the taller man. “I don’t drink.” Not much, anyway, and definitely not when surrounded by so many people he didn’t trust.

“But it’s a party, so we should drink,” the man proclaimed in accented English as he held up four fingers to one of the bartenders behind the bar; judging from the glassiness to his dark brown eyes, he’d already had enough.

“ _No_ ,” Neil repeated, about to abandon his own drink despite his throat growing sore from translating all night.

The man clicked his tongue and leaned toward Neil. “You should have more fun.” He reached out to grab Neil by the chin. “If I could afford to buy a-“

Neil wasn’t quite sure what had happened, just that he’d said ‘no’, he’d said ‘no’ _twice_ , he was uncomfortable and Bren had raised his voice and someone was touching him, was touching him when he didn’t _want_ to be _touched_ and Andrew had told him that he could say ‘ _no_ ’ and….

And he blinked to find his knife out and pressed against the Russian’s throat with the guy half-bent back across the bar with Bren’s hands gentle on his own shoulders and voice in his left ear. “Relax, Red, okay? I think he gets the point now, yeah?”

It had gone quiet around them except for Bren coaxing him to put the knife away, Neil realized. He shivered a little as he let Bren pull him away from the now-sweaty Russian, his skin crawling from being in the man’s presence. “I said ‘no’,” he tried to explain.

“Yeah, _I_ heard ya.” Bren paused to grab the drink which a pale-faced bartended held out toward them as he herded Neil away from a muttering group of Russians. “Some people have no fuckin’ manners, I swear.”

Neil heard ‘the Butcher’s son’ and ‘just like his father’ in Russian and other languages as Bren led him back to Ichirou, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care, not if it meant that people left him alone after that, if they kept their distance from him (if they didn’t _touch_ him).

If they’d learnt to respect his ‘no’ at last.

Ichirou gave him a lingering look throughout the night but didn’t bring up the ‘incident’, and appeared pleased when he cupped Neil’s tattooed cheek at the end of the night and nothing happened other than Neil casting his gaze downward in a respectful manner.

Neil didn't think about the weekend once he was back on campus (other than to let Marley know about Tetsuji) until Bren interrupted his Chinese language lab class on Monday and gave him a look which made him shove his books into his messenger bag and the rest of the class fall silent. "Come on," he said while jerking his head toward the door, and that was all until they were out onto the grounds which were barely crowded in-between class.

"Is it Tetsuji?" Neil asked after a minute or two of silence.

"No, or not only," Bren admitted. "Someone opened their mouth and it's not good, Red. Brace yourself." When Neil gave him a questioning look, Bren shook his head, his expression grim. "Someone leaked to the press about your dad and all that."

Fuck. Bren had to grab his elbow to steady him for a step or two as Neil took that in, as he thought about Nathan Wesninski and his real name being out there, about all those aliases and personas being stripped away after so long... at _Neil Josten_ being stripped away after so long.

_Fuck_.

The media was already gathering around Evermore when they reached the stadium, with about half a dozen guards trying to keep them at bay. One got a little too close to Neil and Bren, only to be shoved to the ground by his friend as he shouted out 'Nathaniel!', which made Neil cringe.

Dan was waiting for them and quick to open the inner gates; she gave Neil a curious look but didn't say anything as she slowly held out her arms and wrapped them around him when he didn't flinch or pull away. "It'll be alright, kiddo. You'll see."

Her acceptance of him when she had to know the truth, had to know that he was the son of a murderer and worse, made the breath catch in the back of his throat as he gave her a tentative hug back.

"Now come on, Hiro wants to talk to you, obviously. There's only so long he can hold off the Board." She grimaced as she let go and took a step away.

Masato was in the room with Noguchi, which was to be expected, and from the sounds of it Jake was running interference with Aldrich and the University Board in the front office. Dan closed the door once she, Neil and Bren were in Noguchi's office then stood in front of it, as if to prevent anyone from barging in. "The vultures are out there," she told her boss.

"I'm not surprised." He looked tired, which made Neil feel a little sorry for the man, for always causing him so many problems when Noguchi was a good coach. "Now, I take it that the news story is true?" he asked Neil. "That you're Nathan Wesninski's son and Tetsuji not only knowingly recruited you under an alias but reinforced it as well?"

Neil hesitated before answering, but if Masato was there, then he didn't see any point in lying - at least not much. "Tetsuji and Riko recognized me since Tetsuji had attempted to recruit me when I was a child." A sardonic smile twisted his lips as he brushed at the '4' tattoo on his cheek. "I was meant to be '3', originally, the third member in Riko's Perfect Court, handed over to Tetsuji by my father when I was ten, but my mother took me and ran away instead. We lived in Europe for several years, but when we returned to the States, my father... well, he caught up to us and she died," Dan started at that, her face a mask of pity and anger in turns, "and I ended up in Millport as 'Neil Josten'. That's where the Moriyamas tracked me down," he explained with only a hint of bitterness over Kevin's and Gordon's roles in that, "and it was decided that I'd keep the name rather than have to explain how 'Nathaniel Wesninski' had suddenly reappeared after so many years."

There was a trace of sympathy on Noguchi's face as well for a moment before he shook his head. "I can't imagine what you went through, but right now we have to figure out how to handle this - there's only so much longer I can stall the Board and the press will demand answers, too."

Neil glanced at Masato, who gave him a slight nod. "It appears that the leak came from Tetsuji,” Ichirou’s assistant explained, “that documents were found when they did a search after his death, but such a thing shouldn't have happened so we feel that someone with either a grudge against you or Ichirou purposely released this information to the press. Say what you will about Tetsuji but always protect the main branch."

Neil nodded to show that he understood. "Then I'll tell everyone that when Tetsuji and Riko came to recruit me that they recognized me since they'd known me when I was a child, which will help explain why they kept me a secret until the season started - they knew I was terrified about my father finding me and wanted to keep me safe. That's why Tetsuji supported my Neil Josten identity and didn't report me like he should, because he was giving me a second chance."

Dan sputtered a little upon hearing that while Masato nodded in approval. "Okay, we'll ignore how many holes there are in that story like Tetsuji giving a damn about someone and the fact that you've been running around with your natural appearance for the last few years and... and, I'll shut up now," she said a snap of exasperation to her voice when everyone took to glaring at her.

"You should know by now that people will believe almost anything," Noguchi scolded while Masato was busy typing away on his phone, probably to let Ichirou know that the situation was being handled. “The important thing is Neil’s delivery of the story, no matter how ridiculous it is.”

It could have been phrased a bit better, but Noguchi was right in the end; Neil had learned that fact at an early age while telling various doctors and adults how he’d broken bones or ended up with numerous bruises and cuts all the time, and they’d been satisfied with his stories.

He was given time to change into a black polo shirt bearing a small Edgar Allan Ravens logo and black slacks before he had to face the media and the university board, had to repeat over and over the same story he’d made up on the spot in Noguchi’s office (with a few embellishment – nothing too fancy so he didn’t trip himself up), and it was in the middle of the fourth reiteration that the FBI arrived to take him into custody.

It was expected, at least by him and apparently by Bren since his friend didn’t put up a fight, though Dan and Marley nearly got arrested by the agents for ‘interfering with an investigation’, among other charges. Noguchi made the one agent, Browning, swear that Neil wasn’t under arrest but just wanted for questioning and would be released soon (Neil didn’t believe it for a moment but knew Ichirou’s lawyers wouldn’t allow him to remain in custody for long) before telling the two young women to calm down.

“ _I’ll be out soon_ ,” Neil assured Marley before he went with Browning and Towns, who took him to the FBI office in downtown Charleston. He wasn’t handcuffed, but Browning kept a firm grip on his right arm at all times as if convinced he’d run at the first opportunity, a hold that _made_ Neil want to run, to lash out and break free and dash off in the opposite direction.

He didn’t like law enforcement officers, he didn’t like older men, he didn’t like people who believed that they had authority over him because of some made up rules.

“Nathaniel Wesninski,” Browning sneered once they were in a plain room filled with a table and a few chairs which obviously served for interrogation purposes, just the two agents and Neil and most likely several recording devices. “Twenty-one years old, currently living under the alias ‘Neil Josten’. Father Nathan Wesninski, status deceased. Mother Mary Hatford Wesninski, status unknown.” He stared at Neil in an obvious challenge about that last.

Neil could be a pain in the ass and remain quiet, but he had a game on Friday and classes he didn’t want to fall behind on, not that early in the semester. “She’s dead, my father killed her.”

The two agents appeared surprised by his answer, by him cooperating. “Wha-when?” It appeared that Browning was the ‘lead’, the mouthpiece. “When and where?”

“In Seattle, about a month or so before he went to jail on the intimidation charge.” Neil scoffed out loud as he tapped the fingers of his right hand against the top of the table. “Which really? Great job keeping him there, by the by.”

“We didn’t have-“ Browning caught himself and shook his head as his breath hissed out from between his clenched teeth. “Where’s her body?”

“Buried on a beach in California,” Neil said as he pushed aside the awful memories from that night.

“You buried your own mother in a hole in the ground?” It was the agent’s turn to scoff.

“We were on the run, it wasn’t like I could hold a fancy memorial service and call the family to come, could I?”

Browning glared at him as he rested his fists on the table and leaned in. “You’ve got a smart mouth, boy.”

Neil gasped in mock surprise as he clutched at his chest. “I’ve _never_ heard such a thing in my life.” He might cooperate with these assholes, but he didn’t have to go about it in a friendly way, did he?

Browning gave him a sour look as he leaned in a little closer, to which Neil struggled not to react. “Right. Quit it with the dramatics and answer our damn questions.”

“Then don’t ask _stupid_ questions,” Neil shot back.

For a moment it looked as if Browning would continue to argue with him before he decided it wasn’t worth it and ordered Neil to start from the beginning, to tell him about leaving Baltimore. Neil leaned back in the chair and ‘obliged’, spinning a tale for the agents that was mostly the truth – he left out anything connected to the Moriyamas except what had already been decided about Tetsuji, and anything about the Hatfords.

He was questioned about his mother’s family (she didn’t want to involve them was what Neil settled on) and if his father had worked for anyone (Neil said he didn’t know, which was a partial truth – he _hadn’t_ known until he’d ended up at Evermore), if he’d ever seen his father after running away (not after Seattle – they didn’t ask if he’d _talked_ to the man or any of Nathan’s people, did they?). The questions lasted through the evening until all three of them were exhausted, and he was shown a small room with a cot where he could sleep after a stop at a bathroom.

They hadn’t taken his phone away, so he sent a quick text each to Andrew, Jean, Marley and Bren to let them know he was all right, especially since they’d already sent him several to check up on him. Then he forced himself to get some rest and felt as if he’d barely slept when there was a knock on the door to wake him up.

He was treated to bitter black coffee and fast food breakfast sandwiches which he picked at despite his hunger as Browning and Towns questioned him again for several hours as if hoping to trip him up before calling it a ‘day’. There were still a few of his father’s people out there, after all (a few who’d run when it became clear that Ichirou had sided with the Hatfords), and the FBI probably hoped that they had enough information now to track them down.

Neil strongly doubted that.

“You could be charged with fraud, you know,” Browning threatened before letting Neil go. “Maybe some judge would take pity on you, maybe not.”

“My father was a serial killer, I think I might have a decent case for wanting to avoid his notice,” Neil argued.

Browning glared as he slapped a stack of papers down in front of him. “If you’re going to remain ‘Neil Josten’, make if fucking legal, you hear me? And we’ll be watching you. Don’t want to risk you picking up any of his bad habits, eh?”

Such a shame that he’d handed over the small knife to Bren rather than let the FBI confiscate it, Neil thought to himself as he gave the bastard his father’s smile. “I’d like to think that I’ve learned from his mistakes.”

He was released soon after that.

“I hate the cops,” Neil muttered as he rubbed his aching eyes, slumped in the back seat of the SUV while Bren drove him ‘home’.

“You and me both, Red,” Bren agreed. “So do I have to make a run for the nearest border? You squeal on everyone or what?”

Neil snorted at that bit of nonsense as he gave his friend a rude gesture. “Yep, starting with you. That’s what took so long, me telling them about each and every one of your numerous whisky thefts.”

Bren managed an impressive choked sob as he dabbed at his right eye. “It’s always the last person you suspect who stabs you in the back.”

Dan gave him another hug once he was back on campus, and Noguchi told him to rest before he resumed practice the next day. There were curious looks and lingering stares from the other Ravens as he went to his room, but no whispers or anything, so it appeared as if Coach and Dan had talked to the team about… well, hopefully it wouldn’t be a problem, his past.

Marley nearly throttled him when she saw him, she hugged him that hard, and grumbled when he told her he needed a shower before he could talk. She was waiting for him with a cup of tea and an impatient expression when he came out and pointed for him to sit down on the bed.

The tea helped to wet his throat as he gave a quick summary of his past (she knew the highlights already, it was just certain things that had been kept from her), her expression growing dark from time to time. “I know you and Crusty didn’t want me to know certain things for my own safety, but I never would have guessed that your father was some infamous ax murderer.” She winced as if she realized how bad that had sounded. “Sorry.”

“It’s more or less true,” Neil agreed with a slight shrug since his father _had_ been an ax murderer, among other things.

“ _Still_.” Marley sighed as she gave him a gentle hug that time. “I just thought he’d messed up something or sold drugs or owed money, whatever it is those assholes do to get into Moriyama debt. Not be another crime boss like Stuart.”

“But he _was_ a crime boss, which was why we didn’t want you to know too much,” Neil tried to explain. “It wasn’t that we didn’t trust you, it was….” He fumbled to find the words.

“I’m a girl from a nice upper middle-class family and I wasn’t sold like bartered goods,” Marley said as she rested her head against his, her left arm draped across his shoulders. “I’ve had enough of a crash course on mafia shit since I came here, but you and Jean didn’t want me to get in too deep, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Neil breathed out as he slumped against her. “If Riko hadn’t pulled you into it, you’d never had known about this stuff.” Riko and him, he supposed, when he’d bartered to protect her and Meg.

Marley made a rude noise as she tapped him on the opposite temple. “There’s no way I’d have just let you protect me without digging, so it’s a foregone conclusion, Shorty. I’ve put up with too much shit for being different all these years, for not being white and Christian or picking the right sport or wanting to date anyone.” She was quiet for a moment as she stroked her fingers through his hair. “I was willing to let you keep your secrets, you know, but I’m happy it’s all out now.” Then she gave a quick tug to his hair. “It _is_ all out now, right?”

“ _Ouch_ , you vicious bitch, it is,” he muttered. “Except the part where I kill you and bury you beneath the court.”

Marley laughed at that. “You’d never desecrate the precious court like that.”

“Okay, I’ll have Bren do it.”

“Bren can’t be pried away from his beloved whisky long enough to do it.”

Neil hated it when his friends were right like that. “I’ll… figure something out,” he muttered.

“Right. Don’t worry your pretty little head over it,” Marley crooned while stroking his hair. “Shouldn’t you call someone now?”

“Yeah, Ichirou and Stuart,” Neil admitted, which made his friend frown for some reason.

He pulled away as he retrieved his phone and called Ichirou first, and spoke in Japanese while he updated his lord in what had happened over the past day with the FBI. Ichirou was mostly pleased with the result (Neil had the impression that his father’s remaining people had better hope the FBI found them first), then made some vague rumblings about uncovering the source of the ‘leak’.

Stuart’s call was basically a lot of ranting and foul language before ending with ‘take care, kiddo’. (Neil didn’t understand why a lot of people called him ‘kiddo’.)

“ _Now_ are you going to call the MF?” Marley asked while she bounced on the bed.

Neil nodded as he pulled up Andrew’s number. “I needed to get that out of the way first.” It wasn’t good to let the people with the most power over his life wonder what had happened with the FBI for very long, even though he was certain that Bren had updated Stuart at least and Ichirou probably had a mole or two in the agency.

While Marley rolled her eyes and started texting on her own phone, Andrew answered. “How long are you locked away?”

“Funny thing, that,” Neil said as he smiled, happy as always to hear his friend’s deep voice and laconic tone. “They let me go.”

Andrew snorted in derision. “I always knew the cops were incompetent, but that’s taking it to a whole new level.”

“I know,” Neil agreed before his good mood faded away. “What’s the reaction there?” When Andrew was quiet for a couple of seconds, he sighed. “That bad?”

“Your former little birdy punched Hurst when she started going on about you and your mother, which seems to have quieted things down for the moment,” Andrew him, while Marley pumped her fist in the air; Neil was surprised at Meg punching someone… but he supposed he shouldn’t be anymore, not really. She’d been learning to fight and gained a sort of confidence at PSU, a determination to stand on her own.

“It’s going to be rough,” Neil admitted as he tugged on a strand of hair. “They’re going to try to use it against me, to trash the team and break us down on the court.” To break Neil down. “Just like last year.”

“Then you don’t let them,” Andrew said, “just like you didn’t let them do it to you then. You’re stronger than that.”

Somehow, hearing those words from Andrew settled the unease and tightness in Neil’s chest. “Yeah.” He gave a slight laugh. “I thought your degree was in criminology, not psychology.”

“It’s from dealing with so many fucked-up little birds all the time,” Andrew said with an over-aggrieved air. “Go to hell.” Then he hung up.

Neil was back to smiling when Ethan and Bailey arrived with a tray of food (he hadn’t eaten dinner or much else that day) and a mug of tea. Ethan gave him an appraising look and clicked his tongue while Bailey gave him a shy smile. “Don’t look much like Al Capone to me,” the goalie said with a grin.

“Ethan!” Bailey appeared shocked while Marley laughed.

Neil appreciated the joke, the way that his teammate teased him in a friendly (accepting) manner rather than ignore him. “Well, I can honestly say I’ve never done taxes in my life,” he admitted as he accepted the tray containing some sort of bowl of noodles in broth with another of fresh fruit.

“Ha, good one!” Ethan beamed and held out his fist to be bumped once the tray was set down.

“Of _course_ you get that reference,” Marley complained while Bailey appeared happy when Neil thanked her for the tea.

“I watched a lot of old movies growing up,” Neil said with a slight shrug; the few times they stayed somewhere with a television they often didn’t have cable, so he could only watch what was available on the local stations.

“Yeah, well, everyone has questions, I won’t lie, but we got your back,” Ethan said as he and Bailey headed for the door. “You’re our captain and we stand behind you.” He waved before they stepped outside.

Neil blinked at that then looked at Marley, who smiled. “You didn’t think they’d abandon you or something, did you? You may be a short little shit and run us into the ground, but you’re _our_ short little shit.”

That tightness was back in Neil’s chest for a few seconds before he cleared his throat as he picked up the chopsticks on the tray so he could stir around the soba noodles. “Isn’t that redundant, saying ‘short’ and ‘little’?”

“Well, you’re so short that it bears repeating twice?” She laughed when he gave her a rude gesture. “Love you, Shorty.”

“I only put up with a tall freak like you because Jean made me promise,” he declared before he slurped the noodles; he still had to call his ex-partner, but Jean should be busy with a game right then.

Marley protested about how he adored her, he really did, then went off to the night-time practice while Neil finished the homework he’d missed and talked to Jean for a few minutes before bed.

It was bad, the next day when he and Marley went to class, when he had to walk onto campus with all the other students whispering about him as they stopped and pointed in his direction. As he sat in class and heard mention of ‘Butcher of Baltimore’ and ‘Wesninski’.

“People are assholes,” Marley all but snarled as she glared at the other students on their way back to the Nest. “Who gives a fuck about who your father was, eh?”

The FBI, the Moriyamas, the Hatfords… a good many people, actually, but Neil didn’t say anything in that regard. “People are cruel,” was what he settled on in the end as he thought about the scars beneath his clothes, about parents who could treat their own children as chattel, could abuse those who they were supposed to protect.

People were cruel indeed.

Some of the Ravens were hesitant with him during practice that day, were leery of him, but much like the year before their competitive nature came out soon enough. It didn’t matter if they thought he’d been abused, if they thought he was the son of a (dead) serial killer and a mafia boss – if he was going to steal points from them and beat them on the court then they were going to do their best to kick his ass, end of story.

They were Ravens, too.

Any hesitancy or distance between them faded by Friday, when they had a game with Blackwell. The Ravens focused on winning, as always, on pushing everything else aside as they formed a cohesive unit, as they came together in the sake of being a whole, a functioning team who could beat into the court any competition. It helped that Neil had proven himself over the past three years as a striker, as someone who worked well with the other players to score points and ensure that the Ravens would win (unlike Riko) and gained the trust of his teammates, and so they focused on ‘Neil Josten’ rather than ‘Nathaniel Wesninski’.

Of course it wasn’t like that for the Jackrabbits, not when they were out on the court. The opposing team did its best to fuck with Neil’s head, to break his concentration and stoke his temper to the point that he started a fight and earned a red card – him and other Ravens. Mindful of Noguchi’s threat of benching him an additional game if he got a red card or one for a yellow card, Neil forced down the anger he felt for each mention of ‘the Butcher’ or his birth name, for each taunt of him being the son of a criminal (or worse) and used each underhanded trick he could that wouldn’t bring down the referees’ wrath while turning his father’s smile on the bastards doing their best to push him over the edge.

There was some satisfaction to be had when the Ravens won, when he faced the Jackrabbits at the end of the game and smiled that smile as he shook their hands and leaned in to say ‘how does it feel to be beaten by a Wesninski, huh?’ while his teammates laughed around him.

Noguchi couldn’t get out of him doing a post-game interview, not after the past week, but Coach (and Dan) hovered behind him and Marley as the vultures asked him yet more questions about his past and if he intended to revert to his ‘old’ name.

“I gave up being a Wesninski when my mother took me from my abusive father and ran,” Neil said, not for the first time. “I view him as a reprehensible being and want nothing to do with him, and am quite proud of the life I’ve built as ‘Neil Josten’. I’d appreciate it if you’d refer to me as that name from now on.”

“But-“

“ _No_ ,” Neil argued as he cut off the one reporter from Atlanta, “my mother sacrificed a lot to give me a new life away from my father, and everything I’ve done in the past twelve years has worked to building a life of my own. This is who I am now, and it has nothing to do with being a Wesninski.”

“So start asking some damn questions about the game tonight,” Marley added as she leaned forward, her expression mulish as she half-blocked Neil from the reporters’ views.

“But people want to know about-“

“About what? About how Blackwell threw into Neil’s and the rest of our faces that he was the son of the Butcher? How they tried to pull the same shit that they did last year? How they can’t win a damn game unless they try some underhanded stuff to mess with their opponents’ heads rather than… oh, I don’t know, _practice_ and _strategy_ and _bust their asses_ out on court each and every day like us Ravens do?” she asked in an incredulous voice. “They have to go for such a low tactic as that? I had some asshole ask me if I had a kink for knives as he failed to block me, do you know that? If that was why I was partnered with the son of a serial killer? _Really_? Does he know that my mother is a successful surgeon and my father a damn good cook so knives don’t phase me?” She threw her hands up in the air as she turned toward Neil. “ _It almost worked, but only because I wanted to laugh so damn hard, you know? Like… really_? _They can’t think of anything better_?”

She switched back to English as she glared at the suddenly quiet reporters. “We’re tired of this shit, of them and you treating us like this, but we’re not going to let it break us. We’re _better_ than that. Can you say the same?” She sneered at them as she pulled Neil to his feet and led him away from the now shouting reporters – reporters who Dan was telling to fuck off in barely civil words as Noguchi hustled the two of them out of the media room.

“And I thought that Neil was the problem child,” Noguchi muttered as they hurried through the black-painted hallways. “Do both of you delight in antagonizing the press?”

“Yes?” Neil and Marley answered in unison.

“They’re donkey-fuckers,” Marley said at the same time that Neil insisted that they were pricks.

“Why did I think that college students would be easy to manage?” Noguchi muttered as he rubbed at his forehead, right before he shoved them toward the locker rooms.

“Is Patel taking lessons from you?” Andrew asked when they spoke later that night. “She’s your partner, not your clone.”

“I thought she did a good job.”

“Of course you do, you’re the mouthy idiot who lives to antagonize the press.”

Neil rolled his eyes while Marley made a rude gesture over on her bed. “It shut them up, yeah?”

“I suppose.” Andrew didn’t sound impressed. “When are you leaving tomorrow?”

“After morning practice, so we’ll probably be one of the earlier teams there. Did you get the same hotel as us?”

“Yes, Abby booked it.” Neil took that to mean that the team’s nurse had arranged the reservation. “I imagine after this past week, they’ll stick us at the same table again.”

Neil hoped that was the case, because he didn’t look forward to sitting at a table where people stared at him all night and whispered ‘Wesninski’ while he attempted to eat.

Yeah, fun times.

“Wonderful, having to look at you all night,” Andrew drawled.

“How you suffer,” Neil said with a faint smile.

“Oh please,” Marley called out. “Guess you don’t want me to go crash with Meg then, do you?”

Andrew was quiet for a couple of seconds before he clicked his tongue. “Do whatever you want.”

“Right, I’ll just stay in the room with Shorty, no big deal,” Marley taunted. “No reason for you two to be alone this weekend, right?” She smirked while Andrew was quiet again.

“I hate her, too,” he declared.

Marley beamed as if she’d just been given a contract with her precious Peregrines.

It was a hectic Saturday morning, between practice then leaving for Georgia afterwards, but at least Noguchi let them dress in casual clothes for the drive. Neil was exhausted enough to catch a little sleep on the bus, and Marley kept the photos to a minimum for once.

They were early to reach the University of Georgia and so had plenty of time to check into their hotel to change into their outfits (closely matching black and red, a contrast to the Bulldogs’ red and black), where they were the second team to arrive. Neil knew as soon as Gavin Jones, the team’s captain, paused a little too long in saying his name that it was going to be one of _those_ nights, and felt his father’s smile settle on his lips.

At least the Foxes were the fifth team to arrive and, as Andrew had predicted, they were seated at the table with the Ravens; it was almost amusing to think how just a couple of years ago the teams were kept apart, and now they were grouped together.

Meg smiled at Neil as the Foxes approached, Yee at her side as always and Andrew not far behind. “Neil, it’s good to see you.”

“I feel the same.” He held out his hand for her to shake and returned the smile. “You look good. Not too much of your mom’s food this summer?”

She laughed at that as the Foxes sat down in their seats, a few of them sending the Ravens challenging looks. “I swear she tries, considering the endless pans of brownies and all, but I think of chasing you around on court and I manage to only have a few bites.”

“She’s not kidding,” Yee said with a groan. “I swear each time I turn around, her mother has a new pan of something fresh from the oven that looked so good! I thought my mom and gram were bad!”

Neil slanted a glance Andrew’s way while he shook his head. “I can’t imagine anyone who would like eating that much.”

“No one ever said you birds were big on imagination,” Andrew commented in a bored tone as he slumped down in his chair, his attention seemingly focused on the fork in his hand. “Probably because of all those oats you eat.”

Several of the Foxes grinned at what seemed to be an insult to Neil while most of the Raven gazed at him as if curious to see how he’d respond, well aware of his and Andrew’s… whatever. “It probably appears that way, since we focus most of our energy on more important things like physical activity and pushing ourselves to excel,” he said. “Rather than lazing about and losing.”

“Or slitting throats?” Matheson said in a fake whisper to his buddy, Hurst.

That produced a couple of sniggers from the freshmen Foxes while the Ravens went still and Meg scowled at her teammate. Before she could say anything, though, Hemmick groaned out loud. “Really, Jack? That’s the best you can come up with?” he asked in a snide tone. “All the stuff on the news and online the last few days, and you can’t think up anything better than something a twelve-year-old would? Pathetic.”

“Listen, you-“

Neil cut off the enraged striker before he could insult Andrew’s cousin (and probably end up stabbed).  “He’s right, I’ve heard so much worse.” He leaned across the table to give the junior an impassive look while he fingered the butter knife at his place setting. “And do you really think it’s a wise idea to antagonize someone whose family business was making people ‘disappear’? I know of at least four good places along the East Coast to dispose of bodies.”

Matheson recoiled from Neil, his eyes wide and back stiff. “You… you’re as fucked up as Minyard! No wonder you two-“

“Do you want to be benched another game?” Meg warned as she leaned around Yee to glare at the striker. “No?” she asked when Matheson took to shaking his head. “Then watch what the hell you say for once.” She gazed at all of the Foxes. “That goes for everyone.”

It was quiet for a little while after that, until Hemmick managed to strike up a conversation with Ethan while Meg and Marley resumed chatting with each other. That seemed to be a sign for other Foxes and Ravens to talk (Aaron’s girlfriend with Bailey and Miranda), so Neil could chat with Andrew about general things (their classes, the ride to the banquet) while the rest of the teams arrived.

There was a sudden hush when the Bulldogs’ coach took to the stage to welcome everyone for the year’s Fall Banquet, and along with the usual announcement about the season was a brief memorial for Tetsuji Moriyama (despite his ‘faults’) due to him being a founder of Exy.

Neil had forgotten about the man’s death with the revelation about his father and true identity, and would be amused by the fact that the whole mess breaking at the same time had somewhat lessened the impact of Tetsuji’s ‘legacy’.

Except it wasn’t that funny, having to face the world as a Wesninski.

It was a subdued meal after that, with the teams eager to mingle as soon as the plates were cleared. Most of the Foxes left, but Andrew, Meg, Yee and Cross remained with the Ravens.

“Who the hell thought it was a good idea to say anything about Tetsuji?” Meg demanded to know as she shook her head in disgust.

“Probably the ERC,” Neil guessed. “After all, he never was formally convicted.”

“Right, and Riko was a bastion of control and sanity.” That was rather harsh for _Meg_ , of all people, but Neil supposed nearly being raped on the bastard’s command could strip away a layer or two of good will. “I mean… well, you know what I mean,” she added a few seconds later.

“They both were utter bastards,” Marley translated for her. “And we’re much better off with them being dead.”

“Err….” Meg appeared a little conflicted with that assessment while Cross and a few Ravens looked on with interest.

“Agreed,” Andrew said in a decisive manner before he gave a pointed look at Kinley and Allie. “Go fetch some drinks, and if you tamper with them I’ll break your hands.”

“What the hell,” Allie gasped while Kinley first glared at him then glanced at Marley.

“Yeah, he’s an asshole, but your captain could use a drink, meaning water or punch, nothing funny.” She gave them a stern look as she glanced over at the nearest drink station. “You know the rules.” Dan had been rather stringent about them not drinking any alcohol until back at the hotel and watching out for spiked drinks while at the banquet, while Bren and Janna would be watching out for the latter.

“Okay.” Kinley gave Andrew an unimpressed look before she left with Allie while Neil nudged Andrew’s left foot.

“ _It’s bad enough when Marley orders them around, now you_?” he asked in German.

“ _Too many little birdies around here_ ,” Andrew said as he ‘nudged’ Neil’s foot back with more force. “ _It doesn’t hurt to lose a few_.”

Neil rolled his eyes at that, but the truth was, he was loath to leave his small group of friends and put up with what he was certain would be a lot of muttered remarks and insults. As it was, there were comments of ‘Wesninski’ and ‘Butcher’s brat’ and the such as various players walked past, nothing _too_ loud (not with Bren and one or two ERC officials within earshot).

It was enough, though, that the Ravens put in the minimal amount of time at the banquet before leaving for their hotel for the night, and Neil supposed it wasn’t that much of a surprise when the Foxes soon followed, considering all the years when they didn’t even stay more than a few hours.

As captain of the team, Neil made sure that everyone was settled in their rooms and that the players who were of legal age hadn’t gone overboard with the liquor they’d brought along and weren’t planning on letting the younger players get trashed; Noguchi was more realistic about allowing the Ravens to have some ‘fun’, as long as they didn’t allow things to get out of control or cause a scene.

It wasn’t as if a lot of other teams were sending out invites for the Ravens to join them to socialize, not that the Ravens trusted many of them – especially in the Southeast district. Especially after the last year or two. There were the Trojans and… well, there were the Trojans, which was why Leif, Lee and Theresa had brought some bottles of alcohol, mixers and snacks so the team could watch some movies and hang out in a couple of hotel rooms together, with Dan and Jake checking in on them from time to time.

Neil had just returned to his room and changed out of his black dress pants and shirt when there was a knock on the door. Marley shot him a knowing look when she hurried to open it to reveal a blank-faced Andrew, dressed in his usual outfit of black jeans and a long-sleeved black shirt, that time bearing some logo that Neil didn’t recognize (he rarely did) with a black backpack slung over his left shoulder, and a grinning Meg changed into a PSU sweatshirt and what looked to be pajama bottoms bearing running foxes. “Ready to go?” Meg asked as they stepped into the room, making a point to come around and hold her arms out to Neil in a silent invitation for an embrace. He smiled as he hugged her, the gesture quick but firm.

“Yep, I’m not gonna hang out here with these two,” Marley said, her voice shaking with laughter. “Besides, I’m in desperate need for a girl’s night right about now.” She stuck her tongue out at Neil as she grabbed the bag on her bed before she left with Meg.

“And you haven’t killed her by now… how?” Andrew asked once it was just the two of them left in the room.

“Well, first there was Jean saying that I was stuck with her as a life lesson, and now there’s Bren going on about how he’s not going hide the body for me,” Neil explained as he smiled at his friend.

“Slacker,” Andrew chided as he dropped the backpack onto the spare bed, then looked Neil up and down. “No breakdown this time or are you just hiding it better? And if you say ‘I’m fine’ then I’ll find a way to throw you out the window.”

“Eh?” It took Neil a moment to realize what that question meant. “Because of the whole ‘your father’s the Butcher’ thing?” When Andrew nodded, he sighed and sat down cross-legged on the bed, his fingers tucked into the cuffs of the sweatshirt Andrew had given him. “I’ve been dealing with it my entire life, it’s been a nightmare that’s always loomed in the background. In a way I’m used to people calling me out on my father because of the Moriyamas, I just….” He chewed on his bottom lip as he struggled to find the words. “I guess I’d hoped that it might go away with him dead, but it wasn’t impossible, the truth coming out since I deal with people who know about him all the time.”

Andrew seemed to think about that as he sat down on the bed near Neil. “Was it Tetsuji who released the information before he died or one of his people?”

“Honestly? I don’t know,” Neil confessed. “I don’t really care, since it’s the outcome that affects me the most. Stuart and Ichirou will find out, I’m sure. As long as I can still play Exy then I’m… mostly good.”

“Idiot junkie,” Andrew said with the slightest of sneers.

Wow, no ‘little bird’ comment? Neil grinned as he hugged his knees to his chest. “Yep.” Then his smile grew forced. “Despite all the ‘special’ lessons when I was a child, I prefer Exy to… well, I was always better with the lying and the stealing than… than my father’s line of work.”

It was quiet in the room for a minute or two before Andrew let out a quiet snort. “No wonder Moreau always looked to be in so much pain whenever you opened your mouth. You’re a PR disaster waiting to happen, Josten.”

Neil’s smile returned as he leaned against his friend. “I keep trying to tell Noguchi that’s why it’s so much safer for me to insult the other teams.”

“You need to learn to keep that mouth shut,” Andrew argued.

“Then make me.” Neil was delighted when Andrew shifted about on the bed and leaned forward.

“Yes?”

“Yes,” he breathed out, and fell backwards with Andrew chasing him down, mouth fervent on his own and hands light on his shoulders.

He loved the feel of Andrew on top of him, all that solid weight which he could push away with a simple touch or single word ( _if_ he wanted to, which he didn’t when everything felt _so good_ ). He loved how Andrew checked if it was all right to remove his shirt first, how his friend never assumed, which offset any frustration Neil might feel over the repetitive ‘yes or no’s or to stop his hands at Andrew’s waist when he just wanted to _touch_ , to make Andrew feel as good as he did.

Because he _did_ want Andrew to feel good, he was mindful of the boundaries set each time (above clothes or not below this point or whatever made his friend go _too_ still), to not speak in Japanese (Andrew would give him a nip whenever he slipped, which could be damn effective considering where Andrew’s mouth was at the time), to not allow his mind to ‘drift’. It could be difficult, not because of Andrew but rather that Neil felt so overwhelmed sometimes (in a good way) and didn’t know how to react other than what he’d always done in the past. Then he’d catch himself and take a breath, to focus on the person making him _feel_ and somehow things got better.

There were no nightmares with Andrew. There was no need to go ‘numb’. He didn’t believe that everything was ‘well’ or ‘fixed’, but Andrew… Andrew made it better.

Which was why he growled out a ‘yes’ when Andrew’s hips ground down hard against his own, as their erections rubbed together with them sprawled out on the bed; they’d stripped down to their underwear (and Andrew still had on his armbands) and had been making out for what had felt like forever to Neil, his lips kiss-swollen and fingertips tingling from stroking along Andrew’s skin.

A low, barely audible rumble - more felt against Neil’s lips as they pressed against Andrew’s throat - slipped free when Andrew hitched Neil’s left thigh higher against his hip; it shifted Neil about just enough that Andrew could press more firmly against him, could grind down harder, which made Neil gasp out his friend’s name and dig his fingers into broad shoulders as he felt that electrifying tension coil to the breaking point inside of him, as he began to tremble. “Drew… ah!” He arched his neck, his back, as he came, the tremors slowly fading to a strange, dreamlike lassitude he’d never experienced before Andrew.

His friend rocked against him a few more times, his mouth harsh against Neil’s neck, before he drew in a sharp breath and stilled other than a slight jerk or two of his hips. Then he slumped forward, his body lax against Neil’s for several seconds as if he’d lost all strength, until he sighed and rolled over onto his back.

“Hmm,” Neil said as he pushed aside the bangs clinging to his face. “That was nice.” Then he wrinkled his nose as he shifted his hips on the bed. “But messy. Why are things with you so messy?”

Andrew’s sigh that time was much louder and rather pained for some reason. “We need a gag for you.” He rolled onto his side to give Neil an expressionless look. “Do you have complaints?”

“Not really, it’s just an observation.” Neil wrinkled his nose as he sat up again. “Do you want to use the bathroom first?” He knew that Andrew was particular about washing up after ‘things’.

For a moment Andrew didn’t move or say anything, and then he wiped at his face. “Give me a minute,” he said, which wasn’t much of an answer. Then he grabbed his bag and went into the bathroom, while Neil distracted himself from the cooling mess in his boxer-briefs by enjoying the view of Andrew’s muscular back.

He got up from the bed and gathered the discarded sweatshirt and a clean pair of underwear, mindful of how Andrew would react if he stripped off the soiled garments then and there, and was grateful that it didn’t take long for his friend to wash up and change. Then it was his turn in the bathroom, and he returned to the main room to find Andrew sitting on the bed with a bottle of whisky in his hand and that blank look on his face.

That didn’t appear promising.

Neil used one of the bags that the hotel put in the closet for their dry cleaning service to wrap up his underwear then grabbed a bottle of water before he sat down on the bed near Andrew. “You look like you want to talk, despite the comment about my mouth.”

Andrew had some more alcohol before he spoke. “Just because we’re alone together doesn’t mean that-“

“No,” Neil said before Andrew could go any further. “Okay, I appreciate how you’re always checking things with me, all the ‘yes or no’s, the ‘are you all right’s and everything, but you know what? _Enough_.” He jumped to his feet and began to pace around the room. “Don’t make it out as if I don’t know what just I did, dammit! I said ‘yes’! I wanted it to be ‘yes’! It’s always a ‘ _yes_ ’ with you!” he all but shouted at the asshole who was driving him crazy by treating him like an indecisive child.

Andrew had the gall to sit there and give him a dispassionate look. “It’s never always a ‘yes’, Neil, you should know that.”

“It is with you,” Neil gritted out. “And don’t tell me what I think. I’ve had enough of people telling me what I think and want.”

The asshole had the grace to give a slight incline of his head at that comment. “I’m trying to make sure that I’m _not_ forcing anything on you.”

“I know, which is the only reason you’re not being thrown out of the room right now,” Neil agreed, which made Andrew narrow his eyes the slightest bit. “You think I can’t say ‘no’? That I haven’t figured that out by now? Go ask Bren what happened the last time someone didn’t listen to me when I said that word.” He stared Andrew down until his friend’s expression turned thoughtful and he tapped his fingers against the glass bottle of whisky.

“What did you do?” Andrew asked, sounding curious despite himself.

“Uhm… I shoved a knife against his throat?” Some of Neil’s anger faded as he rubbed at the back of his head, unsure if he really should use that example since he had blacked out a little and all, and it might have something to do with his current ‘predicament’. “But I stood up for myself!” he rallied.

Andrew’s hazel eyes narrowed as if he guessed that there was more to the story than Neil was saying (he’d tell Bren to stick to the highpoints if Andrew asked, but he knew his friend would betray him, dammit), then nodded after a couple of seconds. “So the little bird can learn a new trick or two, impressive.”

“I hate you,” Neil muttered as he ran his hands through his hair.

“The feeling is mutual.”

“How nice,” Neil drawled, his tone thick with sarcasm. “What I’m trying to say here is, if I didn’t want you or to do what we’re doing, you’d have a knife at your throat or worse by now.”

“You could try,” Andrew scoffed, then waved his left hand through the air when it was Neil’s turn to narrow his eyes. “Irrelevant. All right, I can see your point.”

“How nice.” The sarcasm hadn’t lessened any.

Andrew gave him the finger as he went back to drinking his precious whisky. Neil returned the gesture but settled on the bed again, his anger fading away when Andrew tugged him close so they could lean against each other.

“This is… this is new to me, too,” Andrew after a couple of minutes, his deep voice quiet in the room. “Not all of it, but… _you._ ”

Neil smiled at that and tucked his legs beneath him. “I guess we’ll fumble along together?” He rested his head on his friend’s shoulder. “I don’t mind being confused because I trust you.”

“You’re an idiot.” Yet Andrew didn’t sound upset or angry at Neil’s confession nor did he push Neil away, he sat there and had a little more whisky before he clicked his tongue. “Come on, let’s make Bren drive us around while I have a smoke and we find someplace where I can get some ice cream.”

Neil groaned even as he reached for his phone. “Why do I have to tag along? You two carb addicts should just go on ahead and leave me here.”

“Because it’s so amusing to torture you,” Andrew admitted without shame. “Put on some damn pants and get moving.”

“Slave driver,” Neil grumbled as he dialed Bren’s number; perhaps he _should_ talk to Murray one day and at least try to figure out why he was attracted to sadistic, sugar-addicted blonds.

*******

“Another weekend with Neil, right?” Nicky asked as they sat on the side of court during afternoon practice.

Andrew nodded while he watched Robin manage to block Davis’ attempt to score a goal, which made the rookie striker glare at her while Meg, White and Hayes cheered the girl on. Robin gave a weary smile in return and blocked Powell’s shot at the goal, too.

“She’s coming along, isn’t she?” Nicky asked, a proud smile on his face while Wymack congratulated the girl even as Hurst and Matheson made snide comments.

“Enough to block freshmen at least,” Andrew acknowledged.

“It’s a start,” Nicky argued, ever ready to champion the underdog – that and he’d warmed up to the freshman since the Fall Banquet. He’d hung out with Meg, Yee, Patel and Robin so Aaron could have some ‘alone time’ in their shared hotel room with Katelyn, and it seemed that some sort of friendship had been formed there between the Raven striker, the goalie and Nicky.

Andrew couldn’t say that he was too surprised, considering that Nicky craved attention and Patel obviously didn’t give a shit about anyone being gay, and Robin was in dire need of friends. That and Nicky was beyond excited about having company visiting the house in a couple of weeks (which now included Meg, Yee and Robin, for fuck’s sake – though Andrew insisted that not everyone was staying at the house overnight) and was in overdrive when it came to plans for the weekend.

They watched Wymack yell at Hurst and Matheson for their ‘shitty’ attitudes and put Hayes in the goal, which meant that Robin came to sit next to them while the rest of the Foxes continued to practice. She gave Andrew a shy smile and Nicky a friendlier one.

“So, back to earlier,” Nicky continued. “How’s Neil?”

Andrew gave his cousin a warning look, but Nicky appeared merely curious and not after anything in particular. “Busy. Happy about a weekend where he can just relax.” He hadn’t seen Neil in two weeks; after a nice stretch of being able to meet up because of the whole ‘Wesninski’ thing and Neil avoiding New York City (and Ichirou), he’d spent the last two weeks in the city being run ragged with photo shoots, interviews and translation jobs. At least on the media front, things were dying down from the ‘Wesninski’ scandal and it hadn’t affected people’s perception of Neil much in the long run. If anything, it only made him that much more interesting in many fans’ eyes, made him some ‘tragic’ figure for them to fawn over.

That didn’t mean he wasn’t given shit out on the court, that the other teams stopped throwing the past in his face every chance they got. That his friend didn’t call him some nights needing to vent all the anger he felt, to talk through the frustration until he could get some rest without the negative emotions weighing on his mind.

“Yeah,” Robin spoke up, which was a bit of a surprise. “Marley’s been complaining about how tired he’s been and that he needs a break.” She glanced at Andrew and blushed a little as she focused her attention on her racquet. “Uhm, she worries about him a lot.”

Nicky grinned in that stupid manner of his and dared to nudge Andrew in the side before he patted Robin on the top of her head. “Don’t worry, sweetie, those two are like brother and sister, Meg can tell you all about it. They have that freaky Ravens’ partner thing going on to like, the ninth degree.”

“Nth degree,” Andrew corrected the moron.

“Yeah, _that_!” Nicky waved his hands about in the air as he leaned back on the bench. “Them and the French hottie, Jean Moreau!” He sighed as if distracted by some (perverse) thought for a moment then shook his head. “So much hotness, but nothing was happening there, right, Andrew?”

“Don’t drag me into your disgusted fantasies,” Andrew warned his cousin. “Or Neil.”

Nicky rolled his eyes as he gave a nervous laugh. “They’re not… uhm, okay, they may be… this isn’t about me,” Nicky tried to argue. “I’m just saying that nothing’s happening with those three, right?”

“No.” Neil and Patel thought of each other as siblings, as Nicky had stated, and Moreau was ‘involved’ with Knox, more or less.

The backliner had even called Neil in a panic the weekend after the banquet, locked in some bathroom at the Fisherman’s Wharf in San Francisco; Knox had taken him to a restaurant there after the Barons had played the Sea Lions, and when the two had gone for a walk after dinner, had finally kissed him. Moreau had freaked out as a result, fled and called his ex-partner for advice (which Andrew personally had thought to be the most ridiculous thing ever – _Neil_ dispensing relationship advice?). Which had led to Neil asking Moreau what he wanted – for Neil to call his uncle and either have the former Trojan outright killed, maimed, injured, or merely threatened?

Again, _Moreau had called Neil for advice/help_. Any respect Andrew might have had for the Frenchman (not much) had evaporated at that moment.

He had also seriously begun to contemplate dragging Bee along one weekend to start psychoanalyzing one little bird, but there were lost causes and there was Neil Josten.

At least it had shocked Moreau into realizing that he didn’t want Knox killed (or maimed, injured or threatened) for doing something that most people would consider reasonable, even with their atypical relationship. He ended the call after only chiding Neil a _little_ about relying on his thug uncle so much for taking care of ‘unpleasant’ things and went to deal with Knox on his own.

Which left Andrew to try to explain to his not-boyfriend that he couldn’t keep having his uncle ‘handle’ situations like that, that most people didn’t have criminal organizations kill or torment people for them on request.

Only for Neil to say that right, Andrew preferred to do the dirty work himself, except when it came to spiking drinks; it hadn’t been one of their better weekends.

It didn’t help that when Andrew talked to Bee about it, she had fought not to smile and had made a karmic justice joke.

It was probably a very good thing that Renee was busy planting weeds and building shacks and a bunch of other things in Africa because she’d probably say something like ‘the Lord works in mysterious ways’ and get thrown off the roof at last if Andrew talked to her about it, too.

Nicky continued to ramble on with Robin about Ravens and their fucked-up relationships (‘seriously, they look like that and _nothing_? Then again, after living with Kevin for so long…’) while Robin actually appeared fascinated by it all. Andrew was almost ( _almost_ ) grateful to get called onto the court where he stood in the goal and blocked the shots for once just to piss off Matheson and Hurst.

He could tell that Matheson wanted to make some pithy comment, to insult him or Neil, but he didn’t want to get benched again and one cold look from Andrew was enough to put the asshole in his place; Neil might be the son of the ‘Butcher’, but Andrew had a known criminal record and was within reach.

Soon enough practice was over and the team appeared in good enough shape to put up a decent fight against Belmonte if not win; they hadn’t won every game that season, not when they’d lost Kevin and Boyd, but they were doing well and had a shot at the championships again, especially with the Ravens decimating the rest of the district as usual.

Wymack waved Andrew over on his way to the locker room. “You out of town again?” the man asked as Andrew pulled off his helmet. When Andrew nodded, he gave a slight, pleased smile. “Mind taking a couple of things to Dan for me?”

It wasn’t the first time that Wymack had asked him for that favor so Andrew nodded; he figured that way, Coach couldn’t bitch if he needed to miss any practice again in the future. It usually was some material or books on coaching for his little ‘mini-me’, and sometimes Dan sent a gift or two back in appreciation.

“Thanks.” Wymack hesitated for a moment. “You hear from Kevin lately?” He still was a little uneasy talking about his son on a personal basis.

“A week ago, he called to bitch about us losing in overtime to Breckenridge.” Andrew had asked him how things were going with Muldani in return, which meant that it had been a rather short call.

Wymack huffed at that and shook his head. “Some things never change. I was talking to him the other day about the recruiters coming around soon for you, and he acted all weird about that. Something you want to tell me?”

How the hell had Kevin kept the fact that he was this man’s son a secret for so long? “Just that I’ve basically decided on a team,” was all he said, which was true in a way; he wouldn’t let Neil play for the Barons without someone to watch his back – someone other than Moreau.

“Okay then.” Wymack knew him well enough by then to not bother arguing or asking questions. “I’ll give you the stuff after the game on Friday.”

Andrew gave the man a two-fingered salute and went to wash off.

The Foxes won the game on Friday, though just barely. It required more effort than Andrew preferred to put in the goal, but after their loss the previous week, he figured better safe than sorry. That and he wouldn’t have to put with a certain little bird harassing him all weekend about his team losing twice in a row and calling him a ‘lazy goth fox’ and dealing with a protective Bren after shoving Neil into some ditch….

So annoying.

Another annoying thing? Katelyn appeared to have befriended Meg and Robin (did she need _that_ many new friends?), so the two girls often hung out in Andrew’s suite for some reason while Aaron and Yee continued their sparring matches (and not Katelyn’s or Meg’s for some odd reason – Andrew blamed Nicky). Which meant the suite grew crowded on the Friday nights the three of them stayed on campus; Andrew would retreat to the roof whenever possible, but that night it was raining.

“It won’t kill you to socialize a little,” Nicky nagged while handing him a beer.

No, but it might kill Nicky.

Andrew retreated to the bedroom so he could call Neil, who sounded tired after the Ravens’ game with the Dukes that evening. “Really? ‘Lethargic third-rate amateurs in dire need of seeing-eye dogs’? Yet you wonder why the district hates your team?”

Neil cleared his throat while Bren could be heard murmuring in the background – a little bird was out on the roof again. “They’re gonna hate us regardless, why do _I_ have to play nice, eh?”

“Still being bastards, are they?” Andrew got up so he could smoke in the window.

“I’m sure they cropped out the footage of the Dukes fans in the stadiums holding up the ‘Wesninski’ and ‘Butcher Jr’ signs,” Neil sighed, his tone weary. “It’s always the lower ranked teams who are the worst. No other hope of defeating us other than by the cheapest tricks.”

“Yet you still kick their asses, which is all that matters.”

“The sympathy, so overwhelming,” Neil said, his voice rich with sarcasm. “I can hardly take it, dial it back a little.”

“Why hasn’t Bren pushed you off the roof yet and spared us your bitching?” Andrew wondered aloud.

A sleepy Aaron and a way too chipper Katelyn took him to the airport in the morning, both of whom he ignored as he braced himself for yet another damn flight. At least he was bumped up into first class (for an hour and a half flight), and found Janna waiting for him outside the airport as usual.

“Just so you know, Stuart’s been busy doing stuff in the background so Neil’s all clear to spend the weekend in Columbia,” she assured him once he settled in the SUV.

That was a bit of an unusual greeting, Andrew thought as he finished sipping the triple mocha frap he’d bought in the airport after debarking his flight. “How cooperative of him. Any reason?”

Janna was quiet as she pulled out into traffic and left the airport, and didn’t say anything until they were on the freeway. “Because he’s had Davis looking into things, and Davis isn’t sure that the leak about Neil’s real identity came from Tetsuji or the Russians. He’s thinking it came from higher up from that… maybe way higher up.” She gave Andrew a significant look before staring straight ahead.

Now wasn’t that an interesting little story? “Why?” was all he asked, even though he thought he already knew; confirmation was such a wonderful thing.

“Perhaps because someone is doing his best to ensure that Neil has limited options?” Janna surmised. Andrew might have his differences with the Hatford organization (that they didn’t break Neil free outright being the main thing) but he couldn’t say that they hired stupid or disloyal people.

“That someone, a certain _insecure little prick_ , hasn’t given up on Neil?” Andrew offered; he didn’t know what entirely Ichirou had hoped to gain with this maneuver, but he didn’t like that it had hurt Neil. That it continued to hurt Neil.

“All I know for certain is that Stuart’s making sure that Neil will be with you as much as possible,” Janna said in a seemingly mild tone that Andrew didn’t trust for a moment, not when he could spot at least five weapons on the woman and knew she’d use them without pause. “So treat him right.”

Andrew gave her an impassive gaze for that remark. “Do you believe I won’t stab you while you’re driving?”

“Do you think I can’t shoot you before you pull a knife?” she countered without batting an eye. “I’m serious, I heard about you giving him grief over Jean. He was just looking out for his best friend.”

“He offered to ruin a man’s life _, again_.” It was too early in the morning for this shit, but this was Andrew’s life ever since having Neil Josten inflicted upon it.

“Look, I know your own life wasn’t perfect, so I’d have thought you’d understand things better,” Janna argued without explaining that ‘own life’ bit. “That’s how things are in this world. Neil’s being considerate by asking first.”

Some part of Andrew _did_ understand, since he’d sought to remove the threats from Aaron’s and Nicky’s lives in the past. He supposed the disconnect for him was the way that Neil reached out to his uncle and set into motion the Hatford organization to fuck up Gordon’s life for months or arranged a possible hit on Knox, of all things. “It just seems so complicated, your way.” Too complicated, really.

“It is and it isn’t,” Janna said, and they left it at that.

Neil was battling it out with Patel on the court when Andrew reached Evermore, something that occurred a lot lately; the two were the top strikers on the team so Noguchi seemed to like pitting them against each other in scrimmages to sharpen their skills and that of the other players. It spoke a lot for them as players and partners that they could go all out against each other, to hold nothing back while on court and then laugh and congratulate the other for wins and new plays once the buzzer rang, to huddle together with the coaching staff to figure out the best way for the team to move forward.

Andrew supposed that was in part why they were two of the best strikers in the division, why the buzz grew louder each year about them making Court and it was all but settled that Neil would go to the Barons and Patel to the Peregrines as soon as they graduated. Why Matheson (and Hurst and so many others) hated them with a passion – they weren’t Kevin, weren’t born with an innate gift to play this bastard sport but they gave it their all and pushed themselves so damn hard day after day that they mastered it like few others.

They were still going over something with Wilds when Noguchi called an end to practice for the day, which made Patel laugh and shove Neil ahead of her while they headed to the showers while Wilds came over to Andrew. Several of the players called out to their captain and wished him a good weekend, which made Neil wave to them in response as Andrew stood up and waited for Wilds.

“Hey, you,” Wilds called out to him. “Hear you got something for me.”

Andrew reached into his duffel bag to pull out the books from Wymack then threw them at her, which she caught. “Thanks.” She gave him a loaded look before she shook her head. “Neil tell you about the Dukes?”

“That they were assholes?”

“Yeah, that’s about it.” Wilds sighed as she tucked the bundle of books beneath her left arm. “They know the ERC won’t come down on them the same way as last year so they keep on pushing.”

“He’s strong, he’ll get through it.”

Wilds made a fist with her right hand for a moment before she smiled. “Yeah, he is, but he could still use a break. Do what you gotta do this weekend to see that it happens, okay?” She nodded to him before she walked away.

Andrew seriously considered the last couple of minutes as a hallucination and went out to the parking lot to wait for Neil by the Maserati.

His little bird came out wearing Andrew’s PSU sweatshirt with the hood pulled over his damp hair, a smile on his face and a messenger bag hung on his left shoulder. Bren waved to Andrew while walking past to the SUV where Janna waited, as Neil continued on to the passenger side of the Maserati.

As soon as they both were inside the sports sedan, Andrew pushed back the ridiculous orange hood and combed his fingers through those damp curls as he pulled Neil in for a kiss (the idiot had a ‘yes’ smile – he _hated_ that he knew that Neil had a ‘yes’ smile) which somehow soothed the lingering ache which had developed in his chest over the past two weeks.

“Hmm, nice flight?” Neil asked once they broke apart.

“There are no ‘nice flights’,” Andrew complained as he sat back in his seat, put on the seat belt and started the car, the sound of Neil’s laughter blending in with the purr of the engine. Neil drank his tea and stared at Andrew until called out on it, asked about Andrew’s week (the same as usual) then talked about a short paper he was writing in Chinese – or trying to, considering that he was still learning the many characters.

They both took a nap once at the cabin, and it was growing more natural to stretch out on the bed and relax with Neil near him, to trust himself with that important person within reach while his own guard was down. The nightmares might come… but Neil knew enough to not touch him if they did, to get out of the way if he didn’t settle down, and all it took was for Andrew to wake up and see loose auburn curls and long, thick lashes shadowing sharp cheekbones and pale blue eyes to know he was ‘safe’.

Neil would help out with the cooking from time to time, but Andrew derived a slight enjoyment from having Neil sit on the counter while he worked on their meals, silencing that preposterous mouth here and there while things heated up. He could feel Neil’s gaze on him the entire time, a sense of attention he didn’t mind despite his complaints – not when the idiot looked at him as if he was the only thing that mattered in the world, the _most important_ thing in the world.

He didn’t understand it, didn’t know why Neil wanted _him_ when he could have so many other people (other Ravens, numerous fans, etc.), but Andrew wasn’t willing to let this go. As much as he had done his best to deny it and belittle it (and had Bee push it right back in his face, among others)… as long as Neil kept on insisting on that ‘yes’, then he’d put up with the damn flights and stares and Hatfords and everything else.

He’d spend his weekends in some cabin making brownies while Neil teased him about his sweet tooth, various types of mac and cheese (they both liked the beer recipe but not so much the Italian version, and there was no way Neil would allow him to desecrate it with cauliflower or broccoli), more or less watch a bunch of ‘B’ movies (‘distractions’ were wonderful things after self-chosen abstinence), and sparring practice with a worthy partner. A few months ago he would have thought it would be a torture of sorts to spend two days in close quarters with another person like that, but it wasn’t unbearable when he was with Neil. Not someone who understood boundaries and _could_ be quiet when Andrew didn’t feel like talking, who kissed him back with an almost frightening fervor and touched him with a reverence he’d never known or experienced.

 They sat out on the porch together Saturday night while Andrew smoked, both wearing their sweatshirts and huddled together since the nights had gotten cold; Neil had started a fire in the fireplace inside so the scent of woodsmoke filled the air as well as Andrew’s cigarettes. “Columbia in a couple of weeks,” Neil murmured. “You’re not really going to break out the chaps, are you?”

“Not telling.” Andrew’s lips twitched around the filter of the cigarette when Neil sighed and hung his head. “Where’s your sense of adventure? I would think you wouldn’t have a problem with your ass on display, Mr. Exhibitionist.”

“It’s not the same,” Neil argued. “And why do you hang out at some goth sex club, anyway?” Neil turned to give him a puzzled look, his hands tucked into to the sleeves of his sweatshirt and hood tugged over his head; it cast shadows over his face and gave his pale eyes an eerie glow, especially when Andrew inhaled on the cigarette.

“Because not so many places would hire the three of us and then they’d let us in for being staff despite us being underage,” he admitted. “Places like that are good for minding their own business.”

Neil seemed to consider that for a couple of seconds. “True.”

And just like that he accepted Eden’s, just like he accepted everything else about Andrew. There would be more teasing about the upcoming club visit, more ‘goth’ comments, but Neil would take whatever outfit Andrew handed him and put it on and go with him to the club, would _trust_ him that night. Just like he trusted being out in the middle of nowhere with Andrew, trusted Andrew behind the wheel of that expensive car parked a dozen yards away, trusted Andrew’s hands and mouth on him.

Trusted him too much, probably. Andrew wasn’t used to that much faith.

“Why not?” Bee asked when he mentioned that during their Tuesday afternoon session. “You’re more than deserving of it.”

“Spare me,” Andrew said as he gave her a dispassionate look. “Next you’ll be breaking out the gold stickers and ‘we’re all winners’ trophies.”

She gazed back for several seconds before sighing. “Do you think Neil will let me write a paper on him? I’ve a theory or two on repetitive adverse situations and how they allow someone to develop advance techniques when dealing with… well, shall we say ‘difficult’ people? I’ve a feeling he’d make a great case study, all things considered.”

Andrew gave her the finger while she smiled at him, a supposedly ‘difficult’ person.

“His ‘technique’, such as it is, is to run his mouth off until that ‘difficult’ person tries to kill him,” Andrew said. “Good luck with that paper.”

“And what does that say about you?”

“That apparently, I’ve chosen a psychiatrist who believes in verbally attacking her patients.”

Bee laughed as she adjusted her glasses. “I merely hold up a figurative mirror to reflect back your imperfections and best qualities – the fun is figuring out which is which.”

“Add ‘delusional’ to that previous statement.”

“Now who’s being verbally attacked, hmm?” Bee held his gaze for a couple of seconds before her expression turned serious. “In all honesty, Andrew, Neil strikes me as someone who doesn’t give his trust easily. That he does to you? Then you _have_ deserved it, and from my viewpoint as someone who’s known you for a few years, you’ve _more_ than earned it. You’ve worked on a lot of important things the last year or two, now it seems to me you need to be able to accept the gifts that people give you.”

Andrew clicked his tongue as he glanced aside; he should be used to her by now, how while she didn’t take any shit from him, she also didn’t let him beat himself down. “He’s an idiot.”

“I can neither confirm nor deny that statement as I’ve never met him in person, yet I doubt it as I can’t see you being attracted to someone of limited intelligence,” Bee argued.

“He’s an _emotional_ idiot,” Andrew clarified. “And worse than that when it comes to his own survival. There’s a reason why he has a permanent babysitter.”

“Then it’s a good thing he has you, right?” Bee asked with that damn annoying smirk of hers.

“Whose side are you on here?” Andrew demanded to know.

Bee laughed as she got up and, after waiting for him to hand over his mug, went to make them some more hot chocolate. “Who says I have to be on a side? Consider me neutral ground.”

“Whatever, Swiss Miss,” Andrew drawled as he slumped down in his chair. “I’ll remember that tomorrow when Aaron’s here for our shared session.”

“Of course you will.” She waited until she returned with the hot chocolate to say anything else. “Now, what’ll it be, more ‘verbal attacking’ or would you prefer ‘delusions’?” she asked with that damn smirk.

“Surprise me.” Andrew was beginning to see a small amount of attraction in them for some reason.

*******

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *******  
> Andrew's definitely up for not-boyfriend of the year award.
> 
> (And not knocking anyone's favorite alternative mac & cheese, just trying to go with what I think Neil, a veggie hater, wouldn't like. Feel free to discuss/make suggestions.)
> 
> Uhm... June's gonna be a bit crazy? Lots of things happening, so not sure what the posting schedule will be but shall try my best to get something out.
> 
> I think that's it?
> 
> As always, the comments and kudos are greatly appreciated!  
> *******


	27. Luminous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, just... got knocked off balance, writing-wise and then things were crazy with work and on the personal side. 
> 
> Summary? Hmm, a new year has started (year four!) and someone outed that Neil Josten is really Nathaniel Wesninski. Yes, poor Neil. It's not quite as bad as the whole Raven scandal the year before, but Neil's dealing with the other teams trying to knock him off-balance with throwing his father in his face, and Andrew's informed that the 'leak' MAY come from high up in the Moriyama organization. Also, Neil is starting to stand up for himself (put a knife to the throat of people who won't take 'no' for an answer), while Andrew still works through his concerns that Neil isn't being assertive enough (that's not the case).
> 
> Think that's all?
> 
> And of course Andrew's lived up to his end of the new deal with Neil, in helping out with Robin, so Neil has to come to Columbia for Halloween.
> 
> This chapter isn't beta'ed, so hopefully not too many mistakes!
> 
> Hmm, triggers? The boys take a step forward with their relationship, so past things brought up - okay, Andrew's past brought up, definitely? I honestly can't think of any other triggers than that, but if you see something and feel it should be mentioned, bring it up to me.  
> *******

*******

It started with a nightmare about Drake.

For the most part Andrew was used to them, was used to the awful memories dredged up and forced upon him while he slept, used to the reminders of all those horrible times when he _submitted_ , when he _endured,_ all in some pathetic, futile hope of holding on to Cass, of finding a home at last….

(How _stupid_ he’d been.)

Except his mind was ever the traitor, ever the torturer it seemed (it had learned from the best), and twisted things on him, took all those horrid things he wished he could scrub from it, could excise and burn to ash and never think of again and scrambled them into something new.

Something even more nightmarish than the original.

Because it wasn’t _him_ beneath Drake on that twin bed with the bright red duvet (‘a bit of color to brighten the room’) but _Neil_ , a broken little bird with darkness in those blank blue eyes. Drake grinned in delight as he moved on top of Neil, and all Andrew did was sit off to the side and eat the chocolate-chip cookies that Cass handed to him one by one while she talked about Aaron coming to visit, about how excited Drake was about to have another little brother and-

Andrew jerked upright in bed with bile in his throat and his fingers digging into his armbands, covered in sweat yet shivering at the same time. He _just_ managed not to throw up in his own lap and had to work through one of the exercises that Bee had given him for anxiety attacks before he was able to unclench his hands from his forearms and unfurl enough to reach for his phone.

It was around two in the morning, but he needed to make sure that Neil was all right, needed to quiet the voices in his head going on about how he’d failed his friend, how he’d let him down and hadn’t protected him; he could see that Aaron was all right, was asleep across the room but he needed to check up on Neil.

His friend answered on the third ring. “’ello?” Neil’s British accent was thicker when he was tired. “Drew?”

Andrew could breathe again. “You’re all right.”

“Yeah. You?”

“Go back to sleep,” Andrew told him, unable (unwilling) to answer that question.

“No.” Now Neil sounded a bit more awake. “What’s going on?” In the background, Andrew could hear Patel ask much the same thing.

“Nothing,” he said. “Get some sleep.”

Neil was quiet for a moment. “It’s not a good night, is it?” There had been a time or two at the cabin when Andrew had woken up from a nightmare or had a bad day, so Neil wasn’t unfamiliar with the variety of Andrew’s silences, with that particular bite in his voice, not to mention all of their calls over the years. “Do you really want me to go back to sleep?”

No, but Andrew didn’t want to talk, couldn’t find the words to say and didn’t believe it was fair to make Neil sit there on the phone just because his demons had reared their heads yet again that night.

“All right.” There was the sound of fabric rustling and then Neil resumed talking in Chinese, his voice soft but steady. After a minute or two, Andrew lay back down on the bed with the phone cradled against his right ear as Neil babbled on – for all he knew, his little bird was chirping about Exy stats, but it didn’t matter for once. No, what did was the sound of Neil’s voice, so calm and quiet and reassuring, the words incomprehensible in a foreign language so nothing for Andrew’s hyperactive mind to latch onto and twist about or fixate on, nothing for him to respond to or answer in return. He didn’t sleep, not after that nightmare, not when part of him wanted to slip a knife free and add another scar or two, to inflict physical pain to drown out the mental, while Neil droned on and on.

It was a couple of hours later when he finally spoke up. “Enough.” His voice was rough and low, but Neil heard him and paused for a moment.

“You sure?” His little bird sounded hoarse and had to practice soon but was still willing to chirp for him, as ever such a martyr.

“Yes. Get some rest,” Andrew told him before he hung up, then sent a quick text – ‘it’s better now’. Relatively ‘speaking’.

He received a smiley face in return.

He drifted in and out the last hour or so before the alarm went off for morning practice; Aaron and Nicky were quick to stay out of his way after taking a good look at him, at the darker than normal bags beneath his eyes and the mile-long stare.

Wymack didn’t give him any shit for stepping on a treadmill and just leaning against the console while the rest of the Foxes worked out. “But he’s not doing anything,” Davis complained (Andrew suspected that Matheson had goaded the newbie striker to speak up). “How come he gets to-“

“When _you_ can shut down a game basically by yourself then you can do whatever you want _upon occasion_ ,” Wymack told the annoyance with that ‘don’t fuck with me’ voice of his which he didn’t use often enough in Andrew’s opinion. “Now shut up and work on your calves.”

“This team sucks,” Davis complained as he shuffled away with a glower on his pimply face.

“Oh you wish, hon,” Nicky snickered from where Hayes was spotting him on a weight bunch. “We have… better taste than… that, though.”

For a moment it looked as if Davis would go over to start a fight (or accept Nicky’s challenge of one, really), but White got in his way while she went to pick up a new, heavier barbell. “Don’t, little boy,” she told him, even though he had a couple of inches on her. “Go work on those chicken legs of yours like Coach told you.” She stared him down until he mumbled something beneath his breath and scurried away.

Andrew glanced around to see Wymack and Meg watching things but holding back (at least for the moment), so he folded his arms on top of the console and rested his head on them while he more or less shuffled his feet for the next hour or so until it was time for class. Then he changed his clothes and went to the one café not too far away to grab a strong dose of caffeine before his first class of the day.

Neil called during lunch and spoke more Chinese while Andrew was up on the roof and chain-smoked, a wash of soothing background noise which he could focus on without really having to _focus_ , was a connection with someone without being too _much_. It was a way for Neil to be ‘there’ but for Andrew to still have some space.

The bastard was probably talking about Exy, though. That or calling him a goth bastard.

Wymack made Andrew join the rest of the Foxes for laps and drills then let him sit on the sidelines during afternoon practice until it was time for Andrew’s afternoon session with Bee. She had a mug of hot chocolate waiting for him and let him drink it in silence before she coaxed the nightmare out of him.

“It’s to be expected,” she theorized after another quiet minute or two. “You’ve had a lot of highs lately with Neil, and I know you’re looking forward to this weekend. A low had to swing in eventually.”

“Yay,” Andrew managed to say after a couple of seconds, his tone bereft of all emotion.

Bee gave him a sympathetic look. “I’m sure it feels awful right now but think of how well you’re handling it.”

He snorted at that preposterous statement, which made her shake her head. “No, you _are_ handling it, Andrew. You went to class, you attended practice, you came here. David and Abby noticed that it wasn’t a good day for you, but all things considered, you were functional.” She gazed at his left armband before she rose from her chair to fetch his empty mug so she could make more hot chocolate. “You know that’s not always the case.”

“So we’re calling ‘not full-out crazy’ ‘functional’ now? Good to know.”

“See? I know you’re recovering when the sarcasm comes out.” Bee finished adding hot water to the cocoa mix, gave it a stir then came over. “And you know I don’t like the ‘c’ word.”

“Doesn’t change anything,” he told her. “Still broken.”

“No, you’re not, just a bit dinged up and lacking polish,” she insisted, as always. “Now, do you feel up to discussing possible triggers or should we focus on some positives?”

He stared into the mug she’d just handed him for a couple of seconds before he clicked his tongue. “I’m more in the mood to slam my head into a wall for about an hour.”

“Focus on positives it is,” Bee declared as she settled back in her chair.

Andrew truly hated his life.

Still, he felt… he felt a _little_ more comfortable in his skin when the session was over. Felt a _little_ less likely to dig a knife into said skin, to go up onto the roof and stand on the very edge of the ledge as he contemplated what it would be like to inch forward just a _bit_ more. Bee had brought up again the possibility of meds (legitimate ones that time around) to help him even out the highs and lows, but he refused to consider them.

As bad as the lows hit him… it was getting better. Damn Kevin and his stupid stickball, but Andrew had something to focus on in the distance, a north star in the horizon to set gaze upon as the water swelled and dipped in extremes.

He had Neil.

A pretty, fucked up little bird who chirped in incomprehensible languages and did inconceivable things, who was loyal and vicious and broken and too good to be true. Yet he _was_ true, which meant that perhaps Andrew was the delusional one.

Hmm, perhaps he should bring that up to Bee at their next session – the illusion of reality. It would make for an entertaining hour, he was willing to bet.

There was a brief text from Neil around dinner-time, just a couple of question marks, to which Andrew replied that little birds should go eat and practice, and received a stuck out tongue emoji in return; he was in the mood to grab some take-out and hang out on the roof alone for a couple of hours. Nicky or Aaron must have told Meg and Robin to leave him alone since neither of them bugged him about evening practice.

Later that evening he did get a text from Patel, though, and was curious enough to click on it; he arched an eyebrow when he saw the video link. He opened it and almost shut it down when he saw her smirking face, then realized that she was in her Exy gear right about as the view panned – she set the phone on something then went running out on court, where Neil and several Ravens were waiting to start what looked to be their nighttime practice.

Despite his general malaise, Andrew found himself watching as he smoked through about half a pack of cigarettes, found himself watching _Neil_. The angle wasn’t the best since the phone was still, but Patel had set it with a good view of the court so Andrew could see Neil run back and forth, could see his idiot twist about and do that damn slide move of his which always made _Andrew’s_ knees hurt.

He knew that Neil worried about being the Ravens’ captain, that he worked too damn hard, pushed too damn far and didn’t get enough rest. Yet anyone could see that he loved Exy, that he lived for the stupid sport, for being out on the court.

For being one of the best strikers.

As much as Andrew thought it was stupid and useless… his fingers twitched as he watched Neil and the other idiots race around an empty Castle Evermore, his mind cataloged their swings and throws as he thought about how best to block them. He felt something stir inside of him, felt a faint interest for the first time that day.

Soon he’d be out on the court with Neil, would be the one in the goal. He still didn’t care for Exy, but there was something to be said to be on court at the same time as Neil Josten.

Damn Kevin Day.

The Ravens finished their practice eventually; Dan called an end to it and went over to hand Neil a bottle of water and tousle his sweaty hair once he removed his helmet and bandana, while Patel retrieved her phone and stuck her tongue out at Andrew once more before ending the video. He stared at his phone for a couple of seconds before he got up and went to his room so he could sleep, and was grateful when there weren’t any nightmares.

No longer lost in a fugue, he spent the next three days with his head bent low to avoid the awfulness that was PSU going all out with dreaded ‘team spirit’. The _only_ good thing about him and Katelyn having declared some sort of a détente was that the Vixens left him the hell alone and targeted every other student on campus with their barrage of cheers and temporary tattoos and whatever else they were handing out to promote the Foxes in preparation for the game against their ‘main’ rival, the Ravens.

The initial hostility that had been between the teams (well, been directed at the Foxes) because of Kevin transferring to the university had died down after Riko’s death (so tragic… it should have been much more painful) and now the Foxes saw the Ravens as the team preventing them from winning a championship title while the Ravens… well, the Foxes had won some respect at last.

“So which is it?” Robin asked at practice on Thursday night. “Are they really unbeatable, like Kelly says, or are they over-rated assholes, like Jack insists?”

“Err….” Meg seemed to debate what to answer as she lined up the balls to fire at the goalie. “Neither?”

“We’re not gonna win tomorrow,” Kenny said, which earned him an unhappy look from his girlfriend. “Come on, you know we’re not, we’re still adjusting to losing Kevin and Matt though Lena and Jake are coming along. Maybe Neil and Marley slapping them around a bit will help them to that next step.”

“At the least, it’s gonna prove to everyone just where we need to be at for spring,” Meg agreed. “And to better answer your question… no one’s unbeatable, but the Ravens are _damn_ good.”

“Huh.” Robin glanced at Andrew as if curious about his opinion. “They’re the best,” he said, seeing no point to lie or hedge. “And Matheson’s a jealous asshole.”

“Ha, truer words were never spoken,” Kenny agreed as he checked the bucket for any more balls then rolled the last one to his girlfriend. “At least we can try to do something about the first.”

Meg flashed him a quick grin before she scooped up the ball. “Yep, one day the Ravens’ are gonna lose their crown as the best team in Class I, and I want the Foxes to be the team who takes it away. So let’s get moving, people!”

“Yes, Captain!” Kenny and Robin said more or less together before Meg lobbed the ball at the goal, while Andrew wondered if it was too soon to start counting down to graduation day.

He spotted Robin a couple of times on where she still didn’t have a block down right, but the girl was learning, all in all. She had the potential to be better than Renee if she could just focus and grow a bit more aggressive, which wasn’t anything Andrew could teach her. Yet she no longer stuttered when she talked to him and she faced down the other freshmen when they talked about her, so she was starting to exhibit some not-rabbit traits at last.

Neil had been busy with practice and a couple of assignments with class all week, so they’d just texted each other (except for Tuesday); Andrew was looking forward to Friday when the Ravens arrived on campus. He told himself because it meant that he’d be going back to Columbia for once, would be spending another night at Eden’s with the alcohol and the cracker dust. That he looked forward to putting a certain smart-mouthed little bird in his place at last.

He never did a good job of lying to himself.

He tormented Neil throughout the day by sending him the most ridiculous images of Halloween costumes that he could find, which led to Neil declaring that he hated Andrew in a variety of languages. As ways to pass time went, it was both amusing and informative.

Andrew gave Robin an impassive look when she 'snuck' out onto court with him and Meg to meet up with a couple of little birds; he knew that she was still ‘chatting’ with Patel, and had to wonder just how ‘friendly’ they’d become before he was distracted by the sight of Neil approaching, dressed in his uniform.

"Okay, I'll just come out and say it - if you got the strappy little devil costume? I won't let him stab you," Patel declared while a laughing Bren thumbed through a scowling Neil's phone.

Janna, who had to stand on her toes to look over Bren's arm at the phone, winced and shook her head. "No, but _I_ will because that's the only way Bren and I won't be killed by Stuart when he finds out." She gave Andrew an aggrieved look. "Really?"

"Exactly!" Neil tried to snatch his phone back and came close to pouting when Bren held it up even higher. "I hate you all."

"Uhm, costumes?" Robin asked in a quiet voice as she glanced around. "What about costumes?"

"They're probably talking about whatever costume Neil has to wear tonight," Meg explained, her smile fading as she took in the freshman's growing panic. "Oh, didn't you know? It's a costume party at the club."

"No, I didn't!" Robin's dismay seemed to break Neil out of his bad mood. "What am I going to do? I don't have anything like that to wear!" She appeared on the verge of hyperventilating.

"Don't worry, we'll figure it out," Patel assured her while Meg nodded; the three of them went off to where Katelyn and the Vixens were warming up, which left Andrew with Neil and the bodyguards.

"Uhm, you can always give her whatever you have for-"

"No."

Neil's hopeful smile was wiped away and his shoulders slumped forward as he was shot down. "It better not be a devil's costume," he muttered as he glared at Andrew from beneath his bangs, which he hadn't pulled back with a bandana yet.

"It's even better," Andrew assured his friend, and hated how his chest grew tight at the sight of Neil's handsome face growing flushed and those blue eyes bright with anger. "I held up my end of the bargain."

"I know," Neil snapped while Bren continued to chortle over the pictures. "I'm looking forward to kicking your ass soon."

"You can try," Andrew drawled.

"I don't have to," Neil shot back, and was about to say something else when Janna groaned.

"Oh hell, you two are pathetic. I just... I just can't." She threw her hands up in the air while she shook her head and walked a few steps away as if she needed some space.

"I told you they were terrible at the whole 'flirting' thing," Bren called out as he gave Neil back his phone. "You are, you know," he assured Neil.

Neil stared off at nothing while that cruel smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I need to fling some balls at things, preferably other people, _now_ ," was all he said before he spun around on his right heel and stalked off, leaving Andrew to deal with his own team and Wymack and all the boring pre-game shit.

Hayes was in the goal for the first half of the game, and while the goalie had improved over the last couple of years... he still had a way to go before he could successfully block a team as good as the Ravens. Neil and Patel took an early lead in the points and then were pulled from the court to give the other strikers on the team some play time, including the sophomores.

"Wow, you were right," Robin sighed as she watched the Foxes do their best to keep from getting their asses kicked - they were going to lose, but they didn't have to be utterly embarrassed on national television. "How are they so good?"

"They're freaks of nature," Hurst muttered as she glared at court.

"Maybe, and maybe they also are just that good because they practice all day and everything," White said, which made Hurst glare her way. "I mean, I don't see you out on court at night or on weekends."

"Because I have a life."

"Right, drinking with Jack and bitching about everything, that's some life," White mocked.

"Like _you_ do much better."

"Yeah, but _I_ don't tear down other people who try harder than me, do I?" White shot back. "If you're so unhappy with the way things are, do something about it."

Andrew tuned out the bitching while he mentally counted down how much longer it would be before he could leave for Columbia –lives literally depended on him leaving as soon as possible.

Most of the team was exhausted come half-time, run ragged by the Ravens out on the court. "You newbies have to learn to pace yourself better, dammit, what I have been saying all season? The Ravens are the best team out there in the division but we'll play others almost as good once we hit the championships and you need to be prepared,” Wymack berated the team.

Meg nodded along with the lecture. "We need to hold back their better players and push hard when their starters are off the court. Strategy is what'll close the point gap, not brute force."

“Yeah, well, what good does it when _some_ of us are just gonna stand there and let their gangsta boytoy fire potshots on the goal at will, huh?” Matheson asked in that grating tone of his which made Andrew want to snap his neck so he couldn’t speak anymore. “Yeah, I said it,” he taunted as he gazed Andrew’s way.

“Jack, can you be any more of a stupid ass?” Wymack said, his tone more exhausted than incredulous.

“Hey! I didn’t say the ‘f’ word!”

“No, but you’re still a bigoted bastard,” Nicky yelled from where he sat on the bench near Andrew. “Just admit that the Ravens are better than you, especially Neil!”

“They’re better because your psycho cousin’s been feeding them our plays and everything, you lousy pervert! If you weren’t too busy drooling over-“

Enough. Andrew got up and was in Matheson’s face before Wymack or anyone else could stop him, then grabbed the bigoted asshole by the front of his jersey and yanked him onto his feet. “Don’t talk about Nicky or Neil like that again,” he warned, his expression and voice utterly lacking any emotion. Still, Matheson got the point (perhaps because of it) that Andrew was deadly serious.

“Andrew, don’t break my striker,” Wymack ordered as he hovered nearby, Abby right next to him with an anxious look on her face.

“Then put a muzzle on him, you’ve let him spew garbage for too long, Coach. I hear anything about my family or Neil from him again, I’m breaking his jaw to save us all some grief for the rest of the season.” He stared Matheson in the eye while he spoke so the asshole knew he wasn’t joking then released the asshole since it made his stomach curdle to be near such filth.

“Save the mayhem for out on court,” Wymack told him once he let Matheson go. “The Ravens are doing enough of a number on us, I don’t need you adding to it.”

Andrew gave him a quick salute before he went back to lay down on the bench. It was quiet in the locker room after that, save for Wymack and Meg going over a few new plays, and everyone appeared relieved when it was time to return to court.

Noguchi didn’t put Neil and Patel back in the game right away, instead choosing to wear Andrew down with the other strikers. He managed to shut down the goal for a little while, but the Foxes’ defensive line was growing tired and the Ravens’ offensive line hungry, and it wasn’t long after he gave up a point that the two were back in the game.

All nice and rested after their long break, Neil and Patel didn’t show Andrew any mercy; he might have played several games against them by that point, had watched them at practice how many times, but as always they managed to surprise him. He didn’t know if they purposely came up with new tricks before each game or were just that good at thinking on their feet and didn’t care, not when his goal went red again and again as the bastards scored another three points before final buzzer.

Someone might have been a little riled up over the whole costume thing, he was thinking.

Tired from fending off the fast little shits for most of the second half of the game, Andrew leaned against his racquet for a couple of seconds before he forced himself to go join the rest of the players in the center of the court. Nicky gave him a weary grin as he walked past while Aaron groaned as he pulled off his helmet. “I can’t wait to get to Eden’s,” his cousin said.

“Fuck yeah,” Aaron agreed.

“Come to the Home locker room,” Andrew told Neil when they shook hands doing the post-game line-up.

“Yeah, yeah, it’ll have to wait until after the interviews and everything,” Neil said with a slight grimace. “But we’ll be there.” His fingers lingered in Andrew’s for a moment before he continued down the line.

“Ha! Lost again, SMF,” Patel taunted as she held out her hand and laughed when Andrew ignored her as always.

Andrew didn’t bother to hang out in the main area to listen to Coach’s ‘it was a good game despite the loss’ speech; he showered and changed into his ‘costume’ for the night, which consisted of black jeans, ankle boots, his armbands and a black t-shirt with a skeleton pattern on it.

There might have been some cologne and hair gel thrown in as well.

Nicky, dressed up as a bull fighter, groaned when he caught sight of it, while Aaron, who’d decided to go as a gladiator of some sort, shook his head. “You spent how long at the damn store buying stuff for Josten and _that’s_ what you’re wearing?” Aaron asked, only to huff when Andrew gave him an impassive look in return.

Kenny had dressed up as a cop, which sort of made sense when Meg appeared in a black cat suit, along with Katelyn, whose short white Roman-style gown matched Aaron’s outfit as well. A nervous Robin sported a makeshift Vixen’s uniform (with spandex shorts beneath the miniskirt), and blushed when Nicky and Kenny whistled and clapped over her made-up appearance.

“That’s pretty good for an impromptu outfit,” Nicky said with an approving nod. “You look great, sweetie.”

“I do?” Robin seemed both doubtful and grateful to hear that. “I don’t… this is the first Halloween party I’ve gone to… well, my first party.”

Nicky looked ready to cry over that announcement. “Aw, you’ll be fine, we’ll take care of you,” he assured the girl as he enfolded her in a hug. While he traumatized the rookie, Andrew exchanged a couple of texts with Bren to find out when the rest of their group would arrive.

It took another twenty minutes, but Neil and the others finally showed up, everyone but him dressed for the night out; Bren was wearing a bathrobe and carrying a towel, of all things, Janna who wore ripped black jeans and a tank top with an ankh necklace as well as some serious eyeliner, and a grinning Patel a white lab coat over a grey tank top, shorts and ankle boots.

Nicky gave them all a confused look. “Okay, who are you two supposed to be?” he asked the bodyguards.

“Ford Prefect,” Bren answered with a grin which faltered when everyone continued to gaze at him with confusion. “Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy?” He sighed and waved his towel around in the air. “Put the bloody racquets down and read a book.”

Janna patted him on the arm as if to cheer him up. “Death,” was all she said.

Go figure, Neil had nerd bodyguards looking after him, more or less.

“Uhm… don’t you mean ‘perfect’?” Nicky asked Bren before he gave Janna a nervous smile. “And where’s your cloak and scythe?” His smile faltered when the bodyguards gave him disappointed looks in return. “Ah, never mind.” He tried his luck with Patel, next. “Aren’t you supposed to be a sexy scientist?”

The striker – as well as Katelyn, Meg and Robin – glared at him. “No, not at all. Can we get away from the whole need for a ‘sexy’ costume, please? I’m only wearing shorts and stuff beneath this since we’ll be at a club and I want to dance, and I don’t want to get too overheated while I’m doing that. But if you think I’m gonna dress in some miniskirt and bra top to ‘sex up’ this costume then forget about it,” Patel snapped. “ _You_ can wear that stuff.”

“Don’t tempt him,” Aaron muttered.

“Uhm… okay,” Nicky said as he took a couple of hasty steps back with his hands held up in the air.

Once it was quiet, Neil eyed the bag which Andrew held out to him with evident trepidation. "Here's the first part of it," Andrew told him. "Go change."

"I really won't be happy if it's chaps or some strappy devil costume," Neil complained as he accepted the bag as if it would blow up in his face at any moment, then glanced around until Aaron pointed him toward the shower room where he could change.

"First part?" Patel asked, then rolled her eyes when Andrew gave her an impassive look in return while Nicky, his good mood restored, grinned in anticipation. "Whatever, you're the one who has to deal with him if he gets too upset."

Andrew wasn't too worried about that and spent the couple of minutes waiting for Neil to get dressed checking his phone.

"Oh boy, that's... yeah, there's gonna be some happy fans," Patel exclaimed once a glowering Neil stepped out of shower room dressed all in black - tight skinny jeans ripped at the knees, ankle boots, and a long-sleeved shirt with tiny white skulls on it which clung to his upper body. There even was a collar with silver studs on it around his neck and a couple of leather bracelets around his left wrist, and Nicky beamed as he stepped forward with a small bag in hand.

"And now for the second part!"

"Behave yourself," Andrew warned his cousin as Nicky descended upon a suddenly nervous Neil with the hair gel and makeup to finish his transformation into a stereotypical emo-goth for the night, complete with black lipstick and copious amounts of eyeliner. All that was missing was the black nail polish, but Andrew wasn't sure Neil could put up with Nicky that long and he wanted to leave already.

He made sure to take a picture once Nicky was done. "Who's the _goth_ now?"

Neil's jaw twitched for a moment. "We're way past hate right now and into downright loathing, just so you know."

It was going to be a wonderful weekend.

Patel and Bren made sure to get plenty of pictures of Neil out in the parking lot (the rules were no photos at Eden's or the house - it wasn't a secret that Neil and Patel were spending a weekend with Meg, but they didn't want certain 'things' known or for the two Ravens to be tracked down), and then Neil slid into the passenger seat of the GS with Aaron, Katelyn and Nicky in the backseat while Patel and Robin rode with Meg and Kenny in Meg's car. Bren and Janna had a rental SUV for once, since they'd fly back with Neil and Patel to Charleston on Sunday from Columbia and were staying in a rental house with Meg, Kenny, and Robin just down the block for the two nights.

Despite his disgruntlement over the costume, Neil extended his left hand over the middle console and, once the GS was in sixth gear, Andrew entwined their fingers together. He heard a choked sound from the back of the car as Neil shifted in the seat to face him a bit more.

"So, Neil, I don't know much about you," Katelyn declared as she leaned forward a little from her spot in the middle of the back seat. "Other than you play for the Ravens and speak a lot of languages, that is," she said in a rush. "Which can I just say that I love your accent? What's it like knowing so many languages?"

Neil tensed at first when she spoke but then began to relax when she didn't seem to pry into his past or bring up his father. "Ah, thanks." He smiled a little at Andrew before he twisted about some more to look back at Katelyn. "I spent... I grew up with my mom who was British so I took after her, I guess you could say. As for the languages, it probably helped being around so many of them when I was a kid, especially when in Europe. I guess I'm lucky that I can pick them up relatively easily?"

Nicky, ever eager for attention, was quick to jump into the conversation. "Yeah! I think I was able to learn German quickly because I grew up speaking Spanish and English!" That led to Nicky and Neil talking about various languages and being raised bilingual (Nicky Spanish and Neil French), while Katelyn and even Aaron commented every now and then.

It helped to put Neil at ease; Andrew could tell that he was a bit apprehensive about being around so many strangers, hence why he'd held out his hand and Andrew had accepted. All Neil knew about the people in the back of the car was what Andrew had told him about the three, and that Andrew (mostly) trusted them. That Andrew was fine with them being around Neil for the next couple of days.

Neil's smile was natural and his posture relaxed by the time they reached Sweeties, though his expression was once more dubious as he stared at the restaurant from the parking lot. "Huh, somehow I'm reminded of your rather questionable food choices right now."

Patel nodded in agreement as she stood beside her partner. "Well, we _are_ in the South, after all. It's probably going to be deep-fried everything."

Nicky glared at them as he folded his arms over his chest. "You two uppity Yanks can take your bad attitudes back North and kiss my pert, perfect Southern ass before you go."

"First off, nice Southern hospitality there," Patel drawled. "Second, that's _not_ a denial that everything's deep-fried." She leaned in close to Neil. “They deep-fry _vegetables_ , you know, so watch out.”

“I’m already feeling sick to my stomach,” Neil groaned, only to sound even more miserable when Andrew grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him forward. “Are you trying for a heart-attack before thirty?”

“That would be nice, it would save me from your incessant chirping,” Andrew admitted. “Yours and Nicky’s.”

“Hey! I’m not the one slandering a local institution,” Nicky complained as he hurried to catch up. “They haven’t even tried the ice cream yet.”

“This night keeps on getting worse and worse,” Neil complained. “Bren, just shoot me now.”

“Sorry, Red, think your uncle might have something to say about that.”

“Just lie and tell him someone else did it.”

“Still gonna get in trouble one way or another.”

Andrew ignored the little bird’s attempts to wheedle his own death out of the amused bodyguard as they entered Sweeties; Dave was waiting to seat guests that night and after giving Neil and Bren an odd look for their ongoing ‘argument’ was quick to seat them at the table Andrew had reserved earlier in the week.

They were seated in a large round booth with Andrew at the one end, Neil next to him with Patel, Bren and Janna separating them from the ‘Foxes’; Robin didn’t appear happy with that since she seemed to have latched on to Patel, but she’d have to accept that there would be a limit of Fox/Raven mingling when it came the Ravens’ captain and his partner.

The table drew a lot of attention, which Andrew doubted was because of their costumes when over half of the other customers were dressed up as well. No, Bren and Janna stood out just a little, especially with Bren’s loud, deep voice and accent, and there was Neil with his deliberately tousled auburn hair gleaming beneath the fluorescent lights and blue eyes made all the more brilliant with the generous amount of kohl Nicky had smeared around them.

Andrew wasn’t leaving him alone for a moment at Eden’s and told himself the costume wasn’t a mistake at all.

“Look, just say that I choked on an ice cube and in trying to improvise a tracheotomy, the knife slipped and you cut my carotid artery instead,” Neil continued to argue as Beth came up to take their order. “Stuart will believe it, I’m _that_ unlucky.”

“Uhm… I can come back?” the server offered as she gawked at Neil, who had even handed his knife over to a laughing Bren. “I think I really should come back. Or maybe take a break now.”

“Ignore them, they’re idiots,” Andrew insisted as he shoved the handful of crackers he’d grabbed from the salad bar into her apron, since Dave had been too busy and hurried away after dropping them off at the table before he could do that; it made Neil stop trying to arrange his own demise and blink. “I’ll take a large chocolate milkshake, an order of fries and the double decker sundae. He’ll take a hot tea, the grilled chicken sandwich with a side of mac ‘n cheese and a scoop of orange sherbet,” he ordered for Neil.

“Wait, we’re ordering? Already?” Patel stopped leaning over to talk to Robin and started flipping through the menu, then shrugged. “I’ll take what Neil’s having, except do you have a spicy chicken sandwich?” She smiled when Beth nodded. “And coffee-flavored ice cream.”

The others put in their orders with Nicky helping Bren and Janna find something, while Neil poked Andrew in the ribs. “ _What’s with the crackers_?” he asked in German, his voice pitched low as he glanced at the salad bar, where other customers were grabbing the packets before heading to their table.

“ _You remember me telling you about cracker dust_?” Andrew had explained the drug to Neil one night, about how it was the only one he and his family did since it wasn’t addictive nor showed up on any drug tests. “ _This is where we get it_.”

“Ah.” Neil was thoughtful as he glanced around the restaurant once more. “ _You’ll be doing it tonight_?”

Andrew’s left hand slid beneath the table to settle on Neil’s left thigh, light at first until Neil smiled at him. “ _Aaron and Nicky look forward to it, but I won’t do it if you don’t want me to_.” If Neil would feel better around him if he didn’t have the drug in his system.

Neil gave a slight shrug. “ _You said it’s not strong so I trust you_.” He didn’t ask to try it himself, Andrew noticed, and suspected that Patel wouldn’t want any, either.

Around then Beth came back with their drink orders and a stack of napkins containing the cracker dust packets, which Andrew slid into his pocket while Bren and Janna gave him a lingering look. The discussion turned to the game earlier with Neil and Patel rubbing it in that their team won, at least until the food arrived and then Bren started talking about how Halloween was celebrated (or not) in England, with Nicky joining in about things in Germany, and that basically got them through the meal.

Everyone left money on the table for the bill, more than enough to cover the tab, then they left for Eden’s. Neil remained in the car with Andrew when Nicky and the others got out near the front door and Nicky fetched the VIP parking passes for Andrew, Meg and Bren. “Just ex-employees, huh?”

“We worked hard when we were staff and we’re good customers,” Andrew said as he slid the pass onto the dashboard of the GS before he went to find a parking spot.

“Okay.”

It took a few minutes to find a spot even with the pass, though they were back up front before Meg and Kenny. While they waited for the couple to rejoin the group, Bren motioned Andrew aside as he lit up a cigarette. “You’re gonna keep a level enough of a head tonight to look out for Red, right? Else he’s coming back with us.”

Andrew almost flicked the cigarette in the bastard’s face. “Yes.”

“Okay, just had to make sure. If I’m staying mostly sober tonight, you better be, too,” Bren grumbled before he went back over to Janna.

For a supposed orphan, Neil had way too many fucking nannies in his life.

Neil must have figured out that the talk wasn’t along the lines of ‘what time is it’ because he gave Andrew an apologetic smile. “Is it too late to head off to the cabin?”

“Not this weekend.” Though Andrew was a bit tempted.

“Dammit.” Then Neil’s eyes went wide as a group of large, burly men came up to join the line waiting to enter the club; they wore a variety of gladiator outfits which left a lot more skin bare than Aaron’s – oiled, hairy skin at that.

Patel actually cackled as she came over to give a stunned Neil a gentle shove in the back. “Those, Shorty, are prime examples of ‘bears’.”

“Oh.” He shifted closer to Andrew, who was glaring at several people in the line who were gazing at Neil with too-obvious interest. “If Bren can’t shoot me, maybe he can knock me out at least? I’m not sure I wanna-“

“Sorry!” Meg and Kenny finally showed up, running across the parking lot to join them. “Oh my god, this place is crazy! And that’s just the parking lot,” Meg exclaimed as she fussed with the mask of her outfit.

Since everyone was finally together (and one of the ‘bears’ wouldn’t stop staring at Neil), they went to the head of the line where Brady and Nolan let them in right away. “Stay close,” Andrew told Neil as they entered the crowded club, having to pitch his voice to be heard over the loud thrum of the dance music.

Neil appeared a bit spooked by the crowd, his blue eyes wide in the artful smears of kohl, and he was quick to follow Andrew through the throng of people to the bar. Once they neared the tables, Aaron and Nicky herded the rest of the group toward a couple of empty ones while Andrew, Neil and Janna continued onward.

“Figured you two could use a hand,” Janna called out as she followed. “That and I like to see who’s making my drinks.”

“Paranoid much?” Andrew asked once they reached the bar, where he was quick to pull Neil in close and wrap an arm around his waist to both discourage anyone from attempting to hit on him and prevent some handsy asshole from getting a knife shoved in their throat.

He suspected that was also part of the reason that Janna had tagged along.

“Perhaps, but that doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing,” she agreed as she positioned herself in a way to help block people from Neil. “Just ask your boyfriend – spiked drinks aren’t fun.”

“I’d like to be unconscious _now_ ,” Neil said in a very plaintive manner, which earned him a tight squeeze to his left hip.

“Hey, what can I – holy _fuck_ ,” Roland wheezed as he gaped at Andrew – Andrew and Neil. “ _Really_?” His gaze darted between the two of them as a shit-eating grin spread across his face. “ _All right then_.” He grabbed a bottle of whiskey and two shot glasses, filled them to the brim and slid one toward Andrew while he picked up the other. “Congrats,” he said as he raised the other one in a toast before tossing it back.

“Uhm… okay.” Neil sounded confused and glanced back and forth between the bartender and Andrew as Andrew finished his shot, while Janna first groaned then laughed. “What’s going on?”

“Old friend,” Andrew said, which made Janna arch an eyebrow; Neil knew that he’d had a ‘fuck-buddy’ in the last couple of years, he just didn’t know who, and Andrew wasn’t in the mood for a big reveal that night. “We need a round of drinks,” he told the overreacting asshole in an attempt to change the topic, “for eleven people.”

“Wow, you’re here with _friends_?” Roland asked with a chuckle that quickly faded when Andrew gave him a flat look. “Ah, right. Everyone in costume?” His smile returned when Andrew nodded.

“I’ll take a can of ginger ale,” Janna said as she leaned forward. “Some of us are driving so lots of bottled water.”

“Sure.” Roland didn’t bat an eye at the request, nor when Andrew told him to throw in some Water Moccasins for Neil, Patel and Robin. As soon as one of the flavored shots were ready, Andrew picked it up and offered it to his friend.

Neil eyed it with some trepidation but accepted it then tossed it back. “Huh,” he said as he licked at his black-stained lips to chase after a stray drop, “not bad. What’s in it?”

“Whiskey, peach schnapps, triple sec and sour mix.” Andrew figured Neil would like something with a fruity flavor and not quite as strong as ‘straight’ alcohol, especially since he doubted that he’d do many shots that night.

“Huh,” Neil repeated as he set the glass down. “Something different.” He leaned against Andrew while the rest of the drinks were finished and his eyes narrowed at Roland’s smug grin when Andrew handed over the folded bills to pay for that round then picked up the tray while Janna grabbed the water bottles.

“Have fun, you two.”

Andrew ignored the bartender.

The others had managed to grab a few tables (Andrew was willing to bet Bren had something to do with it) and push them together, and cheered when the drinks arrived. Aaron and Nicky were quick to grab some cracker dust while Kenny only took one packet and everyone else abstained, and Neil had one more shot while Pa- okay, _Marley_ and Robin only had two as well, with Robin sputtering as she drank hers down. “Oh, that’s… oh.” She coughed a little after the second one. “Are they always like that?”

“We’re keeping you away from Bren,” Marley said with a laugh (Andrew supposed he’d best get used to the pest). “Now feel up to a little dancing?”

Robin appeared a little uncertain, but she allowed herself to be talked onto the dance floor by Marley, Meg and Katelyn once the first round of drinks were all gone.

That left Andrew and Neil with Janna and Bren, the latter of which had only done a couple of whiskey shots. “Well? You two going to behave yourselves and try to stay out of trouble?” Bren asked as he draped the towel around his neck.

“Just go,” Neil told him. “You’ve been whinging about getting Janna on the dance floor all week.”

Bren grinned at that and held out a hand to the other bodyguard, who glanced at Neil before she accepted it. “We won’t be too far away.”

“Have fun for once.” Neil waved at them while they left then went to rub at his face before he seemed to remember about the makeup. “Fuck. How long did it take you to come up with this idea, hmm?” He grimaced as he dabbed at his lower lip.

“What can I say, I was inspired.” Andrew reached out to swipe at a smudge of the lipstick and felt when Neil’s breath caught at the touch. “Now you’re a goth bastard, too.”

“But… but not a lazy one,” Neil shot back.

“Hmm.” Andrew stared at him, took in the makeup which Nicky had done a too good job on, the artfully messed curls falling half in that too-attractive face, the black clothes clinging to a body honed by long (too long) hours out on the Exy court. He still felt as if Neil was a pipe-dream at times despite the phone calls and texts and weekends in the cabin, yet here the little bird sat within reach, would be next to him all weekend long.

Had kept yet another promise between them.

“This is the first Halloween I’ve celebrated in… in a really long time,” Neil admitted with a sad smile. “Other than a simple costume or two I wore for school when I was a child.”

Andrew leaned back and reached for his pack of cigarettes. “Did you ever go trick or treating?”

“No, my father wouldn’t let my mother and me out of his sight for that long – too easy for us to slip away in the confusion, I suppose.” Neil closed his eyes and inhaled when Andrew lit the cigarette. “What about you?”

“Couple of families would let me tag along with their kids or take me out, some wouldn’t.” Andrew shrugged to show that it was in the past. “Can buy my own candy now.”

That made Neil smile at him and hold out his hand again, the expression softening when their fingers intertwined. “Imagine how much you can buy when you go pro.”

It was on the tip of Andrew’s tongue to tell him about the Barons, to come clean… but just like with Roland, he didn’t want to ruin the night, the weekend. He’d tell the truth at some point, he disliked lies in both others and himself, but… not that weekend.

He realized that he was running out of weekends.

Yet he couldn’t see ruining the time he had with Neil when his little bird sat so close and teased him about what car he’d buy once he joined his new pro team, some ostentatious sports car that Neil didn’t know. Andrew made up ridiculous features just to hear Neil laugh (ice cream pint holders, compartments to keep his chocolate from melting, etc.) and had started a debate on which side of the road was best to drive on when Marley and Robin returned to the table.

“Eh, people are too grabby out there,” Marley complained while Robin nodded. “After Bren punched the third guy, we figured to hell with it.”

Neil arched an eyebrow at that. “You’re letting Bren defend your honor for you?”

Marley shrugged while she grabbed the last of the water bottles and gave one of them to Robin before she opened the other. “I did some punching myself, but he packs a lot more force so I figured let _him_ ruin their nights.” She paused to take a sip while Robin grinned at Andrew and made a motion of something falling down. “Though I don’t want him to get thrown out of here so yeah, we’re gonna sit for a while.” She grimaced at Andrew. “Your cousin seems fine with the groping, though.”

What a surprise. “We’re going for another round of drinks,” he declared as he jumped down from the stool then motioned for Neil to follow. “Watch the table.”

“Okay.” Marley’s eyes narrowed as she looked her partner up and down. “Coming right back?” When neither Neil nor Andrew answered, she clicked her tongue. “Right,” she drawled, “just drinks.”

Andrew ignored her as he grabbed Neil’s left wrist and pulled him through the crowded club; like before, Neil remained close but he kept looking all around, not only because of the variety of costumes everyone was wearing – or not wearing. “Oh hell, some guy _is_ wearing that devil costume!” Neil squeaked in shock. “That wasn’t a joke?”

Apparently not; Andrew refused to look because he already had enough traumatic memories to last him a life time.

They reached the one store room, which should be empty since Roland was busy behind the bar; considering the bartender’s reaction earlier, Andrew didn’t think anyone would object if he put the room to ‘good use’ for a little while.

“This isn’t the bar,” Neil teased once they were inside and the door locked behind them.

“Nice to know you haven’t taken too many hits to the head _yet_ ,” Andrew said as he leaned against a bit of bare wall.

“I do have my moments.” Neil smiled even as he gave Andrew a quizzical look and only rested against him with his hands on Andrew’s shoulders after a quick nod. “So, here we are, _not_ at the bar, all alone at last. Any ideas?” he asked as he leaned in to nuzzle at Andrew’s chin.

“I want to blow you,” Andrew said as his hands rested on Neil’s jean-clad hips; he’d wanted that ever since he’d seen his friend walk out of the shower room in the costume (had seen him running around with that damn smile on his face out on court).

Neil’s breath hitched at the declaration, just like it always did when Andrew confessed such a thing; they’d ‘advanced’ to that stage in their physical relationship in the last few weeks. Yet instead of pulling away and changing positions with Andrew, Neil only tilted his head back enough to look him in the eye. “But what if… what if I want to blow you?” he asked.

“Me?” Andrew’s brain froze for a moment at the image of Neil on his knees before him, pretty mouth open and- and Neil had asked once before, after Andrew had given _him_ a blow job the first time, but had dropped the matter when Andrew had said ‘no’. “I’m not….”

“This is where you fooled around with others, isn’t it?” Neil asked as he ran his hands back and forth along Andrew’s shoulders. “That’s how you know about this room, right?” Something dark flashed across his face for a moment. “Including the bartender? That’s why-“

Andrew threaded his fingers through Neil’s hair and pulled him in for a passionate, harsh kiss to shut him up before he said something stupid, a kiss which made Neil moan in the prettiest of ways. “It was just Roland,” he admitted several seconds later.

“Hmph, ‘just Roland’,” Neil grumbled as the darkness – jealousy, Andrew realized with some satisfaction – flashed across his face again. “You came back here and… uhm… ‘blew’ each other?”

It would be amusing, Neil’s fumbling attempts to talk ‘sex’ if Andrew didn’t know how little he’d known about it before having the subject brutally inflicted upon him with no explanation. There was a flicker of anger which he forced down as he stroked his thumbs along Neil’s cheekbones. “No, we came back here while I blew him and he sometimes jerked me off, if you must know.”

“Oh.” Those chiseled cheeks grew warm with embarrassment beneath his touch and Neil would have ducked his head if able to, and he offered Andrew a nervous smile. “Okay. Uhm, you don’t have… I mean, if it’s too much then-“

Andrew kissed the idiot quiet again as he pulled him close, part of him amazed that someone like Neil Josten could get flustered and jealous over a person like _him_. He kept waiting for it all to be one long, impossible dream, to wake up and find out that he’d been in a drug-induced coma or something (probably from taking a damn Exy ball to the head)… but so far, nothing.

That time Neil was pliant against him, let Andrew lick into his mouth and nip along his jawline until he whined in frustration, then give him a gentle push away. When Neil blinked in confusion over the gesture, Andrew took a deep breath to brace himself. “We don’t have all night,” he said as he gave Neil what he hoped was an impassive look.

“Eh?” Neil blinked again then smiled. “Are you sure?”

Didn’t the idiot hate it when Andrew asked that question? “Hurry up.” He even snapped his fingers for emphasis, which made Neil laugh as he leaned in for one more kiss, a quick peck on the lips.

The truth was that Andrew felt a touch apprehensive at first at letting Neil do such a thing for him, but it was _Neil_. It was the gorgeous, trusting idiot who’d come so far with Andrew, who’d allowed himself to be dressed up in some stupid outfit and led into the store room of a damn fetish club to make out.

That and Andrew trusted Neil in return, trusted that he wouldn’t offer such a thing if he didn’t want to do it. That and he was only human, was a horny young man turned on by the thought of his (not) boyfriend down on his knees with Andrew’s cock in his mouth.

The apprehension faded away with the attentive manner Neil took to undo the button and zipper of Andrew’s jeans, to gaze at him the entire time as if watching for any signs of discomfort or a change of mind. Neil was so fucking gorgeous on his knees like that, those blue eyes rimmed with kohl and lips darkened with whatever glossy black lipstick Nicky had found, lips which Neil licked to moisten as Andrew cursed and shoved his pants and underwear down his thighs in a rare bout of impatience, his cock fully erect in anticipation of what was about to happen.

“Hair okay?” he asked before Neil leaned forward.

“Don’t pull,” Neil mumbled; Andrew nodded in understanding since he didn’t like having his hair yanked on, either, and then sucked in a sharp breath as Neil’s warm, moist mouth slid down his cock.

He struggled not to buck his hips forward as his fingers flexed in Neil’s loose curls, to not thrust deeper into that wonderful sensation engulfing him while he gazed at the pale eyes looking up at him as if he was the only thing of importance in the world. His fingers tightened for a moment, especially when Neil pulled back to lick along the length of his cock, but he forced himself to relax his grip as his friend’s lips slid back down around him once again.

Andrew fought to breathe, to keep his knees from buckling as ecstasy skittered up his spine to overload his brain, as he felt himself coming apart with pathetic ease. He tried to distract himself, to distance himself from the intense emotions churning away inside his body, only to bite into his bottom lip to stifle a cry as he came when Neil tightened his hand around the base of his cock and dragged it up fast while sucking even harder.

Thankful for the wall behind him as he slumped against it for support, Andrew let his hands fall to Neil’s shoulders then pulled him up and forward for a sloppy kiss once he could more or less breathe. The lipstick was smeared all around Neil’s mouth and his hair was a mess, and Andrew was certain he’d savor the image for years to come.

As soon as he was certain that he could stand on his own, Andrew reversed their positions, pulled his pants back up then went down on his knees in front of Neil, who groaned out Andrew’s name as his own pants were undone and jerked down his toned thighs. Andrew gave a gentle nip to the scarred skin on Neil’s right thigh then nuzzled the indent leading toward his friend’s groin before he took Neil’s hard cock in his mouth.

He’d always derived some sort of satisfaction from giving blowjobs, from breaking others down with his hands and mouth, but Neil… _Neil_. His little bird was so responsive, had the most addictive moans and gasps, would shiver while combing trembling fingers through Andrew’s hair until he came while groaning out Andrew’s name, expression wrecked with pleasure and gaze locked on Andrew’s face.

Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Andrew rose to his feet (knees and back protesting a bit since it had been a long day) to kiss Neil’s parted lips for a couple of seconds before he pulled away to grab two bar towels so they could clean themselves off enough to reach the bathroom.

Neil was even more of a mess than before – his face flushed and makeup smeared, clothes disarrayed and hair a rat’s nest – and Andrew felt an irrational dislike for several heartbeats at the thought of them leaving the store room, to step outside where everyone could see his friend until he managed to stomp on the emotion.

That and his phone kept buzzing, which meant that Nicky and Aaron and probably Bren were texting him to find out where the hell he’d gone off to with Neil and how much longer for another round of drinks. “Come on.”

“Uhm, okay.” Neil once again shuffled close to Andrew as they stepped out into the crowded club, with Andrew staring down several people who sent interested looks their way while he held on to Neil’s right wrist to keep a certain stab-happy little bird from pulling a knife on anyone.

There was some impressive cursing from Neil when he tried to scrub off the black lipstick without much luck when they reached the bathroom (even Andrew had some on his lower face and neck, but it was easier for him to remove), and gave up after a couple of minutes. “You’re a fucking prat,” Neil snapped on the way to the bar, eyes alight with anger and hands clenched into fists.

“No, I’m a skeleton,” Andrew insisted as he pointed at his t-shirt. “Do you need your eyes checked?”

“I need to call my uncle about a favor,” Neil gritted out through clenched teeth, yet he let Andrew ‘pin’ him to the bar and breathed out a ‘yes’ before parting his lips for a quick yet intense kiss.

“Really, guys, no floor show when I’ve still got a couple of hours left to work,” Roland groaned as if in pain as he leaned against the bar near them. “I appreciate the thought, though.”

Andrew gave him the finger while Neil resumed glaring. “Another round.”

Neil also glared at a couple of assholes who came a little too close while Andrew watched Roland mix up another tray full of drinks, and when it came time to pay, Neil batted Andrew’s hand aside. “Let me get this round, all right?”

“You have money?” Andrew knew that Neil got a small fraction of his endorsement ‘salary’ (a miniscule amount, really, and only because of his uncle) as well as a stipend from being a Raven (now that Noguchi and Dan had taken over for Tetsuji), but most of that went into a savings account (someone, an _insecure little prick_ perhaps, didn’t want him to have too much cash on hand ‘just in case’). “This is more than a couple of coffees.”

Neil rolled his eyes at that and handed over his wallet. “Stuart made sure I had some cash for the weekend. It’s not fair that you pay for everyone, especially when you fly up to see me so much.”

That had been one of their longest running arguments – Neil wanting to help with the plane tickets, which Andrew didn’t give a damn about when he wasn’t dropping money at Eden’s almost every week and would be signing a pro contract soon enough – so Andrew decided to let his friend ‘win’ this one and accepted the wallet. He was mildly impressed by all the fifties tucked inside of it and slipped a few of them out to pay for the drinks and leave Roland the usual generous tip.

There were some arch looks and smirks when they returned to the tables with the drinks, everyone back from the dance floor and thirsty for either alcohol or water. Aaron and Nicky did another round of shots and dust, though Andrew abstained from the latter since he would be driving everyone home (and was keeping watch over Neil), while Neil only had one more shot for the night.

Janna and Meg stuck with water while Marley, Robin and Katelyn had a couple more shots each, just enough to be buzzed but not enough to be drunk. Bren had a couple of double shots of whiskey, but Andrew suspected that the bodyguard was barely affected by the alcohol between his bulk and tolerance for drinking. No, it was Aaron, Nicky and Kenny who were going to be a bit worse for wear the next day, not that Andrew cared as long as they made it home in one piece.

He and Neil spent the rest of the night talking about potential cities to live in (Andrew preferred warmth and decent infrastructure, Neil anywhere large enough to lose oneself in), until it was time for last call and he had Bren and Janna help round up the drunken idiots so they could leave before it got too crazy out in the parking lot.

Andrew wondered what it would be like, going to Eden’s almost every Friday night with Neil, to have him there next to him while they (he) drank and smoked, to sneak off to the store room from time to time and then ride back to the house together with Nicky and Aaron. What would have happened if Gordon hadn’t been a bastard a few years ago and made that damn forum post, if the Moriyamas hadn’t found out about Neil (Nathaniel).

One couldn’t undo the past (couldn’t erase it), but Neil was with him now, would be there in the future (if he dared to believe that such a good thing wouldn’t be fucked up for once).

They reached the house, where Nicky mumbled something about ‘showing it off’ while Katelyn helped Aaron inside; Bren and Janna had followed them instead of driving straight to the rental, as Meg and the others had, probably to make sure that Neil arrived ‘safe and sound’ – that and so Bren could hand over Neil’s travel bag, it seemed. A rather heavy travel bag.

“Watch him,” Bren ordered Andrew with a stern look before waving goodbye.

Nicky was bouncing from one foot to the other on the front porch as if he had to go to the bathroom, the porch which he’d paid someone to paint a couple of weeks ago (Andrew hadn’t complained because he figured it would help the moron sell the place in a few more months). “Come on!” He waved at Neil and then nearly fell on his face as he tried to bow and wave the two of them inside the front door at the same time.

Neil blinked at the bright lights of the kitchen when they stepped inside – the place had been cleaned within an inch of its life in the past month, it seemed. The cupboards gleamed with polish and the floor shined with wax, and there was even a bigger table in the middle of the room (no wonder Aaron had bitched about Nicky ‘working him to death’ the last few visits to Columbia). “Well, it’s not much but it’s home,” Nicky said with a slight slur from all of the alcohol. “Sometimes.”

“Ah, it’s… it looks really nice,” Neil said with an honest smile as he glanced around. “You guys are so lucky to have something like this.”

Nicky gazed at him as if trying to figure out if he was joking or not, and then grinned while holding out his arms. “Aw, nuestra casa es tu- ack!” He squealed in pain when Andrew kicked him away from Neil, not in the mood to have his friend molested – especially when Neil cringed from the ‘embrace’. “What?”

“I told you, _no touching_. Try it again and I cut off your fingers,” Andrew promised. “Now go to bed.”

“It was just gonna be a hug,” Nicky sniffed as if hurt.

“I’m not big on hugs,” Neil said in a quiet voice as he shuffled closer to Andrew. “Sorry.”

“Of course not.” Nicky appeared sad for a moment, until he gazed at Andrew and Neil for a couple of seconds. “Aw, the two of you, I can’t take it. Imma gonna crash. Night.” He waved to them, the smile back on his face as he stumbled out of the kitchen.

Neil watched him leave then gave Andrew a nervous smile. “Bed now?”

“Hell yes.” Andrew made sure that the door was locked behind them then grabbed some bottled water from the fridge for the both of them before he led Neil upstairs. There was the sound of faint voices from Aaron’s room, which he deliberately ignored as he pointed out the bathroom between the two bedrooms then stepped into his own room.

Neil glanced around the room with its full-sized bed, the two bookcases almost overwhelmed with books, the small dresser and matching nightstand from IKEA, the plain desk; Nicky had tried to ‘give the room some personality’ with the black and white curtains, the black bedspread and plush dark blue rug on the floor (it can’t _all_ be black, Andrew!), but hadn’t crammed obnoxious primary colors down his throat or hung posters on the wall or any of that other shit, and Andrew hadn’t bothered with anything other than the bookshelves. “Huh. Not helping with the whole ‘goth’ thing, you know,” Neil said with a lopsided grin.

“Says the little bird who lives in a room with black walls,” Andrew taunted.

Neil grimaced as he set his bag on the chair and unzipped it. “Not my idea.”

“Hmm.” Andrew watched him pull out a small travel kit and a change of clothes for the night, then hesitate before he dug into the bottom of the expensive leather bag. “Uhm… okay, look, this was Bren’s idea, all right? I mean, probably not _just_ his idea and he made me swear to give it to you, the bastard, said I couldn’t keep it for myself,” Neil appeared angry about that for some reason, “and a special lock box should arrive for it tomorrow, but I think it might be part of the reason why-“

Tired of the babbling and hopeful of getting some sleep at some point that night, Andrew stepped forward to gently chuck his idiot beneath the chin to make Neil shut up and look at him. “What. Is. It?”

“Ah.” Neil gazed at him for a moment or two then sighed. “Do you know how to shoot?” he asked as he pulled a holstered and locked gun out of the bag.

Okay, not what Andrew was expecting; he was quiet as Neil handed him the gun, muzzle pointed away from them both and at the floor even though there was a lock blocking the trigger. Once Andrew had a firm grip on it, Neil handed over a set of keys for the lock then set two boxes of ammo on the desk. “It’s a Glock 19,” Neil explained. “Bit of a kick but not as bad as some others. If you’re not familiar with guns then we can work with some targets at the cabin, but Bren and probably Stuart wanted you to have it this weekend since Bren and Janna aren’t right next door, and it’s probably not a bad idea for you to have one just in case for the rest of the time.”

Neil had told Andrew about his mother teaching him how to shoot, about him using the gun to defend himself and her while they’d been on the run, that he was a good shot and wished that Ichirou and his uncle would let him have one again (Andrew could only imagine the damage he’d do to the next prick who wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer). “I’m not against it in principle, but I’ve a criminal record,” Andrew reminded his friend. “And yes, target practice would be a good idea,” he said as he motioned Neil aside so he could place the gun and ammunition in the desk’s drawer, certain that Aaron and Nicky wouldn’t go digging through there within the next day or so.

“Bren will handle any paperwork you’ll need for the thing,” Neil assured him as he grabbed the stack of clothes and kit bag. “So, uhm, I’ll go get ready?”

Andrew nodded as he pulled out his phone to text Bren about the gun, to tell the bodyguard to go ahead with the paperwork (a license and whatever else was needed to keep him out of trouble) as well as castigate the moron for not handing it over to him directly – there’d been no reason to tempt Neil like that.

Bren told him that he’d have the paperwork by Sunday and to fuck off to bed, complete with winking smiley face.

There was a good chance that a certain British asshole would serve as Andrew’s first official target.

Annoyances aside, protecting Neil was Andrew’s responsibility, and he took his promises seriously. If Bren and Stuart felt that Neil, the former ‘lover’ of a powerful crime lord and the prick’s talented translator, required something more than knives to keep him safe, then Andrew would learn how to shoot the pistol.

It may very well be that Andrew had been given the gun _because_ of Ichirou, considering the whole ‘Neil Josten is really Nathaniel Wesninski’ mess.

Neil, as always, didn’t take long in the bathroom (he finally got the makeup off somehow), and went over to one of the bookshelves when Andrew left to take a piss, brush his teeth, wash up and change for the night. He returned to find Neil still perusing the book titles, hands clasped behind his back as if unwilling to risk reaching out to touch anything.

The bed was a little smaller than what they were used to sharing, but by then they _were_ used to sharing a space while they slept. Andrew positioned himself with his back to the wall and they spent a few minutes leisurely kissing, mapping out the feel and taste of each other as exhaustion crashed down on them before Neil let out a displeased little moan and rolled over.

“Night, ‘Drew.”

“Shut up,” Andrew said even as he draped his left arm over Neil’s waist, tired yet oddly settled over the fact that Neil was currently in his bed.

There weren’t any dreams that night, but then Andrew had been up since early morning and had played an intense game. He partially drifted awake at one point in the morning when Neil got out of bed, only to fall back asleep when Neil murmured something to him; the bed was warm and comfortable, and it had been an exhausting day, Friday. Still filled with a rare contentment, he pulled the covers up to his nose and slept a little longer... until he stretched out his right arm and it sunk in that the other half of the bed was cold and Neil was nowhere to be found.

Well, there went his plans for starting off the morning with a mutual hand job, didn't it?

All out of sorts for some reason, he got out of bed, pulled on a pair of sweatpants and went into the bathroom to relieve his full bladder and brush his teeth. There were voices down in the kitchen, which turned out to be a wide-awake Katelyn and a sleepy but grinning Nicky, who actually skipped over to the coffee machine to fix a cup for Andrew. "Ah, Neil's out on a run with the others," Nicky said, which explained why a glowering Bren was seated at the table with his phone in hand.

Bren grunted and tapped the device's screen. "Should be back soon." He gave Andrew a bleary gaze, as if not quite awake yet despite the large mug in front of him. "Jan says few blocks away." He paused to slurp from the mug. "Keep 'em in bed tomorrow, yeah?"

Andrew merely stared back in silence while he accepted a mug of sweetened coffee from his cousin.

Meanwhile, Katelyn was busy over at the stove, where she was cooking sausage, scrambled eggs and something in the oven. "Are they coming right over?"

"Probably not," Bren grunted as he broke off the staring match with Andrew to resume checking his phone. "Jan thinks one or two of 'em will want to shower first."

"True, they have been out there for over an hour."

"Oh my god, don't they realize it's the weekend? They're supposed to rest and take it easy," Nicky complained as he began to set the table while Andrew slipped out of the kitchen with his mug of coffee to return to his bedroom, where he riffled through Neil's bag to pick up a clean outfit for the zealous idiot to wear. He'd just set it aside on the bed when a sweaty little bird finally returned, Edgar Allan sweatshirt clinging to his upper body and face flushed from exertion.

"There you are."

"I'm not the one who decided to go for a run," Andrew said as he picked up the clothes.

Neil shrugged while he pushed aside the damp bangs clinging to his forehead. "Marley and I are used to practice in the mornings, and the others said they'd join us when she mentioned the run. It was sort of fun, at least until Kenny and Robin grew too tired."

Because those two weren't overachieving little birds (or ex-birds), were they? Andrew approached his friend and didn't stop until he was almost pressed against Neil. "Yes or no?" he asked, his intention becoming clear after a couple of seconds, judging from Neil’s bright smile.

“Yes,” his (not) boyfriend exhaled as he slowly reached out to tug on the front of Andrew’s shirt as he began to walk backward out of the bedroom; he turned around once out in hallway and waited until they were in the bathroom to strip out of his sweaty clothes.

Andrew dumped the clean clothes on the sink’s counter then tugged off his own while Neil started the water running in the shower, which they barely waited to warm up before they stepped into while kissing.

It might be annoying as fuck to deal with Neil’s Exy obsession, with that stupid urge to practice all the time and go running (the knife practice was fun, Andrew had to admit), but it did do amazing things to the junkie’s body. The sculpted calves, the lean yet muscular thighs, the indents sloping from those prominent hipbones to Neil’s groin (and uncircumcised cock), the toned abdomen and chest… Andrew enjoyed stroking his hands along all of it, the feel of firm muscle beneath water- and soap-slick skin. Neil had even taken the time to shave any sparse stubble that morning, the need to appear Raven perfect long drilled into his addled head.

Andrew enjoyed pushing him (slowly) against the tiled wall of the shower and thrusting against him as he rubbed his cheek along Neil’s chin before chasing a drop of water down his _friend’s_ arched neck while Neil choked out his name. Strong arms wrapped around his shoulders as they rocked together, the motions hard and fast as the soap made their skin slick.

(Or maybe it was just the _need_ to feel the other, to be so close after too much time apart, to touch and taste and savor while they could.)

Neil’s arms tightened around Andrew’s shoulders as he came, his voice quavered as Andrew’s name echoed through the room. Andrew stifled the last part of it with a kiss as he felt his own approaching orgasm twist up his insides with pleasure and want and something inexorable, something that made a muffled, unintelligible sound crawl out of his throat.

They stood slumped against the wall for a few seconds before Neil groaned while Andrew forced himself to stand up, then they both finished their showers. Andrew was done first and pulled on his clothes which had been left on the floor. “I’ll be in the bedroom.”

“Okay.” Neil gave him a slight smile as he turned off the running water.

Aaron was waiting outside in the hall and gave Andrew a disgruntled look when he stepped out of the bathroom. "Just great, I hope you cleaned up in there from... whatever." He shuddered a little then leaned against the wall. “You’re not the only one to use the bathroom, you know.”

“Oh, like you and cheerleader?” Andrew taunted, which made his brother grow flustered.

“I hate this family,” Aaron muttered, but as far as Andrew could tell (he kept the bedroom door open), his brother didn’t say anything when Neil left the bathroom, which was a wise choice on Aaron’s part.

“It’s a bit weird, seeing your brother like that,” Neil commented as he draped his sweaty clothes over his bag. “It’s like… some sort of defective copy of you.”

“I’m sure he’d appreciate hearing that,” Andrew remarked as he waited for Neil to finish fussing with his clothes so they could go get something to eat; Neil hadn’t complained about Andrew choosing the PSU sweatshirt for him to wear and had a bit of stubble burn along his chin and neck, which Andrew was certain the imbeciles in the kitchen would pick up on right away.

“Yeah.” Neil stepped away from his bag and gave Andrew another slight smile. “Breakfast?”

“Finally.” Neil laughed as he tagged along, his footsteps almost silent as they went downstairs.

The others had just arrived, from the looks of it, their hair damp and cheeks flushed. “-feel like my legs are made out of lead,” Kenny complained from his spot at the table. “I’m a striker, not a long-distance runner!”

Marley made a rude noise from where she was slumped against an exhausted yet cheerful Robin. “No wonder you Foxes suck so much if you can’t handle a few miles.” Then she grinned as she caught sight of Neil. “There you are! Need help cleaning up or something?”

“Or something,” Neil said with a dry tone while Nicky sniggered until Andrew stomped on his foot. “What’s for breakfast?”

“Not the usual,” Marley informed him as she held up her plate of scrambled eggs, bacon and cinnamon rolls. “Hey, they have lots of chili pepper sauce, at least!”

“Wonderful.” Neil didn’t sound happy but he smiled at Katelyn when she handed him a plate.

“We got your spicy needs met, though it looks like Andrew alrea- ow, _stop it_!” Nicky shouted when Andrew stepped on his foot again. “ _What_?”

Andrew gave him a narrow look as he fetched coffee for him and Neil, which seemed to be enough to subdue the pest for the time being. By the time he fixed his coffee to his preference (Neil was easy since he drank his black, the heathen), Neil had made them both plates – Andrew’s had a lot more eggs and several cinnamon rolls on it, while Neil’s had two slices of toast.

They sat down at the breakfast bar with Bren and Janna since there still wasn’t room at the table for everyone, not that Andrew would have wanted to cram in if there was. Janna nodded to them in greeting while Bren continued to eat.

“Quiet neighborhood,” she remarked after a sip of coffee. “They must love you guys.”

Andrew shrugged and waited until the one roll was finished before he answered. “We were too busy with class and work to cause any grief.” That and Nicky did try his best to be a ‘responsible’ homeowner, to have someone to cut the grass (even when money had been tight) and keep the place in reasonable shape (Andrew and Aaron had pitched in somewhat, they just drew the line at yardwork) so Luther had no reason to say he wasn’t being a good ‘guardian’.

It didn’t take a psychology degree to know that Nicky was looking for the home he’d never had with those bastards who’d ‘raised’ him, who’d refused to accept him for what he was and taught him to be ashamed of something he couldn’t change. Andrew and Aaron were too broken in their own way to give it to their cousin, but they’d cobbled together something better than Nicky ever had with the Hemmicks, something to tide him over until he could return to Germany and Erik Klose.

“See there you go again, casting your hooligan self on some poor kid,” Bren chided as he jabbed his fork in his girlfriend’s direction, which earned him a cool look for a couple of seconds before Janna rolled her dark eyes. “Not everyone’s a monster like you.”

“I can snap your neck without breaking out in a sweat,” she told him while she broke a piece of bacon in half. “So behave.”

“Oooh, tell me more.”

Neil’s brow furrowed as he gazed at them for a moment then turned to Andrew. “Are they flirting?”

“Unfortunately so,” Andrew confirmed.

“Then why do I get yelled at when I talk to you like that?”

Andrew stared at Bren long enough to make the bodyguard uncomfortable. “Stop listening in on our calls all the time.”

“Hey, it’s my job,” Bren mumbled as he picked up his mug. “Not like I wanna be there while you two insult each other as misplaced signs of affection due to your awful childhoods.” When Neil gaped at him, he grunted. “What? A guy can’t read a relationship book or two?”

“He reads whatever anyone lends him,” Janna explained. “I’ve found the trashiest romance novels on his phone along with alternative history and some weird biographies about people I’ve never heard about.”

“That’s the fun of them,” Bren said with a sniff. “Who wants to read about boring famous people?”

Andrew let the bodyguards bicker about Bren’s reading preferences while he and Neil finished their breakfast, then the two of them left the loud room so Andrew could smoke out on the porch. Neil was quiet as he stood next to Andrew as if content just to be near him, and Andrew’s chest felt warm from more than the cigarette smoke filling it with each inhaled breath.

He should be used to it by then, but it was so much stronger when Neil was next to him, when he stood there wearing Andrew’s sweatshirt and bore the marks that Andrew had left on his neck. When he stared at Andrew with such open _emotion_.

Andrew clicked his tongue and poked the idiot in the right cheek. “Staring.”

“Hmm, well, what do you expect?” Neil stated with a laugh. “Nothing else of interest out here.”

“Admire the nice paint job Nicky had done for you,” Andrew told him, and clicked his tongue again when Neil pretended to examine the porch post with interest.

Yes, he _should_ be used to what this preposterous little bird did to him by now, should have grown desensitized to shy smiles and bright blue eyes and everything else but for some reason could no longer care that he wasn’t.

So much for being smart, but again, he couldn’t make himself care when Neil pointedly kept those blue eyes focused on the stupid post yet shuffled closer until he could lean ever so slightly against Andrew.

Sometimes being smart was overrated.

*******

Neil and Marley stood by the grill and stared down at the meat patties and hot dogs which Nicky had just placed on it. "So you cook the food like that?" Marley asked in an uncertain tone of voice. "On an open flame created by those weird black chunks of... whatever?"

"Is that safe?" Neil added, his tone just as confused. "I mean... that doesn't look very sanitary. I don't know about this. Is it normal?"

Nicky, a spatula held in his right hand and a 'french kiss the cook' apron on over his PSU sweatshirt, gave them an incredulous look that soon turned to one that was a mix of sorrow and abject pity. "Oh you poor, _poor dears_ ," he all but wailed as he waved the spatula in the air; despite it being late October, for some reason the Foxes backliner had insisted on holding a 'proper' cookout for them. "You poor, deprived darlings, let me-"

Andrew shoved him away before he could wrap his arms around Neil, who had taken a hasty step back. "They're trolling you, Dan has had them over for plenty of barbeques already," he said with the slightest hint of disgust before he directed a clear 'behave' look Neil's way.

"Aw, come on, don't spoil our fun," Marley complained with a smirk. "He's just so wonderfully gullible."

Now Nicky appeared indignant as he pointed the spatula at them and sputtered a little. "And _you're_ evil."

Marley laughed at that before she got on him about adding some spices to the hamburger patties while Andrew led Neil away. "Having fun tormenting Nicky?"

"He is rather excitable," Neil admitted. "Kind of difficult to believe the two of you are related." He laughed as he was giving a light smack to his ribs. “Seriously, why is he doing all of this?” The painting of porches and organizing movie marathons (even if Neil had only watched one of them with the wizards and something about magic before falling asleep) and generally being all hyper and happy.

Hyper and happy wasn’t a bad thing, really. Neil didn’t know too many hyper and happy people other than Meg… he just wanted Nicky to keep his hands to himself.

Andrew _really_ wanted Nicky to keep his hands to himself.

(Neil was thankful for Andrew, which wasn’t anything new.)

Everyone went back inside as soon as the food was done on the barbeque, to enjoy the sides of macaroni salad and twice baked potatoes that Meg and Katelyn (Neil didn’t know why Andrew didn’t like the young woman) had made to go along with the cheeseburgers and hot dogs.

It definitely wasn’t one of the healthiest meals he’d ever eaten, but it was… it was nice to sit in the living room near Andrew while surrounded by his friends (he suspected something was going on with Marley and Robin since the two were barely more than a few feet apart) even if Nicky was too attentive and Aaron kept giving him intent looks.

They watched more of the wizard movies while Andrew and the others drank, Neil content with his mugs of herbal tea that Nicky made for him, and the evening was…

He suspected that if he’d had anything resembling a normal life, it would have been something like this.

He was trying to figure out the whole ‘wizard’ thing and failing (so they could do all these things with magic yet couldn’t figure out some simple detection or protection spells? Or just use a damn gun?) when Andrew nudged him in the back; he was sitting on the floor at Andrew’s feet. Looking up, Neil realized that Andrew was motioning for them to head to the second floor and smiled.

“That’s enough Harry Potter for this one,” Andrew proclaimed as Neil scurried to his feet.

“Eh, but we haven’t finished the series yet,” Nicky complained even as Kenny kicked him in the legs.

“He’ll survive somehow.” Andrew gave the room his familiar two-fingered salute while Neil waved ‘good night’ to Marley, Bren and Janna before they went up the stairs.

“It’s not like I can’t figure it out,” Neil said on their way to the bedroom. “The kid wins, right? Those type of movies always have a happy ending.”

Judging from Andrew’s disgusted look, he was right. “What’s the point then?” Neil asked. “Why bother wasting so much time on watching the things?” He didn’t mind so much when he was with Andrew because it meant they were spending time together, but all the nights at Dan’s or when Marley made him watch things to ‘catch up’ and so forth just seemed silly when he could guess the ending even if he didn’t know the actors or the backstory.

“Why bother with a stupid game?” Andrew countered as he sat down on the bed.

“Because there’s no guarantee there that I’ll win.” Neil sat down next to him and stared at his hands, at the numerous callouses on his palms and fingers from holding a racquet for so many hours. “There’s so many variables in each game.”

“Yet you seem to win each time.” When Neil looked at him to argue, Andrew shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about Exy tonight.”

Then why bring it up? Instead, Neil gave him an inquisitive look. “What do you want to talk about then?”

“I want to try something.”

“Okay.” Neil smiled and leaned in a little. “What?”

Andrew leaned forward a little as well, his almost golden eyes intent on Neil’s face. “I want to make you come by fingering you,” he said, his voice almost void of any emotion but those eyes dilated with desire. “Yes or no?”

Neil’s breath caught in his throat as he thought about Andrew’s hands on him… _in_ him, about the pleasure it would make him feel. About it being another sign of trust between them, another step forward (even if sometimes he didn’t know what they were moving _toward_ ). “Yes,” Neil breathed out before he was pushed onto the bed with Andrew following him down.

He loved how Andrew kissed him, with an intensity and thoroughness that drove all thoughts from his mind except for the person touching him. He adored losing himself in Andrew, certain that it was safe to do so, that he wouldn’t be hurt, that there would only be pleasure and good things to follow.

That was such a rare thing in Neil’s life.

Yet no matter how much he trusted Andrew (enough to lay naked on his friend’s bed with Andrew kneeling over him), he didn’t ‘blank’ out entirely, mindful to pay attention to Andrew’s reactions as well, to the boundaries that _he_ shouldn’t cross in return. He gazed back as Andrew used some lube to slick up his fingers, searching for any hesitancy on his friend’s part (was he only doing it because he thought _Neil_ wanted it?) and reached out to slide his fingers into tousled blond hair when Andrew leaned in for a lingering kiss.

“Yes?” Andrew asked as he pulled back a little.

“Yes, for me at least,” Neil said as his fingers trailed down to stroke along Andrew’s sensitive neck and smiled when that provoked a faint shiver. It was soon his turn when Andrew began to place kisses along Neil’s chest as those slick fingers rubbed along his entrance, a gentle nip at his collarbone the same time as one finger pressed inside.

They’d talked about _things_ (a rather uncomfortable discussion all in all), which was probably why Andrew used his left hand to stroke Neil’s cock while he slowly fingered Neil open, why he peppered Neil’s upper chest and neck with kisses and gentle nips with his lips now and then while Neil shuddered and gasped from the pleasure spiking higher and higher inside of him from each flick and curl of Andrew’s fingers.

The feel of Andrew’s mouth on his neck, of him stroking Neil’s cock while ecstasy jolted along his nerves sharp enough to snatch away his breath – Neil hooked a trembling leg around Andrew’s thighs as his hands fisted the duvet beneath him, as his hips struggled to grind back then rock forward, as he fought to suck in a lungful of air so he could expel it out to-

Andrew’s name came out as a strangled wheeze as Neil came, the pleasure ripping through him so strong that dark spots danced in his vision for several seconds. There were tingling sensations in his hands and feet as he slumped on the bed, drained from his release and for a moment lost in a blissful haze, before he struggled to reach for Andrew. “Wait, you-“

“Hush,” he was told as Andrew slipped a slick hand around the back of his neck and pulled him upright a little more; chapped lips brushed against his forehead as Andrew slid his right hand into his boxer-briefs to jerk himself off while Neil ran gentle fingers along his friend’s back and shoulders.

They sat together on the bed for a minute or two after Andrew came, wrapped around each other and heads bent to rest on the other’s shoulders, until even Neil felt uncomfortable and in need of a shower. “You going to yell at me if I step out there without any clothes on?” He didn’t feel like putting something on when he was such a mess and the bathroom was so close.

“Let me make sure no one’s out there,” Andrew said as he pulled away with a grimace.

That was good enough for Neil; he went to grab something to wear for the night while Andrew went to check the hallway, and once he was given the sign that it was all right, hurried to the bathroom where they both washed off and got ready for bed.

They stayed up a little longer; Andrew fetched a clean duvet for the bed then had a cigarette while they talked about some papers they had to write for their classes (and Neil sent a text or two to Jean)

The next morning Andrew wrapped his arms around Neil whenever he stirred awake as if to keep him in bed (Neil didn’t have any plans to go for a morning job, not that Andrew needed to know that), so they both managed to get some sleep… at least for another hour or two. Neil found it odd that Andrew didn’t seem to want to talk about a specific pro team when they’d start recruiting soon, but maybe he had one in mind and it was one of the Baron’s rivals.

They went to bed at an earlier time than the night before, and Neil had a good night’s sleep with Andrew there beside him. He didn’t have to worry about anyone surprising him during the night, about anyone harming him with his friend there, and went back to sleep right away the one or two times he drifted awake.

There was on getting up to go running or off to practice in the morning - it was waking each other with tender kisses that soon gave way to more fervent ones, to hands roaming beneath worn t-shirts and then slipping into boxer-briefs to fan the growing pleasure and passion and- Neil realized that there weren’t many weeks left to the semester, that most of the remaining games were home games (which meant hours up in the East Tower) and then two weeks in New York City even if for some reason he didn’t spend too many weekends there lately.

_Lately._

Less than two years and he’d live there, would share the apartment with Jean and wouldn’t have any excuse to stay away from Ichirou.

So he cherished the time he had with Andrew, even if it left him with a large pile of dirty laundry; his friend took one look at it after they returned from the bathroom, clicked his tongue and gestured for Neil to bring it along as he left the bedroom with an armload of his own dirty clothes.

There was a small utility room on the first floor which housed the washer and dryer, which they dumped their clothes into the former and started a load before they went into the kitchen to join the others for breakfast. It was much like the day before, only with some of the exuberance tamped down since Neil and the others would be leaving in a few hours to fly back to Edgar Allan and the rest to drive back to PSU.

Still, everyone did their best to enjoy the rest of their ‘holiday’, to laugh and joke around (not so much Andrew, obviously) and talk. Even the freshman, Robin, joined in; she’d been tentative at first despite being Meg’s roommate and all the conversations with Marley, but now talked without any hesitation. She even got Meg to agree to pass on the fighting lessons that Walker had taught her after watching Meg and Janna practice some self-defense moves.

“This was a good idea,” Neil told Andrew when they were back in the utility room folding their dry clothes so Neil could pack them in his bag for the flight home. “I wish… well, Stuart and Ichirou probably wouldn’t let me fly down here very often.” It made sense for him and Marley to hang out with Meg, an old year-mate, when they’d already been in the area for a game and Noguchi pushed the whole ‘Ravens need to take a holiday now and then to keep from breaking down’, but people would wonder if he took too many weekends off from training to fly down all of a sudden – not to mention him being so far away from the Nest.

Neil was surprised that no one had commented yet on Andrew flying to Edgar Allan so often, but supposed that people were used to the Foxes’ goalie doing whatever the hell he wanted.

Andrew shrugged as he shoved his stack of clothes into Neil’s arms in an obvious sign that Neil was to carry them upstairs. “There’s always next spring when we’ll play each other.”

“So certain that’ll happen, eh?” Neil laughed at the aggrieved look he received. “Meg’s rather determined that you guys’ll advance to the end again, isn’t she?” _He_ wasn’t sure if the Foxes would reach the finals, not when the Trojans had fnally adjusted to losing some of their best players in years, but they should at least get past the death rounds.

“Enough about Exy, tired of you chirping about the same old shit,” Andrew complained, so they talked about their plans for the upcoming holiday (Day was flying in from Houston to spend it with Andrew and his family at the team nurse’s house once again, while Jean and Matt would join Marley and Neil at Dan’s before they went off to New York City for a quick photo shoot).

By then it was almost time for Neil (and Marley, Bren and Janna) to leave for the airport, so they had a few minutes for a leisurely ‘goodbye’ kiss up in the bedroom before they returned to the living room, where they found Marley and Robin hugging each other and Nicky trying to get Bren’s phone number.

“Ah, thank you,” Neil told Andrew’s cousin. “It was a really fun weekend.”

Nicky’s dark eyes shimmered while he smiled and held out his arms, only to glance at Andrew and settle for a light pat to Neil’s left shoulder instead. “You’re welcome! Seriously, any time you wanna come here, you’re more than welcome. You’re part of the family now.”

“Enough, Nicky,” Andrew gritted out as he gave his cousin a narrow look.

Nicky waved it aside with ease. “You know how he is,” he mock-whispered to Neil. “I hope you have a good flight, and friend me back, okay? We need to talk to more!”

“No, you don’t,” Andrew insisted as he tugged Neil toward the door leading outside.

“Are you _sure_ you’re related?” Neil teased once they were outside. “I mean, he says things to me other than ‘I hate you’ and ‘chirp chirp’.”

“Shut up.”

“That too!” He laughed as he was shoved toward the steps. “Hmm, I’ll let you know about next week.”

“Yes, I’m looking forward to being alone with you in the middle of nowhere with a loaded gun,” Andrew drawled as he gave Neil a heated look.

If they weren’t standing outside… Neil stuck his tongue out and had to jump back to avoid being smacked in the face.

“See? It’s just sad, it is,” Bren complained as he, Janna and an unhappy-looking Marley finally joined them. “They think they’re being cute or something.”

“Actually, it is somewhat adorable,” Janna argued, and laughed at his loud sigh. “Come on, you were offering to clean my guns for me to sweeten me up, you’ve no room to talk.”

“But I like cleaning guns, it relaxes me,” Bren grumbled as he accepted the bag she was holding out to him.

That time it was Andrew who sighed. “Go away, all of you,” he demanded as he spun around to return to the house.

They loaded all of their bags into the back of the rented SUV then left for the airport, Marley busy sending texts while Neil argued with Bren about why he should have a gun of his own, and then Neil and Marley were all smiles for the few fans who recognized them while they waited to board the plane.

It had been a nice weekend, but Neil felt himself relax once back at the Nest (something he’d once considered impossible). He spent the afternoon working on class assignments, talking to Jean and Stuart and catching up with some of his teammates before joining them for dinner then getting in a short evening practice.

Marley was finally willing to talk when they were getting ready for bed. “So… not that I can believe I’m asking _you_ , the oblivious idiot this, but when did you _finally_ realize that you liked Andrew?” she asked as she flopped down on the end of his bed.

He held up his fingers in a rude gesture. “Fuck off.”

“Aw, come on, Shorty,” she said with a laugh. “Don’t hold back on me! Confess!”

“That you’re a bitch? You know that already.” He huffed when she rolled over and threw her arm across his legs. “Seriously, fuck off.”

“Hmm, you say that because you adore me.” She smiled when he rolled his eyes. “Now tell me everything.” When he huffed again, she squeezed his legs. “All right, just tell me how you knew, _finally_ , that you liked the monkey-fucker.”

“You really are a bitch,” he insisted as he tugged on a lock of her hair. “And… I guess it was when all I thought about was how I wanted to be doing things with him.” He felt his face warm up and ran his fingers through his own hair. “Uhm, you know. Somehow he made everything better.”

Marley gave him a sympathetic smile. “Yeah, I think I do. I still don’t… it’s weird because I don’t wanna do the things that my friends and sister said that you want to do with your boyfriends, I don’t want to have sex with Robin but being with her makes me happy.” She was quiet as she leaned a little more against Neil. “And she seems happy with me.”

“Does she want to have sex?” Neil asked; he liked what he and Andrew did together, liked the physical part of their relationship… but he was assured by the fact that if he felt the need to slow things down or put less of a focus on that part of their relationship that Andrew would respect it, would understand.

“Hmm?” Marley was quiet for a moment as if considering her answer before she spoke. “She says ‘no’, and I… this is all so new to her. The kids where she grew up knew about her and her past so no one was really interested in asking her out, and her parents were kind of overprotective. I guess I worry that she may decide that she does want something physical after a while.”

He gave her a reassuring smile while he stroked her hair. “You’ll have to figure out if it’s worth the risk. You can’t change you, but should you deny something with her because you’re uncertain what where you two stand? What if she is being honest?”

Marley groaned as she sat up. “You’re right, I know you’re right. There’s no guarantee that a person won’t figure these things out over time anyway – look at how long it took Crusty to accept poor Surfer boy! And even if she’s not Ace as well, it doesn’t mean we can’t work something out, right?”

“Exactly. It just means she’s really messed up to be interested in someone like you,” Neil teased, then laughed when Marley shoved him down onto the bed. “What?”

“I’ve spent how many years being here for you and Andrew and-“

“You’ve spent the last few years insulting Andrew and mocking me,” Neil clarified as he gave his friend a gentle kick off his bed. “Go away.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said,” Marley told him with a cocky grin. “You could be more supportive, you know.

“Go to bed and call her tomorrow,” Neil told her. “And bother Jean with this stuff. He deserves it.”

“Hmm, so true after all of his ‘Surfer boy’ panic calls. We don’t want him to feel unloved.”

It felt good to be back on the court in the morning, to have the Ravens all around him and focused on winning the game on Friday (even if they were assured first place for that part of the season already with the point spread); Neil still felt the pressure to give the team a ‘perfect’ season, to not lose any games, but the freshmen were doing well and the sophomores were living up to their promise.

He still put up with some ‘Nathaniel Wesninski’ shit out on the court and the occasional interview question, but it was better than what he (and the team) had suffered through the previous season. He realized that there probably would always be something to throw in his face – Riko, Tetsuji, the ‘Perfect’ Court, his father… people wanted something to try to tear him and the Ravens down, to look for a weakness to exploit. According to Jean, it didn’t get any better in the pros.

“ _We’re playing the Badgers tonight, which will be oh so unpleasant_ ,” Jean commented, his voice thick with derision. “ _Not only a waste of our time but them using the energy they should direct to playing on spewing childish insults and taunts, the buffoons_.”

“ _Tell me how you really feel_ ,” Neil encouraged his friend. “ _I’m not getting a clear picture here_.”

“ _You’re a waste of my time, too, you cheeky devil_.”

Neil laughed at that and hugged his knees a little tighter to his chest since it was cold, even up in the East Tower. “ _I feel so unloved right now_.”

“ _Go call your gargoyle, then_.” When Neil hummed at that, Jean clicked his tongue. “ _You said that things went well this past weekend. Will he come to Charleston again this week_?”

“ _I don’t know_ ,” Neil admitted. _“Ichirou should be here for the game on Friday, I’m waiting for Stuart to tell me if I’m to spend time at the mansion or not, or go to the city instead_.” He didn’t know how his uncle was freeing up so many of his weekends, but he couldn’t complain, not when it gave him time away from Ichirou and the man’s intent stares; he still received documents to translate from time to time so it wasn’t like he didn’t ‘help out’ in that regard anymore. “ _So you might be able to hang out with Jeremy_.”

“ _And trade a devil for a jester, lucky me_.” Yet Jean didn’t sound too upset about the opportunity; ever since the infamous kiss in San Francisco, the two of them had slowly been moving forward with their relationship. It was hampered somewhat by the fact that both traveled a lot with their respective teams and lived on opposite coasts, but Jean had come to accept the fact that yes, Jeremy Knox mattered to him and he didn’t want him gone from his life.

He just didn’t know how to go about a ‘real’ relationship and was extremely cautious about letting his guard down with someone who hadn’t lived in the Nest or suffered the things he had, but Neil had to give Knox credit in that the man didn’t push or cross any of the lines Jean defined for his own well-being.

In a way, Jean’s and Jeremy’s relationship was a mirror image of Neil’s and Andrew’s – they did so much ‘couple stuff’ but were inching their way along on the physical intimacy. Neil and Andrew were further along on the physical stuff, but were still trying to figure out… well, it was difficult. Neil knew he trusted Andrew, knew he wanted to be with Andrew, but _that_ was so new to him that he had no clue what to do most of the time (sadly, he was used to sex, just not sex with someone he _wanted)_.

“ _At least he should make you laugh_?” Neil suggested, and smile when there was a sigh of long sufferance on the other end of the line. “ _And speaking of suffering, Marley’s going to call you for relationship advice_.”

He sat there smiling and looking out over the brilliant autumn foliage of the trees in the far distance while his best friend ranted about British devils sent to torment poor souls.

*******

"Why do we have to go to stuck-up Edgar Allan?" Matheson whined for the fifth time. "They're just rubbing things in, holding the stupid banquet at their ugly stadium."

"Because it's their turn, now shut up," Wymack yelled at the striker.

Andrew twitched in his seat as a new round of complaints started and itched to grab the bottle of whiskey in his bag, but forced himself to keep reading; after another chapter he checked his phone to find that there was a new text from Neil, one going on about how Dan was driving the team crazy over her fussing about how the decorations were being set up around the court, and asked why hadn't he made Bren or Janna 'deal' with the assistant coach yet.

Neil responded that Janna was too amused, Bren too lazy, and Quentin too scared of Dan dammit.

At least Marley sent a picture of Neil all dressed up in black pants and a black and red cashmere sweater that clung to his upper body, his hair slicked back from his face save for a recalcitrant lock or two. Andrew stared at it for a moment or two before he saved it to his phone.

Robin crept toward the back of the bus when they were only about twenty miles or so away from Edgar Allan, a shy smile on her face and her phone in her hand. "Marley's posting a lot of pictures, isn't she?" she said, mindful not to stand too close to Andrew's seat. "It looks like the Ravens went all out for this banquet."

"They're the reigning champions, they've a point to prove." That and it was the first banquet that they'd hosted without Tetsuji and Riko, as well in the last several years. "At least it's not a ton of Christmas trees and poinsettias."

No, from what Andrew had seen on the team's Instagram account, Evermore's court was covered with what looked to be professional arrangements of Amaryllis, red and black roses, lilies, holly and chrysanthemums, along with artfully draped black and red streamers and banners. For a holiday theme, it was a bit on the gothic side (something Andrew would take much satisfaction in pointing out to a certain little bird), but a hell of a lot more bearable and elegant than what Andrew had suffered through in the past five Winter Banquets.

“Marley’s just happy they’re serving something other than baked chicken for once, and she said they got a bunch of pachinko and other games for people to play with the proceeds to go to some charities, much like what the Foxes had done the one year.”

Being the Ravens, there were actual prizes for the players and staff to win with their accumulated tickets (they’d have to spend some money for the games, but not too much) – all those endorsements companies and the such only too happy to pony up some nice items to auction off. Neil had told Andrew that they planned to donate the money to charities with dealt with suicide prevention and supporting victims of sexual assault; when Andrew had mentioned that to Renee in one of their rare phone calls, she’d been pleased have inspired that in some way.

It should be a ‘good’ banquet, one where the Ravens showed off their place as the top team in the district, as the home of the Court and some of the best players in Exy – and all Andrew cared about was that everyone in attendance should be too busy playing stupid games and trying to spike the punch to care if a little bird or two wandered away.

One of the benefits of holding the banquet at Castle Evermore was that a couple of teams were able to stay at the Nest and on campus rather than find lodging at a nearby hotel; the Ravens were staying in their weekday quarters but there were still plenty of rooms left beneath Evermore since it was such a large complex, and they’d emptied out the Ravens House to guests. A lottery system had been employed for the available rooms, and by _some_ chance (called ‘Dan Wilds’), the Foxes were one of the teams invited to stay at the Nest.

The Foxes finally arrived at Edgar Allan, right around the time that Matheson took whining yet again (and Andrew to contemplate ways for the striker to ‘accidentally’ fall out the emergency exit). The team was the third to arrive, which _might_ have had something to do with Andrew letting himself into Wymack’s apartment at 4am in the morning with a carrier of coffee from Starbucks and his phone blasting out his ‘road-trip’ playlist.

“All right, let’s go over things yet again,” Wymack said as he stood up at the front of the bus. “ _Behave_ yourselves. Keep your mouth shut – if you think it’s a good idea to say it, _don’t_.” That appeared directed at Matheson and Hurst. “You start a fight? I’ll sign you up for three marathons and you’re benched for at least that many games. We’re guests here so I don’t want any trouble.”

There was a ragged chorus of ‘yes, Coach’, some responses on the sullen side, before Wymack let everyone stand up and get off the bus. The Ravens weren’t a beloved team, not when they won all their games, not when they had the best stadium in the division, not when people seemed to forget what they’d endured under Tetsuji and Riko Moriyama. All assholes like Matheson and Hurst cared about was the row of expensive cars with the vanity plates that were part of the Ravens’ signing bonus, the fact that almost all Ravens went on to pro careers, that a guard was leading them into a stadium that gleamed as if brand new despite the fact that it was almost two decades old.

Dan met them inside and gave both Wymack and Abby a hug, followed by ones for Nicky and Katelyn, before leading them to the wing where they’d be staying rather than a locker room so they could change into their dress clothes. “Since you’re the smallest team, you’ll be in the Red Wing with the Ravens, but at the opposite end as them.” She gave the younger members of the team a stern look. “There’ll be a guard or two in the wing to make sure that there’s no trouble during the night, just like there’ll be some stationed at the Black Wing, too. It’s not that we don’t trust you guys, but our kids have been through a lot in the last year or two and they deserve to feel comfortable in their own home.”

A few of the Foxes appeared indignant over that (not surprising, considering their issues with authority and checkered pasts), but Wymack nodded. “Understandable. It’s not anything directed at us personally,” he told his team. “I’d do the same in Noguchi’s place – the team’s safety comes first.”

“Exactly, and this ensures that all the teams are safe in the end,” Dan agreed with a smile. “And here’s your rooms.” She motioned down the hall to the doors marked with orange stickers on them; for some reason she seemed to direct a knowing smirk Andrew’s way.

It surprised more than a few people on the team when Andrew and Robin headed into the same room together, probably because of Andrew willingly sharing a room with someone other than his cousin or brother, not so much that Robin was female.

They didn’t know that he intended to be in the room as little as possible, which was why they were quick to pick the one nearest the Raven section, with Meg and Kenny next to them, and Wymack and Abby across the hall with Aaron and Katelyn next to them.

Nicky was sharing a room with Hayes since both of them were in long-term relationships, so Andrew didn’t have to worry too much about his family that weekend. He dumped his overnight bag on one of the beds once in the room while Robin hurried into the bathroom to change, and only reached for his dress clothes when he heard the door close and lock.

When she was done, he went into the bathroom to finish up, and didn’t react when she gave him an approving smile other than to nod once. There were key cards on the one desk for the rooms (Noguchi had finally installed locks on all of the rooms in the past year and half since he’d taken over), one of which Andrew handed to Robin while he slid the other into his wallet before they left the room.

Wymack made them wait until everyone was gathered together to leave for court, the Foxes once again dressed in an assortment of colors and styles for the evening. Andrew was in his usual black, Aaron black pants but a dark maroon shirt that matched Katelyn’s dress, Nicky in grey slacks and fuchsia silk shirt while Robin wore a red dress with black accents that Meg had helped her pick out. Hurst sneered at the outfit, but White pushed the dealer aside and complimented the rookie goalie on the dress; she’d brought a date along that time, a nervous English major with chin-length hair whom White only had introduced at ‘Chris’ and who wore a large, pale green sweater with legging jeans and ankle boots with a bit of a heel, and smiled at White with evident happiness (any time Hurst or one of the others tried to sneer at White’s date, Nicky, Hayes and Meg shut them down quick, as well as White gave them one of ‘those’ looks which usually preceded her earning a red card out on court).

It was a bit of a walk to court from the residential section (one Andrew remembered from his stay with Neil), with some of the Foxes grumbling about the kitchen areas and lounge rooms and all the other amenities that they passed along the way (never mind that most of them would never be able to handle the long hours and intense practices that the Ravens dealt with under Noguchi, to say _nothing_ about what they’d suffered under Tetsuji). When they did step out onto court, Neil and the rest of the Ravens were waiting to greet the team.

The Ravens were dressed in black and red, as always, and Neil appeared even better in person. His pale eyes lit up when he caught sight of Andrew, though he quickly focused his attention on Meg. “What a shame, you made it,” he said with a lopsided smile.

Meg laughed as she reached out to give him a hug, her motions slow enough to not startle him. “You’re getting out of hand without Jean here, you know. Let me try to rein you in some – you’re a _terrible_ British devil.”

Beside Neil, Marley took to snickering as Neil hugged Meg in return. “And that’s an _awful_ French accent, he’s going to smack you when he sees you again,” he informed his friend. “I do miss him, but the Barons are having an incredible year so far.”

“I know! Makes me wish they didn’t have some wonderful dealers with several years left on their contracts, but I’m hoping to sign with a team closer to home as it is,” Meg admitted with a slight laugh as she stepped back and then reached out to hug Marley.

After the former partners greeted each other, Neil motioned for the team to follow him. “Hope you’re not too disappointed to find out that we’re seated together.” His smile faded for a moment as he gazed straight ahead. “Not in the mood to hear ‘Wesninski’ and ‘Butcher Jr.’ all night, and say _one_ word, Matheson, and you’ll become very well acquainted with our rubbage bins.”

“We’re big on recycling here,” Marley insisted. “Be a shame if you got mistaken for a stack of newspaper or something.”

Matheson muttered something beneath his breath, but as long as he couldn’t be understood, he could be ignored.

Neil and the Ravens left the Foxes at the table so they could greet the rest of the arriving teams; Andrew sat down while Nicky, Katelyn, Robin and a few others took pictures of the court. Nicky made a point to snap a few shots of Kevin’s banner and send it off to their friend (despite him finishing his career as a Fox, Noguchi and Dan had given him credit for his years as a Raven… and helped balance out the #1 banner in the darkest part of the court).

Matheson and Hurst did their best to mock the decorations and championship banners while the other teams arrived, but the truth was that the Ravens had earned those banners over the years and the court looked good. When even Arnolds snapped at the two to shut up, it drove home that they were being nothing but bitter assholes.

The last team finally arrived (Breckenridge, most likely to make a point), which meant that Neil and others joined the Foxes at the table before Noguchi stood up on the stage. He wasn’t the most personable judges as he was more on the reserved side, but he at least flashed everyone a smile possessing some warmth and nodded to them in greeting. “Welcome to Castle Evermore,” he said in a convincing tone. “I hope you enjoy your stay here, and I congratulate you on another season with all its joys and heartaches, one where I know you gave it your all. Since I’m certain that this is in part why you’re here, let me inform you of this year’s top four teams – Edgar Allan, Breckenridge, Palmetto State University, and Blackwell.”

There was a lot of murmuring upon hearing that Blackwell had edged out Belmonte at last, while Andrew could see some of the Foxes thinking about how they would have to deal with the Ravens in the first round of the playoffs. He caught a knowing smirk from Neil as Noguchi once again thanked everyone from coming to the banquet and wished them all a good night.

Dinner that evening was some sort of miso-glazed white fish with a spicy wheat noodle side and steamed vegetables, which Marley ate with relish and Neil enjoyed as well (there was a good bit of ribbing on the Ravens’ side of the table about a lack of kale and sending the freshmen off to fetch some for their captain). Neil appeared mostly relaxed, his eyes clear of shadows and posture lacking tension until someone walked past him, though Andrew knew the anxiety would start to build over winter break.

There was general talk about the Barons, the Peregrines and the Sirens during dinner (Andrew was resigned to enduring the boring topic of stickball at that point), which kept the snide remarks to a minimum if not the bickering. Once the meal was finished everyone got up from the table; Neil and Marley went to man one of the ticket tables for an hour, so Andrew bought some (and sent a picture of that off to Renee) and spent the time playing senseless, easy to beat games.

He won a bright red and white jacket which he gave to Nicky, who yelped in excitement over the ‘gift’ (Andrew would never wear such a hideous thing and refused to see it on Neil), then went off to fetch his little bird.

“So, a tour of Evermore?” Neil offered with a crafty smile as two other Ravens took over selling the tickets.

Andrew nodded while Nicky, Aaron, Katelyn and Robin all said ‘yes’; the plan was for the rest of them to go off with Marley for some sightseeing while Andrew went with Neil. Marley told her teammates that they were going to show off the stadium and would be back in a while, then the small group left the court.

Once they were in the black-painted hallways beneath Castle Evermore, the group split apart – Marley to show the others the various towers (and hit up Ichirou’s precious liquor supply), while Neil, Andrew and Bren headed to Neil’s room. “Have fun!” Marley called out while Nicky sniggered, which earned them rude gestures from Neil and Andrew.

“Ugh, I’m glad tonight’s going well but so glad we shouldn’t have to host another one of these things while I’m on the team,” Neil proclaimed once they were inside the room. “I can only imagine how much worse Dan was when it was the Foxes’ turn! It’s been a month of ‘we need to figure out what to do after the dinner’, ‘are the tablecloths the right color?’ and ‘what about the music?’.” He fell down on his bed and gave Andrew a harried look. “Do you think I’m someone who has _any idea_ about tablecloths and party music?”

“So you’re saying that Dan and Marley basically did everything.” Andrew huffed as he sat down next to his… his _boyfriend_ (damn Bee for pushing ‘accepting the importance of labels’ in their last few sessions).

“Yeah. And it turned out so much better because of it. You know I would have gone with us playing Exy in the parking lot again and mac & cheese for dinner.” He laughed at that as he reached out to give a slight tug to the front of Andrew’s shirt. “We’d be in the kitchen all day making it.”

“What’s this ‘we’ shit?” Despite his difficulty at times in accepting what all they were to each other… it always hit Andrew so hard, seeing Neil smile like that at him and hearing words like ‘we’ come from the young man’s mouth. “Yes?”

“Yes,” Neil told him right away, yet he bit into his bottom lip and there seemed to be some hesitation in him leaning forward to kiss Andrew, which made Andrew pull back instead. “What?”

“What’s wrong?” Was Neil already worried about the upcoming season? About leaving for New York and dealing with Ichirou for two weeks? “Did something happen?”

“I… no.” Neil sighed as he ran his right hand through his hair and continued to gnaw on his bottom lip, his gaze settling on the nightstand by his bed for a moment before he looked up at Andrew. “I… I want to do something tonight if it’s all right with you.”

“Okay.” That was better than something being wrong; Andrew cupped Neil’s face between his hands and used his thumb to gently coax the abused lower lip out from between Neil’s teeth before he broke the skin. “What is it?” Did Neil want to finger Andrew or something else? They’d been steadily progressing forward the last couple of months.

“Ah… I want you to fuck me,” Neil mumbled as his face grew heated between Andrew’s palms, yet he didn’t look away from Andrew’s gaze. “ _Here_.”

It took a couple of seconds for those words to sink in to Andrew’s brain, to realize that Neil wanted to have penetrative sex that night, in _this_ room. Andrew couldn’t deny that he’d been imagining it himself, that he’d wondered what it would be like while he fingered Neil or lay in his bed or- he thought _about it_. He got off to the thought of it. He’d even considered bringing it up over holiday break when he, Aaron and Nicky were going to spend New Year’s Eve in New York City and he met up with Neil for a night or two.

He just hadn’t thought that Neil would mention it first or _here_.

“Why?” he asked, wanting to be certain that Neil wasn’t pushing, wanting to know what had brought about the request.

He wanted to know why Neil asked that their first time to be in the _Nest_ , of all places.

Neil seemed to understand because he sighed as he wrapped his hands loosely around Andrew’s wrists. “Because… because I’ve been thinking about it, you and me,” he admitted. “I _want_ to do it with you, and if _you_ want to do it with me… then let’s do it here.” The darkness flared in his eyes for several heartbeats as his fingers twitched around Andrew’s wrists. “I want to be able to lie in this bed and think about you and me instead of… of….” His breath hitched and he closed his eyes as his lips pressed together as if to keep back something terrible.

He wanted a memory of something good to replace all of the pain and humiliation and degradation that Riko had forced upon him, that first year.

“Hey,” Andrew whispered as his right hand slid back to cup Neil’s nape, and repeated the word until his boyfriend looked at him. “Do you really want us to do it?” Neil gave a slight nod. “This isn’t just trying to erase a nightmare or two?” Not that Andrew couldn’t understand the desire for that, but he refused to allow Neil to rush things, to force them _both_ to rush things and ruin all the careful steps they’d taken so far.

“Yes,” Neil said, his voice quiet yet firm. “I want you, I want to do this with you. If you don’t want to do it here or now then I understand.”

By way of answer, Andrew pulled him forward for a kiss that didn’t do Neil’s battered bottom lip any favors, not that the idiot seemed to mind.

They took more care with their clothes than usual, considering that they had to put them back on (too) soon enough and rejoin the others on court, that and something about the moment didn’t call for casual fumbling about. “You do have the stuff we need, right?” Andrew asked after he settled back on the bed, stripped of everything but his boxer-briefs and armbands.

“Yeah.” Neil took to blushing again, his eyes downcast as he fumbled in the drawer of his nightstand for a plain black plastic bag – the embarrassment and clumsiness was unusual for him, at least at that stage of their relationship. “Ah, this… this is good?”

Andrew gave him a searching look. “What’s wrong this time?”

Neil groaned as he dropped the bag on the bed near Andrew’s left knee. “I don’t… I never had to… and I couldn’t go out to… so I… IaskedDantogetthestuff,” he said in a rush.

“Okay.” Then that jumble of words made sense, as did Dan’s smirk from earlier. “ _Dan_? _Really_?” Andrew asked as he gave Neil a disappointed look.

“Well, Bren probably would have told my uncle and I haven’t seen Jean in two weeks and… yeah,” Neil groaned. “She asked about lubes and sizes and I didn’t know anything about that so she said something about asking Katelyn and I just… I _hate_ my life,” Neil finished as he rubbed at his face.

Andrew hated Neil’s life, too, though he was surprised that Katelyn hadn’t let on anything to him – no smirks, no innuendo, no jokes. Instead of tormenting his little bird over the whole mess (he had a feeling that Dan and Marley had done it enough), he emptied the bag’s contents onto the bed and was mollified enough to know that yes, Dan had at least gotten a good brand of lube and the right size of condoms (and he wasn’t going to think any more on that matter).

He opened the box of condoms and pulled one out to leave on the bed, then set the rest on the nightstand before he unsealed the lube while Neil watched on with interest, his embarrassment slowly fading. “Still ‘yes’?” Andrew asked once his preparations were finished.

“Yes,” Neil assured him, and smiled as Andrew chased him down on the bed with another kiss.

“Hands above my waist,” Andrew murmured against his boyfriend’s lips as his own hands stroked along Neil’s sides. “And tell me to stop if it’s too much.”

“Okay,” Neil agreed. “You can, too – stop if it’s too much.” He gazed up at Andrew with passion-dark eyes as Andrew knelt between his thighs. “You don’t have to-“

“You talk too much,” Andrew chided as he leaned down to press a kiss against Neil’s neck. “Always chirping,” he added a moment later.

“Hmm, but you tell me to chirp,” Neil pointed out, then laughed when Andrew sucked harder on his neck. He gasped when Andrew gave his nipples a gentle pinch then murmured Andrew’s name as his sides were stroked and kisses were peppered around his collarbones.

Andrew knew in theory what to do; he’d done some research and knew well enough what _not_ to do (he wasn’t going to think _why_ just then). He watched Neil intently as he gently worked him open, careful for any signs of discomfort or anxiety, of any triggers being set off or demons unleashed. Yet Neil gazed back at him with eyes heavy-lidded with pleasure and desire, face flushed with those same emotions as his lithe body twitched about on the bed, as he gasped and moaned.

“Ah… Drew!” A particular curl of Andrew’s fingers made Neil arch his back and reach for his hard cock, only for Andrew to bat his hand aside.

“You said you wanted me to fuck you,” Andrew told him, his voice even and possessing a bored note despite the fact that he _ached_ so much for Neil, to touch him and kiss him and thrust inside him. “Well, I want you to come as I’m fucking you. That’s only fair, yes?”

Neil made a needy, whining sound and managed a curt nod.

“So nice that we’re both in agreement.” Andrew curled his fingers again then spread them apart, something inside of his chest clenching at the way Neil choked out his name while tossing back his head, before he decided that his boyfriend was ready (that he couldn’t hold back much longer). Neil whined again as he slipped his fingers free, a furious expression overcoming that gorgeous face for a moment until he realized that Andrew was reaching for the condom.

“Oh _hell_ yes,” Neil breathed out as he lay back down on the bed and hooked his ankles around Andrew’s thighs. “About damn time.”

All right then, Andrew would take that as a ‘yes’.

He fumbled with the condom a little since he wasn’t used to such things (and his hands may have trembled a bit), then settled back between Neil’s thighs and slowly began to push inside. Neil gazed up at him as he let out a slow breath, his hands sliding along Andrew’s biceps then up to his shoulders as Andrew leaned forward and rested his left elbow on the bed. “It’s okay,” Neil assured him in a quiet voice.

It was and it wasn’t – Andrew had never felt anything like it before, anything so intense and wonderful and powerful. He drew in a shuddering breath as he pushed past the initial tightness and almost groaned when he continued to sink into such enveloping warmth, as pleasure pooled molten and churning inside of him with each thrust.

Neil leaned up to mouth at his lower neck, that pleasure spiking even higher with each brush of his lover’s lips against his skin; he found his hips moving faster in response, his hand sliding along Neil’s cock to stroke it back to full hardness as his boyfriend moaned against his skin, arms wrapped firmly around his shoulders and legs around his hips as if to keep him even _thinking_ about pulling away.

 _Thinking_ … ha.

All that he could _think_ about then was how good he felt and Neil, on ensuring that those eyes continued to gaze back at him with trust and something that took his breath away as much as the pleasure burning through him with each touch, each motion. He struggled to fight against that pleasure, to hold on a little longer as Neil undulated beneath him, fingertips sunk into his shoulders hard enough to bruise, as Neil’s body clenched even tighter around him.

“Ah-ah… Drew!” Neil arched sharply against Andrew as he came, as warmth splashed over Andrew’s fingers and his eyes fluttered shut; the pleasure roiling inside of Andrew finally spiking too high for him to hold back, to beat down so he had no choice but to succumb to it with a faint snarl that he buried in the crook of Neil’s neck.

They both lay still afterwards, Neil uncomplaining about Andrew’s weight as he recovered from _feeling_ so much, as his breathing evened out and nerves stopped tingling from overload. “Ah… thank you,” Neil whispered as if afraid that speaking aloud would be too presumptuous. “That was… that was amazing.”

Andrew managed a faint scoff as he pushed up then rocked back on his heels, both of them wincing a little as he slid free. “A bit much?”

“No, not at all.” Neil was a little louder that time as he sat up without any sign of pain. “It… I think I get it now.” His expression turned a bit melancholic as he reached out slowly to splay his fingers over Andrew’s sweaty chest. “It really does matter, doing it with someone… well, you know.” The damn blush was back on his cheek yet he met Andrew’s gaze and held it.

It mattered to Neil, that much was certain… and it mattered to Andrew, dammit. They’d be a hell of a lot less broken and fucked up if it mattered to more people, wouldn’t they? As always, though, they couldn’t change the past, they could only deal with the damage and move on, could strive for some sort of future where the nightmares and demons had less power over them.

Andrew was the first to look away as he slid off the condom then clicked his tongue. “Which is Marley’s garbage can?”

That made Neil laugh and lean against his right shoulder (which ached a bit from Neil’s fingers digging in, not that he was going to point that out). “By her bed, you’re not going to… yeah.” He laughed some more when Andrew, after tying a knot at the top, threw the thing in her can (he wasn’t a complete asshole) then stood up, grabbed his underwear which he’d kicked off the bed, and motioned for Neil to follow him into the bathroom.

There was a slight hitch to Neil’s gait for the first step or two but he kept smiling so Andrew didn’t think he’d messed up anything, especially when he was pulled in for an exuberant kiss once they were in the shower. Since they had to regroup with the others, the kiss didn’t last very long in favor of them cleaning up and putting back on their dress clothes (and Neil some make-up for the hickeys Andrew had left on his neck – Neil had at least left the ones on Andrew’s low enough that his collar hid them).

Bren gave them a good once-over as soon as they stepped outside the room then grunted. “Well, you don’t look _too_ fucked-out, which is nice.”

“I don’t… I _really_ hate my life,” Neil groaned as he rubbed at his eyes. “Also, I’m telling Janna what you just said.”

“What?” Bren went for an innocent expression while making sure to stay out of both Neil’s and Andrew’s reach. “You’re the two who couldn’t wait until later tonight when you had more time and I don’t have to stand right next to your door.”

Neil took to swearing in a mix of what sounded to be Russian and Chinese, which made Bren wince. “Shoulda kept quiet, yeah?” he asked Andrew, who gave him an impassive look back while fingering the left cuff of his black dress shirt. “I need a fucking drink.”

Him and Andrew both, Andrew thought as he reached out to place his right hand on the back of a decidedly agitated Neil’s neck.

At least a certain little bird unruffled his feathers by the time they met back up with everyone; Andrew gave Katelyn a pointed look which at first she returned with confusion and then a slow, happy smile while Aaron looked on with growing anger until she patted him on the shoulder and told him it was fine. Andrew fell back a few steps and she did the same. “You didn’t say anything,” he said to her. Or given him loaded looks or done a bunch of other things to antagonize him or even sicced _Nicky_ on him. Done anything to make his life miserable, which she easily could have done with that bit of information.

“No.” When he arched an eyebrow at that, her smile took on a pleased edge as if she delighted in surprising him. “It’s between you and Neil, was something private and important. Would you have said anything if our positions were reversed?”

He had to think about that for a moment and eventually shook his head; if it had been before his new deal with Aaron then he would have done whatever he could to interfere, but now? No, it was Aaron’s business and as long as Katelyn honored that whole ‘don’t hurt my brother or I’ll break you into tiny pieces’ agreement that they had… Andrew would just be thankful that the two of them were smart enough to not risk a pregnancy or anything else.

“Exactly,” Katelyn said as she tugged on the fox charm necklace which Aaron had given her as a present. “Though I’m happy for you, to be honest. You and Neil.”

And he’d reached his limit of ‘personal’ talk with the cheerleader; still, all he did was click his tongue as he walked away, back to Neil’s side, where his _boyfriend_ was listening to Robin gush about how impressive Castle Evermore was while Nicky seemed a little worse for wear (probably that potent whiskey Neil went on about during their calls).

Neil smiled at Andrew (of _course_ he did), which made his heart race in a disgusting manner. He told himself that he would be spending the night in Neil’s room (hopefully with some of those demons exorcised), that he’d be seeing him in less than two weeks, that there was no reason for it to be beating so hard and so fast… but logic was a useless thing when it came to a certain little bird.

Andrew shouldn’t be so accepting of that fact, but it seemed he was at a loss when it came to Neil Josten. If he didn’t know that Neil was just as affected by him, he’d have walked away (or done his best) years ago.

Yet he continued to walk beside his _boyfriend_ while Neil kept sneaking glances at him until he shoved his hand in the idiot’s face to make him look aside.

Dammit, Neil’s laughter shouldn’t make his heart race like that.

*******

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmm, I probably would have gotten it posted earlier if I wasn't so insistent on getting those two scenes done (Columbia and the Winter banquet). Which takes us through the first semester of year four! We're getting there!!!  
> But hmm, the boys in New York City for the next chapter. Wonder how that's going to go....  
> Still have to answer comments? I will get to them! Schedule is all out of whack the next two weeks (international travel coming up) so really, no idea of posting), plus need to finish the big bang fic, but I really want to finish this at some point!
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are appreciated!


	28. Paper Mache Planes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter? OMFG it seems so long ago (it's been almost four weeks?) - quick summary? Neil (and Marley and Bren and Janna) spend Halloween in Columbia after the October game, and Andrew makes Neil dress up as an 'emo' goth as part of their bargain/for the holiday. Yeah.... Oh, and Marley and Robin seem to start dating. It was a good weekend. The boys continue to grow closer, and the Ravens hold the Winter banquet where the Foxes stay at the Nest. Andrew stays with Neil that weekend, and again, they deepen their relationship with each other. Things seem to go well with each other, they work through things (move forward on a physical front as well as emotional). What can go wrong?  
> *******  
> I need to go back and edit the chapter at some point, fair warning, I know it's a bit rough.
> 
> This chapter! It's better edited (or so I hope!) - many thanks to fall-for-the-game for the beta! Hmm, casual reference to past things but don't think there's anything new here? Seriously, if there's something I need to tag, let me know. A bit of dark!Neil though.  
> ******

*******

Neil smiled at Jean in gratitude as his friend handed him a mug of black tea before settling next to him on the couch; he was dressed in Andrew’s sweatshirt and a pair of comfortable sweatpants while Jean wore a Sea Lions jersey of all things.

A Sea Lions jersey bearing Jeremy Knox’s number.

“ _Things are going well with the jester, I take it_?” he teased before he blew on the tea.

Jean gave him a haughty look for all of three seconds before sighing. “ _I don’t want to hear from someone who barely wears his own clothes_.”

“ _Yes, but that’s **me** , not you_,” Neil argued. “ _And here you are, wearing a number other than ‘3’_.” Knox had been given ‘11’ by San Francisco, and it was a bit odd to see Jean wear something other than his own number.

“ _It’s comfortable and I’m behind on my laundry_ ,” Jean stated as he deliberately avoided Neil’s gaze while he picked up his mug of coffee. “ _It’s been very busy leading up to the winter break, and on top of that I had to get things ready for an ungrateful devil coming to visit_.”

“Hmm.” Neil sipped the tea then smiled. “ _It’s nice to get away from the Nest for a couple of weeks_.” He just hoped that he could spend some time at the apartment with Jean instead of being busy with interviews and photo shoots and work for Ichirou.

Especially since Andrew would be in town for the end of the year with Aaron and Nicky, the three of them spending the holiday together before they went their separate ways – Nicky to Germany, Aaron to Chicago for medical school and Andrew to whatever team signed him in another month or two.

Neil still didn’t know what his… what team Andrew would pick if given a chance and he found himself growing anxious over the matter. The distance between Edgar Allan and PSU was difficult enough at times, the possibility of not seeing each other for a few weeks because of away games and Ichirou, that he didn’t want to think of how it could be with Andrew on the other side of the country in a few months. Of them on opposite teams and different divisions, struggling to match up free days while flying all over the place (while dealing with Neil’s obligations on top of everything).

“ _What’s wrong_?”

He started at the question and nearly spilled his tea, and only calmed down when he took in Jean’s concerned expression. “ _I… it’s going to be difficult, making things work with Andrew once he joins the pros. How do you manage things with Jeremy_?”

“Ah.” Jean reached out to tuck aside a strand of Neil’s hair, the touch tender. “ _He is… very insistent. There’s a lot of calls, a lot of videos, and if I’m not here with you then we try to meet up_.” He regarded Neil for a moment with obvious concern. “ _But all I need to worry about is winning and going where they tell me to go, unlike you_.”

He wasn’t doubly tied to Ichirou, in other words. “ _It’s… not quite as bad, lately_ ,” Neil tried to argue. “ _But I can’t count on having an open schedule_.” Not when he had to drop everything and ‘obey’ if Ichirou beckoned.

That would make planning things too far in advance a bit difficult.

It was quiet while they sipped their drinks; despite Neil’s apprehension over the future, he found himself relaxing the longer he sat on the comfortable couch next to Jean. As wonderful as it had been to spend time with Andrew over the past weekend, there still had been some stress involved because of the Ravens hosting the Winter banquet and finishing up the semester.

Now for two weeks of no Exy practice, which meant that while he wouldn’t be able to unwind on a court he could sleep in at least. Though with Jean being a Baron and Ichirou part owner of the team, Neil thought that he might be able to finagle some time out on the court if he really wanted to practice a little.

They had Thai take-away for dinner and watched a French movie before going to bed, and got up to jog in the Park the following morning. After showers and breakfast, they went out to grab some groceries from the store down the block since Jean was on break and they needed enough food for the two of them (and any visiting bodyguards). Neil had the day to himself and tickets for them to see a Broadway show (set somewhat in prison, Jean told him not to get any ideas), a bit of a reprieve before he (and Jean) would be busy with marketing campaigns and interviews before the holidays.

Neil and Jean had invited Declan, Bren and Janna over for Christmas Eve, so when the day came about they did their usual morning run in the Park then went to pick up a few items from the grocery store. They spent the day making appetizers and a simple yet hearty meal of a cassoulet with salad and fresh bread they’d bought, along with plenty of wine, and somehow it all turned out fine. At the least, their friends ate everything and appeared happy through the evening, with Bren going on about losing a bet about not needing his stomach pumped and Declan stating that the two of them had a back-up plan if the sport thing fell through.

Neil gave Janna a quick hug for smacking both men over their ‘horrid’ manners.

On Christmas day they slept in (Jean insisted), and after they made breakfast together, exchanged presents; Neil brought along ones from Marley, Meg and Dan for the two of them, and they each had one that they’d bought for the other. It still was a bit of a new thing, the gift exchange, but they were trying for some sort of normalcy, for some sort of tradition, especially since Jean was out in the ‘real’ world.

Perhaps they’d even get a tree and decorate next year, but for the current one they had their dinner with friends and breakfast together and sat surrounded by tissue paper and ribbons as Jean glared at the stack of relationship books that Marley and Meg had given him (and one on obedience training for dogs), and Neil sighed over his new outfits similar to what he’d worn to the club (except not all black).

At least Jean had given him a nice set of charcoal pencils and a sketchpad which he could put to good use while traveling, and seemed to appreciate the large artbook on French Romantic artists that Neil had gotten for him.

After they cleaned up the mess and sent a couple of ‘wtf’ texts to their friends, they enjoyed the rest of the day by watching some musicals on Netflix and eating leftovers. There were calls from Andrew and Jeremy, Marley and Meg and Stuart – Neil was tempted to put his phone on ‘silent’ but knew that his friends would be upset if he did that, and soon enough the holiday was over.

It was a far cry from all the years on the run, from his youth in Baltimore. From it being a day that would just be ignored if it was acknowledged at all, an inconvenience in his ongoing struggle to survive. He still didn’t think it was that important, but it deserved a little effort because it mattered to people who mattered to him.

Things were back to ‘normal’ on the 26th; Bren took him to sit in on an interview and then to be photographed for Nike before he went to Ichirou’s office to do some translations. It was Brine racquets the next day and then some restaurant for a private event before he spent the rest of the night with Jean at the ballet.

It was more interviews the next day, to the point that he was almost grateful to leave for Ichirou’s office so he could get away from people asking him questions about Exy and the Ravens and his plans for the future (as if he had any say in them). Expecting to translate for the next few hours (and deal with Ichirou’s intent stares and cryptic comments), Neil was surprised to find Stuart waiting for him in the one room where he usually worked – his uncle and a young woman a couple of years older than himself who was vaguely familiar.

She had chin-length blonde hair, pale grey eyes and about two inches of height on him, so Neil assumed that she was a Hatford, but she didn’t resemble his mother or Stuart too much. Then she smiled and he recalled a young girl almost a teenager back in London over ten years ago, a young girl who’d done her best to lure him away from his mother so he’d spend time with her and her brothers (well, with Henry when his older cousin had been around).

“Jamie?”

Jamie – Jamilyn Mary Hatford, though Neil could still recall the black eye she’d calmly given Ally (Alistair) when her younger brother had dared to call her by her full name – smiled as she approached. “Still my little cousin,” she commented as she eyed him up and down and called him by the nickname that she and Henry had come up with since they’d both been older and yes, _taller_. “I understand you go by Neil now.” She hesitated for a moment before she slowly reached out to give him a tentative hug. “You look good.”

“I’m not _that_ little,” he complained as he gingerly returned the embrace. “And yes.” He gave her a grateful smile when they stepped apart. “Uhm, you look good, too.”

“Thanks.” She laughed a little as she patted him on the left shoulder. “You’re still shorter than me, which is a relief after watching even Ally shoot up past me, the unbearable git.”

“So what, you came all the way here to find someone shorter than you to torment?”

Stuart chuckled at that while Jamie fixed Neil with a narrow look for a moment then grinned. “Not quite, but it’s a bonus of sorts,” she said. “The official reason is I’m here to help out Uncle Stuart and learn a few things since Henry’s doing a bang-up job in London with Dad.”

“Will decided that it was a good idea for Jamie to gain some experience and there’s more than enough work to keep her busy,” Stuart added, all traces of humor gone from his demeanor. For a moment Neil thought he picked up a sense of exhaustion, of bleakness, and then Stuart was reaching for his cigarettes.

Jamie filled Neil in on the ‘family’ back in London over the next few minutes – Will and Miriam doing well, Henry such a disgusting perfect eldest child that it would be sickening if he wasn’t also an all-around ‘nice’ guy (for a Hatford), and Ally basically the opposite. She was telling him about his youngest cousin’s latest misadventure when Ichirou arrived, which put an end to all amusing stories.

Neil didn’t think it was his imagination that his ‘lord’ was a bit cool to Stuart for some reason, and noticed how Davis hovered near his uncle in a protective manner for the rest of the evening.

“Is everything all right?” Neil asked Bren while his friend drove him back to the apartment. “Things seemed tense tonight.”

Bren was quiet for about a minute before he answered. “It’s all right, mostly. Stuart’s just making sure that things are done properly.”

That didn’t seem like much of an answer, but it apparently was the only one Neil was going to get as Bren didn’t say anything more than that.

He spent more time with Jamie on the 29th as he worked on some documents, at least when he wasn’t at Ichirou’s side to translate Russian into Japanese and English until his head ached and his voice grew raspy. The worst part of it all was being so close to Ichirou, was the occasional touch to the small of his back and left hip which would make Bren stiffen in anger and Neil want to lash out.

Ichirou wasn’t supposed to _touch_ him anymore… but Ichirou also still owned Neil. The touches never lasted more than a couple of seconds, never lingered or went too _far_ … but Neil would have stabbed anyone else for them.

He wished he knew what the hell Ichirou meant by them, if he forgot that Neil wasn’t ‘his’ anymore or….

He wished that Ichirou would keep his damn hands to himself.

Jamie brought him a glass of fruit-flavored water at the end of the night, her expression thoughtful. “And here I thought I was impressive because I can halfway carry a conversation in French and order a drink in Spanish. Dad always said that Aunt Mary had a way with languages.”

Neil sipped the cool water for a few seconds before he sighed in relief. “I never really thought much about it, it’s just something I do.” Something he had to do to stay alive, to be useful.

“You do it well, it seems.” Jamie’s gaze was assessing for several heartbeats. “Stuart tells me that you’ll be on your own tomorrow?”

“Yeah.” Ichirou had ‘family’ things to do before New Year’s Eve, some time to spend with his young son, and Neil wasn’t supposed to be worked too much over his holiday break so he didn’t have any interviews or endorsement deals lined up for once. “I’ve some plans with my friend and, uhm….”

“He’s got a hot date,” Bren said, the bastard. “His grumpy boyfriend’s in town.”

Neil’s heart pounded in his chest as he made sure that Ichirou wasn’t nearby to overhear that statement. “You… he’s… can I have Janna shoot you? She likes me enough that she’ll do it.”

Bren grinned while he tousled Neil’s hair. “Aw, you’re so adorable when you’re missing Andrew.” He jerked his hand back in time to avoid being stabbed.

“I’m going to get a bigger knife and stab you myself,” Neil gritted out as he glared at his friend.

“Yeah, he’s a Hatford,” Jamie said with a slight smile. “And I’d like to meet this Andrew myself one day, after hearing Stuart talk about him.”

Neil frowned at that statement, confused over how his uncle would know his… oh hell, his _boyfriend_ well enough to tell stories about him. “Uhm.”

Jamie seemed to take pity on him because she smiled and shook her head. “Not any time soon, though, you’re busy enough and I’m not going anywhere. Enjoy your day off and we’ll see each other on New Year’s Eve.” She wished him and Bren a ‘good night’ before she went off with Stuart and Davis.

Bren saw Neil back to the apartment, where he was more than grateful to curl up in the large bed with Jean and get some rest. Despite the cold, they went for their usual jog together in the morning then cleaned the apartment (not that it needed much) after breakfast.

Andrew would be stopping by that evening for dinner while Jeremy took Jean out to dinner; Jean had managed to get out of Ichirou’s annual year end ‘party’ because of the celebration that the Barons were throwing, and Jeremy was only too willing to spend a few days in the city so he could attend as Jean’s ‘plus one’.

It was beyond Neil’s comprehension how no one had figured out that the two men were dating, considering how much they hung out together… then again, no one had picked up on how Andrew spent half his weekends in Charleston.

Jean helped Neil assemble the lasagna which would be dinner later then clean up the kitchen before they sat down to relax a little (a lot). “ _The rude gargoyle better appreciate your efforts_ ,” Jean grumbled as he held a mug of coffee between his hands.

“ _He does_ ,” Neil insisted. “ _He will. He normally cooks during our weekends together, which is why I wanted to do it tonight_.” Since Andrew was coming over to what was to be Neil’s home in the not too distant future.

“Hmph.” Jean seemed to think about something as he drank some of his precious coffee. “ _The two of you… at one point I would have thought there’d only be bloodshed if you were alone together. Now you’re dating_.” A slight smile hovered on his lips when Neil grimaced at the ‘d’ word. “ _It boggles the mind, a devil and a gargoyle together like that, but I suppose no one else will have the two of you_.”

“ _Thank you so much_ ,” Neil said, his voice thick with sarcasm.

“ _You’re so welcome_.” Jean’s smile slipped as he gazed into his mug. “ _I suppose… well, how do you do it_?” he asked with obvious hesitation. “ _After… after Riko and Ichirou_?”

At first Neil wasn’t certain where his friend was going with the questions, but hearing _those_ names cleared up any doubts. “Oh.” He gazed into his own mug of tea for several seconds before he sighed and gave a slight shrug. “ _Because we trust each other_?” When Jean scoffed at that, the sound faint but heartfelt, Neil shook his head. “ _No, it’s true, it is. If anything, it took some effort to get Andrew to accept that it was all right, what we were doing, that I wasn’t just, uhm, going along with things_.” He could feel his cheeks heat up from embarrassment and had some tea. “ _We kept checking with each other and we took our time._ ”

“ _Trust_.” Jean let out a slow breath as he set his empty mug aside. “ _I know Jeremy won’t hurt me, that he’s a good man. It’s just_ …” He let out another slow breath and shook his head.

“ _Do you want him_?” Neil dared to ask as he cradled the mug against his chest. “ _Ah, you know, like **that**_?”

Jean was quiet for almost a minute before he nodded. “ _Yes_.”

“ _Then maybe tell him what you’re willing to do? With Andrew and me, we set limits – not below the hips or beneath clothes and so forth if we don’t want too much at that moment_ ,” Neil suggested. _“I’m sure he’ll be fine with that_.” And if not? Well, Declan would be all too willing to deal with the young man or let Neil know to arrange something.

Jean was quiet again for a slight stretch before he clicked his tongue. “ _If a devil like you can do it, so can I_.”

“ _Whatever_ ,” Neil sneered, aware of how that would affect his friend. “ _Have fun spending the night with an over-eager puppy_. _Make him sit up and give you a paw_.”

“ _While you waste good food on a rude gargoyle_ ,” Jean shot back, no longer nervous or uncertain but in full ‘haughty’ mode. “ _No one ever claimed that you British oafs have good taste_.”

That led to them trading insults for a good half an hour or so, until Neil got up to brew another mug of tea and Jean went to soak in the tub. Neil thought that was a good idea and went into his own bathroom to relax for a while before Andrew would arrive.

It hadn’t been a bad holiday break so far (not when he got to spend time with Jean) – the part with Ichirou aside - but now that Andrew was going to be there? Neil smiled as he sunk down in the tub filled with hot water, anxious from excitement over seeing his… his _boyfriend_ again after several days. At being alone with him, at being able to relax and enjoy some time together.

Everything would be better when Andrew arrived.

*******

“Wow, it’s… it’s a big stadium,” Nicky remarked in a quiet voice as they glanced out onto the empty court of the Barons’ stadium, at the sea of blue and gold seats, of the gleaming wooden floor bearing the team’s logo and the huge media screens on either end to display the game and scores.

Nicky and Aaron had insisted on accompanying Andrew during his little ‘visit’ to the stadium as he met with Thomas Radcliffe to sign his contract with the man’s team; only the fact that Ichirou Moriyama wasn’t supposed to be present kept him from locking them in their hotel suite downtown. That and if anyone noticed him being near the stadium, he could say that the three of them were just checking it out while in town, that it was some stupid whim on Nicky’s part.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” Radcliffe stated, a smug grin on his face as he stood off to the side in an expensive cashmere coat over designer jeans. He appeared attractive and elegantly dressed and made Andrew’s skin crawl, was a weasel in fancy clothes wearing a false smile. Oh no, it was clear that he was Moriyama’s partner, was the ‘face’ of the Barons for a very good reason – he was just as much of a corrupt bastard, only not from a (barely known) criminal family. “It’s been voted one of the best stadiums for the last five years.”

“Yeah, impressive,” Nicky said with a nervous smile while Andrew suspected that Aaron was about to hurt himself from holding in a smart remark or eye-roll. His family were on their ‘best’ behavior, considering that he was there to sign a long-term contract with the partner of a mobster he’d made a deal with to save a little bird.

“Impressive but cold.” Andrew turned around and motioned for them to step inside the fancy box room where Radcliffe had brought them after giving them a quick tour. Once inside, they were offered something to drink, but all Andrew cared about was signing the documents spread out on the one table, the documents where he basically gave away his freedom for the foreseeable future.

There would be a signing bonus when the news ‘broke’, sometime in mid-March. Come summer he would be expected to start participating in endorsement deals around the time he moved to New York so he could acclimate to the city before practice started in late July. Andrew noticed the side-glances that Nicky and Aaron were giving him as Radcliffe went over the contract, his cousin’s eyes widening when the salary was mentioned, but all Andrew did was grunt and reach for the pen as he flipped to the page which required his signature.

“Ichirou was right about you,” Radcliffe remarked once the damn thing was done. “The tough, quiet type who likes to think he’s doing things _his_ way. The fans will love you, once we tweak things a bit.”

Andrew almost ‘tweaked’ the bastard’s throat with the pen, but the broad-shouldered guy standing off to the side wasn’t _just_ a personal assistant and he was certain that there were more like him in the general vicinity. “Not until summer,” he reminded Radcliffe.

“Right.” The bastard grinned as he picked up the contract and folded it. “Try not to lose too much to the Ravens, put on a good show so the fans will be eager to see what happens when two former rivals end up on the same side of the court.” Again, Andrew refused to show any emotion at being given a ‘suggestion’. “Well, I’ve another meeting soon so feel free to stop by one of the gift stores and help yourselves, within reason.” Radcliffe waved the contract at Andrew before he left the room, though his ‘assistant’ remained behind to escort the three of them out of stadium (they skipped the gift shop). They passed a few people on their way to the parking lot, what looked to be support staff for the Barons and no one Andrew recognized.

They were quiet as they waited for their ride to pick them up and return them to the hotel; once there, Andrew checked the time to see how long he had before he went to Neil’s apartment. “Uhm, so, it looks like you’re gonna be our rich relative from now on?” Nicky teased in an anxious manner.

“He only gets sixty percent of it, remember,” Aaron pointed out in a snide tone as he plugged in his phone to recharge it.

“It’s _still_ a hell of a lot of money.”

“Yeah, because the more they pay him, the more they can take away.”

“Because he’s that good, you heard Kevin say that he’ll be Court in another year or two,” Nicky argued. “It’s just such a shame that the team’s owners are assholes.”

Truer words were rarely spoken. Andrew gave Nicky a slight salute as he stretched out on the couch and told himself he could wait another hour or so for a cigarette. “I’m not giving you money for stupid shit so don’t even bother to ask. In fact, I’m blocking you once we graduate.”

“Andrew! How could you be so mean to me?” Nicky wailed as he flapped his hands in the air. “ _Aaron_! Tell him not to be so mean!”

“What? I’m blocking you, too,” Aaron said without even looking up from his phone.

That led to Nicky carrying on about how awful the two of them were to him and how much he’d sacrificed for his family and a bunch of other shit which Andrew tuned out while he made sure that Bren would be there to pick him up in another half an hour. Then he went to shower and get ready for the evening, and when he stepped back into the main room of the ‘suite’ they were sharing, him on the couch while Nicky and Aaron slept in the bedroom, the other two were debating where they’d go for dinner and what to do for the rest of the night.

Andrew felt a pulse of concern over leaving them alone while he was with Neil for the night… but in a few more months Nicky would be back in Germany and Aaron would be on his own in Chicago (with Katelyn at least). Bee would tell him (had told him) that he had to learn to let them go, that they were two young men who could handle such things by themselves.

Aaron and Nicky settled on a restaurant and Rockefeller Center before it got too crowded with the holiday. Andrew made sure that their phones were charged and that they didn’t plan on getting trashed that night (they could the following evening when he’d be with them) before he left to go wait for Bren.

The bodyguard arrived while he was about halfway through his cigarette, behind the wheel of the usual expensive SUV. “Merry belated Christmas to you,” Bren called out in a cheerful voice.

Andrew gave him a flat look in return as he settled in the passenger seat and flicked the cigarette out the window rather than drop it to the floor. “How’s Neil?”

“All right, for the most part.” Bren rolled his eyes when Andrew gave him a narrow look for that response. “Been a bit busy but nothing too bad, Stuart bitched a little and was told that he’s the team’s captain, it’s expected that he steps up a bit more when it comes to the interviews and all.”

“But not enough to make him break down again,” Andrew said as he thought about tracking a certain insecure little prick down and dealing with an ongoing problem then and there – if only he had a plan where he didn’t have to worry about Ichirou’s bodyguards or any blowback on Neil and his family.

“No, or else Jean or I’d have called you,” Bren admitted. “Though I’m sure he could use a fun night right about now.” He waggled his thick brows a few times as he attempted what Andrew suspected was some sort of leer.

“Do that again and I’ll stab you,” Andrew promised as he ran his fingers over the cheap knife he’d picked up at one of the many stores near the hotel to ‘tide’ him over until he returned to South Carolina.

“Someone’s grumpy. Been too long since your Red fix, eh?”

Andrew made a show of checking his seat belt before reaching for the steering wheel, which prompted Bren to shout that he was kidding, _just kidding_!

It was quiet the rest of the drive to Neil’s ostentatious apartment; Andrew arched an eyebrow at the sight of one of the familiar Maserati parked in the underground garage. “Does Moreau actually drive it?” Unlike another little bird.

“Yeah, now and then,” Bren said as they headed to an elevator. “He’s been working on standing on his own so he’ll drive to the stadium while Declan follows, things like that.”

Nice to know that Moreau wasn’t sitting around twiddling his thumbs while waiting for Neil to join him.

They went damn near to the top of the building before they reached the floor which Neil lived on, and of course Bren let himself into the apartment. “Look what followed me home,” he called out as they entered.

Neil stepped toward the hallway leading to the door and smiled once he caught sight of Andrew. “Hi.”

Andrew nodded in greeting and held up the overnight bag he’d brought along in a silent question while Bren said something about being down the hall before he left. “Ah, yeah, you can put that in… uhm, my room,” Neil told Andrew while he motioned him forward. “Dinner won’t be ready for a while yet.”

“That’s okay.” The place looked… it didn’t look too bad, all in all. Expensive as hell but saved from appearing like something out of a photo shoot by odd little touches like a stack of almost garish pillows or the photo books on the large, square coffee table or colorful, mismatched prints on the wall.

There was also a scowling Frenchman sitting on the one plush couch. “A chaperone tonight?” Andrew asked, “how unpleasant.”

“I’m only here until Jeremy arrives,” Jean responded with a disproving sniff. “Which will hopefully be any moment now as this is already excruciating.”

“Really?” Neil glanced back and forth between his roommate and Andrew before he sighed. “Not even two minutes near each other and you’re fighting?”

“If we were fighting he’d be bleeding,” Andrew was kind enough to point out.

“I’d like to see you try, gargoyle-“

“Okay, the tour of the place can wait ‘til later!” Neil shouted as he latched onto Andrew’s bag and used it to pull him toward a set of doors along the far wall – to what ended up being his bedroom. Unlike the living room, Andrew could tell that Neil barely spent any time in the room since it did look like something out of a magazine spread or design floor – there was nothing personal in the room at all, nothing out of place with the plush fabric on the queen-sized bed or the sleek lines of the furniture or… nothing.

“Do you even sleep in here?” Andrew asked as he dropped his bag on the padded chair in the corner of the room.

Something akin to guilt flashed across Neil’s face for a moment. “Uhm… no?” When Andrew gave him a blank stare at that answer, he sighed and jerked his right hand through his hair; he was dressed in loose black cotton pants and a pale grey sweater which looked soft to the touch, something casual and different than the usual Edgar Allan sweats. “I’m usually with Jean when I’m here.”

“And how is that helping you to move on?” Andrew asked as he pushed aside a pulse of… it wasn’t jealousy because it wasn’t _that_ type of relationship, between the two young men. “You’ve been complaining for months on how difficult it is for you to sleep alone, yet whenever you’re here you’re sleeping with him again?”

“Look, I know-“ Neil’s lips pressed together as he shook his head, a rare anger burning bright in his eyes. “You don’t know what it was like, what we dealt with at-“

“No, I’ve just been dealing with its aftermath,” Andrew gritted out as he thought about the last several years, about all the phone calls, all the trips and weekends at the cabin, about the Winter banquet and the damn contract he’d signed that day. “I don’t know a _fucking_ thing, do I?”

Perhaps it was him swearing, or perhaps it was the unusual amount of heat he’d let slip at the end there, but Neil was quiet for several seconds as he gazed at Andrew, his arms wrapped around his chest as if he was cold. “I just… is it so bad to want that bit of comfort?” he asked in a soft voice when he spoke at last.

Part of Andrew wanted to remain silent, to turn around and leave because talking was rarely his friend, especially in times like this. Yet he forced himself to step forward, to reach out and brush his fingers along Neil’s left cheek when he received a slight nod. “No, but you can’t always be there for each other. You need to stand on your own and let him do the same.”

Neil grimaced even as he nodded. “I know, but it’s always so stressful when I’m here, when dealing with Ichirou and things.”

Andrew’s fingers slid into his boyfriend’s hair and tightened, not too much to be painful but enough to clench on the strands. “What about Ichirou? What did the little prick do?”

“Nothing,” Neil was quick to state as he reached out to settle the tips of his fingers on Andrew’s chest. “He’s just-“ He seemed to fumble for what to say as he nibbled on his bottom lip. “Uhm, making sure I know that he still owns me? That others know that, too?” Something must have shown on Andrew’s face because Neil shook his head. “He’s not _doing_ anything to me, it’s just a hand on my back and a look and… _oh hell_.” His shoulders slumped as he rubbed at his face. “Can we not talk about this? I don’t want to talk about this tonight.”

Fine, _they_ wouldn’t talk about it, but Andrew would have words with Bren soon enough, words which would get back to Stuart – especially since Andrew had held up _his_ end of the bargain. He didn’t know what Ichirou was doing (not quite the truth – the prick didn’t want to let Neil go), but there was a nice signed and witnessed agreement that he had to stay the fuck away that was going to be honored one way or another.

Andrew cupped his fingers around Neil’s skull and pulled him closer, pulled him in for a kiss he’d wanted ever since he’d seen his boyfriend. Neil was eager to respond, to nod and part his lips and slide his arms over Andrew’s shoulders, and what was meant to be a quick reassurance turned into something heated and demanding.

The immaculate bed grew messed up as they stretched out on it, Neil beneath Andrew as he slid his hands under the soft, grey sweater. “Uhm… dinner?” Neil asked as he arched beneath Andrew’s touch.

“Later, not hungry,” Andrew answered as he slid the shirt up. “You?”

“No.” Neil smiled at him and shifted so the sweater could be pulled off and thrown aside. “I’m fine right here.” He gave a slight tug to the front of Andrew’s black sweater and smiled even more when Andrew removed it as well.

“On the bed you never use.”

“Hmm, we could change that, you know.” Neil’s expression took on a wicked edge as he palmed Andrew’s pecs and shifted his legs farther apart, as he rocked his hips upward to rub their erections together. “Put it to use.”

Andrew gave him an intent look as his hands slid down to cup Neil’s firm ass, as he thought about that night back in the Nest. “You want to have sex.”

“ _Yes_.” Neil rolled his eyes a little even as he rocked his hips again. “Do you?”

_Did he_? Andrew had just replayed those two times in his head again and again while he’d laid in his bed back in Columbia, while he’d jerked off in the shower. Neil was a damn addiction, an intoxication in his blood which only grew stronger with the passage of time instead of weaker.

He clicked his tongue while he leaned down to nuzzle his boyfriend’s jaw. “Better than putting up with Moreau, I suppose.” While Neil laughed and called him an asshole, he forced himself to pull away and get off the bed; Neil leaned up on his elbows to watch as he went over to his bag and fetch a couple of things.

“Ah, yeah, good idea,” Neil said with a slight blush.

“I refuse to have Dan keep buying the stuff.” Andrew had a few ‘spares’ in his bag to send back with a certain idiot little bird rather than put up with more of Dan’s smug looks.

“I was going to get some before I went back,” Neil mumbled as he began pushing down his pants. “Just… been busy so far.”

“There’s such a thing as the internet,” Andrew reminded the idiot.

“And for that I need a credit card or some sort of online account,” Neil snapped with a good bit of heat. “Oh, and all my packages are searched by Bren or Janna.” He threw his clothes aside then let out a slow breath as Andrew sat down next to him on the bed. “It’s… it’s not terrible, the way things are, but….” His expression was closed off for a couple of seconds before he summoned up a tremulous smile and motioned for Andrew to come closer.

His life wasn’t ‘terrible’ in that he wasn’t being beaten by Tetsuji or carved up by Riko or his father, wasn’t being raped by Ichirou or someone else, but he was still Moriyama property and only had so much freedom. The foolish little bird was probably happy about playing Exy and spending time with Jean and a few other things, but he still had those jesses on him, still was a creature trained to return to a gloved wrist or _else_.

Andrew still had some work to do in the future, still had some ties to cut, some bones to break and throats to slit.

For now, though, he set the box of condoms and bottle of lube aside on the nightstand and settled back on the bed, allowed Neil to pull him over with gentle hands as he tugged down his own pants until he once more was nestled between long, muscled thighs. Taking Neil’s lead, he pushed all the darkness and pain aside to focus on the pleasure they felt with each other, the pleasure they could make each other feel with their kisses and touches, with the trust between them. He could let down his walls enough to allow Neil to reach out and caress him, to stroke along his chest and back and through his hair, to wrap those long legs around his hips, to give in to the desire and _need_ to watch Neil come apart as he was opened up and thrust into ( _oh fuck_ it felt even better than Andrew remembered how was that possible).

Neil shouldn’t trust him that much, shouldn’t… Andrew shouldn’t trust Neil that much… but they were both wrapped around each other so tightly as if to never let the other go, were sharing breaths as Andrew snapped his hips forward into tight heat while Neil arched up to meet him, fingers once more digging into his shoulders (soon he’d have permanent indents).

He didn’t understand how each time got better, how the pleasure coiled higher and more intense, how what should have been routine took on deeper meaning. It was just triggered nerve endings and endorphins and biological impulses, damnit. It shouldn’t _mean_ anything.

It was passion-blown blue eyes and raspy ‘Drew’s and such naked, exposed emotion that Andrew felt something painful constrict in his chest, felt the need to bury his face in the crook of Neil’s neck as ecstasy tore through him, felt the need to listen to their heartbeats slow down together as they lay slumped in exhaustion. Neil’s fingers combing through his hair was an oddly soothing sensation after such a tumultuous experience, was something that pieced together all the jangled pieces of a too-intense moment that part of him wanted to deny.

It was rather difficult to deny a quietly humming little bird he was lying upon, especially after what they’d just done together. Oh, he could give it a good try, there was no doubt, but it was too much effort and Bee would probably withhold the chocolate for too many future sessions if he did.

She was vicious like that.

Neil’s fingers trailed lightly over Andrew’s shoulders as he made a faint, pleased sound – and then his entire body tensed. “Shit! The lasagna!” he exclaimed as his eyes grew wide and he turned to look at the bedroom door.

Right, there’d been some mention of dinner, hadn’t there? Andrew pulled away with a slight wince and fumbled with the condom while Neil almost fell off the bed in his haste to leave the room, only to think twice and dash into the bathroom to wipe himself clean before he stumbled out to snatch his clothes from the floor, pull them on and then flee the room.

Andrew followed at a much less hectic pace, and found a blushing Neil talking to Jean and Jeremy Knox in a smoke-free kitchen. “-really appreciate it,” Neil said as he combed through his mussed hair.

Jean sniffed as he waved aside Neil’s apology while Jeremy grinned at Andrew. “Be thankful that _this_ one had plans to waste time before dinner gawking at stupid windows or other such nonsense, or else I would have let the food burn. As it is, I’m scarred for life.”

“Ah, come on, the sound didn’t carry that far,” Knox chided the French bastard.

Jean gave his quasi-boyfriend a highly displeased look down his straight nose (considering their height difference) which Knox somehow managed to ignore. “I am _traumatized_ , and another word on the topic will leave me unable to do anything tonight.”

Knox had the balls to at least roll his eyes at that statement while Neil, who’d gone to check the dish of lasagna sitting on top of some expensive looking oven, sighed. “You’re willing to stay here with Andrew and me? Really?”

That question made Jean straighten up and give the three of them an utterly disgusted look. “Good night,” he bade them, much in the same tone that one usually reserved for telling people to fuck off and die in an utterly painful manner.

There was no way to tell that Frenchie had spent three years as a certain mouthy idiot’s partner, was there?

While Jean stomped off to the front door, Knox gave Andrew a wide grin and a ‘thumb’s up’ sign. “You and Neil, huh? Good for you.”

Andrew was debating how upset Neil would be with him for getting blood all over the nice plush carpet when Jean called out ‘Jeremy, _heel_ ’, which made Knox go running like an obedient pet.

That dealt with for the time being, Andrew went into the kitchen and was pleased to find Neil opening a bottle of red wine, which was handed over to him. “Ah, I forgot about them,” Neil explained as he picked up the dish of lasagna with a pair of oven mitts on his hands and carried it over to the small table which was already set up with two place settings and a basket of bread.

Andrew shrugged to show that he wasn’t too upset by things since they were alone right then, and that seemed to put Neil at ease. They sat down to eat and dinner turned out to be good (considering that Neil made it himself with Jean’s help), and Neil elaborated a little more about the last week or so (minus anything to do with Ichirou).

It was on the tip of Andrew’s tongue to bring up the Barons’ contract, but they’d barely avoided a fight earlier and Neil didn’t want to talk about ‘Ichirou’ stuff so he decided it could wait a little longer. Instead, he drank most of the wine (Neil only had a little) and ate most of the lasagna, and made himself some coffee with the ridiculous machine on the counter while Neil did the dishes.

Neil left to throw the duvet in the wash while Andrew checked his phone to see what Aaron and Nicky were doing (falling on their asses while trying to ice skate, apparently, and posting pics of each other); Neil returned and made himself a cup of tea then handed over one of Andrew’s favorite pints of ice creams. “So, a movie?” he asked.

Andrew shrugged to show that he didn’t care, and after a few minutes they found a stupid ‘holiday’ action film that Neil had never seen (not hard to do) where he complained about why the villain had to be a British guy and all the unrealistic stunts while Andrew showed him pictures of the two idiots now and then.

Neil smiled at them, especially of Nicky sprawled out on the ice. “I learned to ice skate in Germany,” he admitted as his expression grew sad. “During the first winter we were there, that and skiing. Mom didn’t want to leave anything to chance, and skates are useful in a fight. Not a weapon people will expect and you can carry them around.”

Andrew almost asked how old he’d been and if he’d ever had to do such a thing, but had already decided that it wasn’t a night to bring such things to the light. Instead, they talked about how Andrew’s winter break had been once the movie was over (much the same as previous ones) and made out a little on the couch before retreating to the bedroom, mindful of Jean returning at some point (it seemed that Neil wasn’t in the mood for further embarrassment that night).

He didn’t understand how he could still _feel_ such desire to stroke his hands over that one body, to enjoy having someone pressed against him, lips on his skin and fingers in his hair. For so long such things were anathema, were barely tolerated on the best days, and now he lay there with Neil tucked against him as they caressed and kissed each other before falling asleep in the same bed.

Sometimes it didn’t seem real, that Neil was indeed a pipe dream.

For once Andrew woke up first the next morning, his nose tucked against Neil’s tattooed shoulder and arm draped across his boyfriend’s waist, and barely dared to breathe for several seconds. How could such a good thing last? Was Bee right in that everything he’d done was building to this, to a future where these mornings would be common? Everything inside of Andrew rebelled at that idea, that possibility because such things didn’t _happen_ for him. Life didn’t work out that way, not for _him_.

Yet there he was, in a comfortable as hell bed with an armful of sleeping Neil, a hickey in sight that Andrew could recall with ease which he’d left the night before.

He still didn’t trust that it was real, that something wouldn’t snatch it away, but he tightened his arm around his little bird (his boyfriend) and closed his eyes to go back to sleep (to get more rest before facing an arrogant Frenchman and whatever idiocy Neil threw at him and his family).

*******

“Hmm, so Austin next Thursday,” Marley said as she chased after a piece of fish on her plate. “We’re taking a vote on where we’re stopping for dinner before the game – Mexican or barbeque. You got a preference, Captain?”

Neil thought about the question while he ate his apple then nodded. “Mexican.” Marley grinned at the choice and pumped her right fist in the air before reaching for her phone while Dan groaned and Bren sighed.

“You’re gonna pick a place with the spiciest damn food, aren’t ya?” Bren complained, which made Janna grin as well. “Between you and Jan, my poor tongue is gonna be numb by the end of the year.”

“It’s not heat, it’s _flavor_ ,” Marley proclaimed with an exaggerated sniff. “I’d say what’s up with you Brits but Neil turned out _mostly_ okay.”

“Thanks,” Neil drawled before finishing his glass of water and rolled his eyes when Marley blew an air kiss his way.

“Well, at least _you_ guys don’t nearly get into fights over where you want to eat before games,” Dan said while Janna teased Bren about his beloved chips. “And it’s going to be weird, heading off to UT with the Ravens when I was last there as a Fox.”

“At least it’ll be easier to keep track of who’s who out on the court this time.” Neil shared a smile with her while Dan recounted some of the ‘high’ points of the Foxes’ game with the Longhorns, which he’d seen in person ‘thanks’ to Riko. Hopefully this trip to Austin would be a lot less stressful without an unstable psychopath nearby all of the time.

Though there was an entirely new stress in that Neil would be playing the Longhorns as the Ravens’ captain and without Jean at his back; he was doing his best to keep it from overwhelming him as the team entered the playoff season, and he was all too aware of Marley’s and Dan’s (and everyone else’s) attention on him. Over the last couple of days, Noguchi watched him on the court and would pull him aside for ‘input’ after a particularly intense scrimmage, Marley got on him about going to bed on time each night and Dan focused way too much to what he ate and drank. Even Jean made sure to chide him about taking better care of himself during their daily texts and calls.

At least Andrew was a little ‘hands off’ and just asked if he was being a humungous idiot yet again, if Andrew was going to be spared having to deal with flying all the time that semester because of Neil taking a ball to the head and being put out of all of their miseries.

He knew that they were concerned about him, that they didn’t want a repeat of what had happened last summer, so he did his best to push down the sensation of being smothered to the point that he just wanted to start running and not stop until he passed out from exhaustion.

Neil talked to Andrew after dinner, missing him already even though it had just been a few days since they’d parted ways in New York; Neil had been able to spend an evening out with his boyfriend, Nicky and Aaron (with Bren tagging along). It didn’t help that he had to go back to the city for an interview with Exy World and because Ichirou had an important visitor in town and wanted Neil there to translate.

“The next week, maybe,” Neil said as he thought about the two of them at the cabin. “Oh, wait, it’s an away game for you, too, right?” He didn’t know if Andrew wanted to fly so much in the same week, even if the Foxes were on the same Thursday night schedule as the Ravens.

“Yeah, we’re playing the Wolverines,” Andrew said, his tone almost bored. “Then back home for the University of Mississippi Rebels, and then for some little birdies the week after that. Are you going to stay around here that weekend after we kick your ass?”

“Ooh, did you get your head hit by one of those nasty balls during practice today or something?” Neil asked as he slumped down on the couch. “We’re working on it.” Marley certainly wanted to spend more time with Robin.

“Let me know what the next couple of weeks look like, then. If you can’t come the week before our game then I’ll fly out the away week.”

“Okay.” They talked a little longer about their classes so far that semester (Andrew was prepared to graduate and didn’t have any concerns, Neil was relieved to get past most of the general lower level classes and focus on his linguistic degree).

He called Jean after that and picked up immediately on something being ‘off’ with his friend. He asked what had happened, if it had to do with practice or Jeremy, but Jean kept telling him ‘no’ and tried to change the subject, then finally agreed to talk to Neil about ‘it’ when he arrived in New York the next evening. Neil wasn’t happy to have to wait for an answer, but Jean assured him that it wasn’t anything critical or to do with himself.

If it was something to do with Jeremy Knox or if someone else had hurt Jean, Neil was calling Stuart whether Jean liked it or not.

He had to wait until Friday evening when Jean returned from practice to find out what was going on, which did little for his sense of impatience and unease. He had to wonder if it would be a repeat of their uncomfortable discussion on New Year’s Eve, after Andrew had left the apartment; Jean had confessed that he’d been somewhat unbalanced to ‘face’ the fact that Neil was indeed in ‘that’ type of relationship with Andrew – it was one thing to talk about it, but another to _overhear_ it.

Despite the embarrassment, at least Neil and Jean had - well, ‘resolved’ was too strong a word, ‘worked on’ was a bit better – a few things. Jean and Jeremy had talked about their own relationship that night as well, and Jean felt ready to move forward a little. Neil wondered if that was what had Jean upset the last few days.

When his friend finally returned to their apartment, Neil was waiting with mugs of tea and coffee, having been tipped off by Declan when they reached the garage. Jean gave him a grateful smile and a hug before they settled on the one couch. “ _You always were the impatient devil_.”

“ _You’ve made me wait ‘til now, what did you expect_?” Neil studied his friend and though Jean looked a little tired, he seemed otherwise fine so he didn’t think the news was too bad. “ _What is it_?”

Jean was quiet while he sipped his coffee as if needing a moment to gather his thoughts. “ _How are things with you and Min- ah, Andrew_?”

That was an odd question. “ _They’re fine_.” Neil frowned as he held his mug cradled between his palms. “ _We spoke earlier. Why_?”

“ _Has he said anything about his professional contract? About which team he’s leaning toward_?” Jean’s pale grey eyes were intent on Neil while he spoke.

“ _No, just that he has a team in mind and should be signing soon_.” Unease grew in Neil with each question, with the obvious fact that whatever tonight was about, it had to do with Andrew. “ _What have you heard? He **is** going to be signed, right? He **has** to be signed_.” Didn’t any teams want him? _Why_ wouldn’t they? He was one of the best goalies out there and the rumors talked about him making Court at an early age because of his impressive stats.

Jean reached out to brush the back of his fingers along Neil’s right cheek to calm him. “ _No, it’s not that, don’t worry_.” He let out a slow breath before he sipped his coffee again. “ _Yadiel was at the stadium over the holiday_.” Neil recognized that name as belonging to one of the people responsible for the stadium’s maintenance and upkeep who worked with security and Ichirou’s assistants to manage the large building; he was a pleasant middle-aged man who’d helped out during a couple of photo shoots and ‘events’ when Neil had been there, and of course Jean knew the staff much better than him. “ _He told me that Andrew Minyard was there one day, along with his brother, cousin and Thomas Radcliffe.”_ Jean nodded when Neil inhaled suddenly at mention of the co-owner _. “That they were alone in Radcliffe’s box for twenty minutes or so before they left, and one of the bodyguards made a comment about the team getting a new goalie before being told to shut up_.

Neil’s hands clenched around the mug and his breath caught in his throat upon considering what all that meant. “No… _no, it’s not true_.” Andrew hadn’t signed with the Barons, he hadn’t given away that much to _Ichirou_. Not for _Neil._

“ _I’m sorry, but Harkins has been complaining that his contract is up this season and there’s no action by the team’s management so far to re-sign him_ ,” Jean said, his expression one of pity. “ _That leaves a space for a new goalie – the team’s been wondering if management had a new recruit in mind or if they were working on a trade. Now it seems they’re planning on bringing Andrew in_.”

He had to grab the mug from Neil before it fell from Neil’s hands then enfolded him in a hug when Neil took to shaking his head. “ _I’m so sorry, I thought – surely he had to tell you something_?”

“No,” Neil moaned as he buried his face in the crook of Jean’s neck. “ _He didn’t, he just said he had to sign a contract._ ” A brittle laugh broke free as he wrapped his arms around Jean’s back. “ _He’s giving part of his salary to Ichirou **and** he’s on Ichirou’s team? How can he be so **stupid**? Why would he do such a stupid thing_?”

Jean sighed into Neil’s hair while he rubbed his hands up and down Neil’s back. “ _He did it to protect you_.”

“ _I didn’t ask him to do it_!” Neil yelled as his hands balled into fists. “ _I- everything was fine! Everyone was safe and… and now Ichirou has power over him, dammit_!” He jerked away from Jean and stumbled onto his feet as emotions fought inside of him – what he felt for Andrew, fear of what Ichirou could do to his boyfriend, to everyone Neil cared about, the pull of the awful numbness because Ichirou would just win again, rage over having control snatched away once again and being so helpless. “ _He shouldn’t have done it_!”

“ _Everyone was safe but **you**_ **,** ” Jean stated in a ragged voice, his face aged with some terrible emotion just then. “ _I think he’s an utter fool for keeping this from you if it’s true, but he did what he did to save you_.”

“ _By having both of us under Ichirou’s thumb? How does that work_?” Neil demanded to know. “ _And I don’t need to be saved_!” Why did everyone believe that?

“ _I am too tired to hear the mad ramblings of a British devil_ ,” Jean sighed as he stood up with the mugs in his hand. He was slow to approach Neil and, when Neil just stood there, pushed the half-empty mug of tea at Neil’s chest until Neil accepted it then gave him a lingering kiss on his forehead. “ _I only told you because I felt you deserved the truth, not to cause a fight_.”

Some of Neil’s anger (some, a tiny bit) melted upon hearing that – it wasn’t Jean who deserved his anger, after all. Also, he needed a definite answer before he did anything. “Thank you.”

“ _Get some rest before you do anything_ ,” Jean advised before he went into the kitchen for some more coffee; Neil followed and they made a light supper, the topic ‘shelved’ for the night.

He didn’t answer Andrew’s texts that night, nor the next morning. He didn’t know what to say, not with the anger barely held at bay, the anger and the hurt and an odd sense of exhaustion.

Late in the afternoon Bren drove him over to some restaurant overlooking the East River, all sleek dark blue walls with silver features and abstract artwork that served a lot of small plates and bite-sized appetizers. Ichirou had Neil assist in translating for a small party of Chinese associates he was looking to merge some ‘assets’ with in certain locations.

Neil was aware of the stares at the tattoo on his cheek, at the whispers of ‘Wesninski’ and ‘Hatford’, of one of the men shifting a little too close until Bren stepped forward with an impressive glower.

He didn’t eat anything that afternoon and only drank flavored water, and was grateful when Ichirou’s ‘guests’ thanked the Moriyama crime lord for his hospitality and suggested another meeting in a couple of weeks. Ichirou nodded in agreement and promised to have someone follow up on the matter, then watched as Sato escorted them from the restaurant.

He was quiet for a moment after they left then reached out to brush aside a strand of hair from Neil’s forehead; off to the side, Jamie frowned but didn’t say anything. She’d attended the meeting in Stuart’s place since their uncle was off in Chicago following up on another matter for Ichirou.

“That went well,” Ichirou stated as his fingers lingered in Neil’s hair for a second or two. “You always impress me with your language skills.”

“I’d hope so, considering that’s why I’m here,” Neil said with a slight smile. “You’d be in trouble if I didn’t understand anything and started talking about puppies and birthday cakes or something preposterous.” That made Jamie grin and Bren chuckle.

“Somehow I think we’d figure it out by now,” Ichirou remarked in a dry tone. “Especially with that mouth of yours.” He gave said mouth an intent look until Neil shifted about in discomfort. “I didn’t see you eat anything, you must be hungry. Stay and have dinner with me.”

There was no way for Neil to turn that down so he nodded, and was grateful when Jamie made a fuss about being hungry too and included herself in the meal. Ichirou didn’t object, but Neil picked up the tension in his lord’s jaw and shoulders, and knew that Ichirou wasn’t pleased with the addition.

He waited until they were almost done with the main course of some sort of seafood risotto before he spoke up. “I hear that the Barons are going to have a new goalie next year.” He set his fork aside when Ichirou looked his way. “A rookie, perhaps.”

“Perhaps,” Ichirou said in a blasé manner as he picked up his wine glass, giving nothing away save for the glimmer of excitement in his dark eyes.

“And would that rookie be Andrew Minyard?” Neil pressed while Jamie paused in eating her meal next to him. “I hear that he made a point to stop by the stadium when he was in town.”

Ichirou smiled as he set his glass down. “He hasn’t told you?” he asked, which confirmed Neil’s fears on the matter. “How foolish of the man, especially since he insisted on being the one to tell you the news. If he wanted to do that, he should have confessed sooner before you figured things out.” He leaned forward as if to confide a secret. “ _I_ never held anything back from you, Nathaniel. I hold you in higher esteem than that.”

No, Ichirou merely treated Neil like a living doll, it wasn’t the same thing at all, but Neil forced himself to hold back the scathing comment at the tip of his tongue and give his lord a bland smile. “I’m sure he has his reasons.” It might even be the truth.

“Poor ones, whatever they are.” Still, Ichirou seemed to pick up on Neil’s discomfort and changed the topic, brought up the home game next week and him being on campus Thursday and possibly Friday as well. Neil merely nodded and forced himself to finish the last of his meal but couldn’t eat any of the dessert (fruit tarts).

Jamie cornered him before he and Bren could leave, a worried expression on her face. “What’s going on with you and Minyard? You’re upset with him signing with the Barons? Is that right?” She glanced at Bren as if to confirm what she just said.

“He’s put himself in Ichirou’s hands,” Neil tried to explain. “Anything that Ichirou doesn’t like, he can use the contract or training or the schedule against Andrew.” After a year on the same team as Riko, after almost two years with Tetsuji, Neil was all too aware of how one’s teammates or coach could turn things against a person, and that was just the start of the potential abuses. What if Andrew’s travel arrangements were always sub-par? His endorsement schedule too intense? His equipment faulty? “And there’s nothing Andrew can do about it because he signed that damned contract.” Andrew or Neil, because Ichirou pulled the strings tied to both of them, all because of _Neil_.

“It doesn’t have to be that bad,” Jamie tried to argue, only to sigh when Neil scoffed out loud. “From what Stuart told me, he did it to help you.”

“I didn’t _ask_ him to, either of them,” Neil stated before he spun around, his temper spiking as he thought about how both men had interfered in his life. Jamie called out his name but he ignored her, ignored everything but reaching the SUV which would take him back to the apartment.

“They were just trying to make things better,” was all Bren said once they climbed into the vehicle.

“Funny, it doesn’t feel that way right now,” Neil shot back as he slumped down in the passenger seat.

His friend was quiet after that.

There was yet another message from Andrew on Neil’s phone, which he checked when he reached the apartment (Jean was still playing the Racine Racers, it appeared). Bracing himself to do what he felt was necessary, Neil stepped out onto the balcony and gazed at the city lights before him as he called Andrew.

“Still alive?”

Why did it hurt to hear Andrew’s voice when _he_ was the one who’d been an asshole? Neil closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head before he answered. “More or less.”

It was quiet as Andrew exhaled a lungful of smoke, and when he spoke his deep voice was without inflection – a warning sign, yet Neil didn’t give a damn. “What happened? Did the little prick do something?”

“It wasn’t him.” A mirthless laugh slipped free as Neil opened his eyes and wrapped his left arm around his ribs. “Tell me about the Barons, Andrew. How much are they paying you? Did you get a nice signing bonus?”

There was more silence on the line save for the metallic click of Andrew’s lighter as he flicked it open and closed, something he did when he was annoyed or stalling for time. “Who told you? _Ichirou_? Radcliffe?” Now there was a hint of annoyance in his voice.

“Neither, because apparently _you_ were supposed to tell me, imagine that,” Neil said with a heavy dose of sarcasm. “However, one of the staff saw you and mentioned it to Jean, who didn’t know about your little arrangement.”

Andrew clicked his tongue. “Trust Valjean to fuck-“

“ _No_ ,” Neil snapped as he jerked his left hand through his hair despite the pain. “You don’t blame Jean for this, you asshole! You lied to me! You told me that you had a team in mind, not that you had to sign to one in particular!” That he’d given so much power to Ichirou because of Neil.

“The little I’d told you had you freaking out as it was,” Andrew said in that emotionless manner of his which sometimes worked beneath Neil’s skin and made him want to punch some sort of reaction out of his boyfriend. “So I decided to… dammit, I _was_ going to tell you, it never seemed like the right time, though.”

“When was?” Neil demanded to know. “Right before the Barons announced their new line-up? Before Ichirou used you against me?”

“He can’t.”

There was another harsh laugh from Neil. “You don’t know Ichirou, do you? Of course not, else you wouldn’t have given him a fucking leash around your neck which he can use to strangle you.” No wonder Ichirou felt so certain that Neil was still ‘his’.

“I know he signed a piece of paper in front of witnesses stating that you’re no longer his,” Andrew gritted out. “And if he tries to change that fact, I’m snapping _his_ neck.”

All of a sudden Neil felt so tired, felt drained and hopeless; he rubbed at his face as he thought about Ichirou and Andrew circling each other like two snarling dogs with him as a damn bone caught between them. As he thought about himself as some weak, helpless creature who needed to be saved and coddled and protected. “I could have done that at any point while I slept with him,” he told Andrew as the numbness filled his chest once again. “I could have taken the necklace he gave me and choked him with it, could have smothered him with a pillow-“

“Neil.”

“-could have crept out of bed and used his own gun against him, shot him in the head with it, could have stabbed him in the eye with a fork during one of the times we ate, could have-“

“ _Neil_.” For some reason Andrew sounded upset. “Stop it.”

“I could have done all those things,” Neil said in a quiet voice. “It just would have cost too much if I did.” It would have stopped the _touching_ , but it would mean Jean’s life, Jean’s and Marley’s and Meg’s, and probably Stuart’s as well, Stuart’s and Bren’s and all the Hatfords’ associated with him.

He didn’t care about his own life.

“Don’t you see? This… this isn’t just about you keeping the truth from me,” he tried to explain as he hunched over, his arm once more wrapped around his chest. “Or that you did something so stupid. It’s that you did it without asking me as if I was helpless and everything I’d done had been a mistake. I know what deals I’ve made, Andrew. I made them for very good reasons. You don’t get to undo all of that just… just _because_ and then make it worse on top of it.”

“I did it to save your life,” Andrew said without inflection.

“Maybe, maybe not, but I didn’t ask you to do it.”

“Right, you’re the only one who gets to be a fool martyr, I forgot that part.”

“No one else put their lives at risk for me,” Neil argued. Well, perhaps Bren, but Neil had fixed that in the end. “That’s the whole point of this, I’m already Moriyama property so it doesn’t matter. You weren’t until you fucked things up.”

“Only you would have that take on someone keeping you from being shot in the head,” Andrew drawled.

“I’ve been living on borrowed time since I was ten years old, it doesn’t really matter to me in the end,” Neil stated as he thought of all the years on the run with his mother, to the awful night in Seattle and watching her remains burn on that beach.

“Neil-“

“No, I’m done arguing or whatever this is,” he said. “I need… I need time to think about this.” He needed time and space, needed to sit back and take it all in, what Andrew had and hadn’t done. Talking to Andrew made things so difficult, brought up too many painful memories and conflicted emotions, that he needed to take a step back.

“To think or run away?” Andrew asked in a quiet voice of his own.

“To _think_ ,” Neil repeated. “Allow me to do that, okay?” When Andrew didn’t respond right away, Neil sighed. “This is me saying ‘no’, all right? No calls, no texts, no visits unless I reach out first.” Then he thought about how harsh that sounded and sighed again. “Give me a little time, Drew. That’s all I’m asking for right now. It’s not… I just want some space right now.”

“Okay,” Andrew told him. “Call me when you’re ready.” He didn’t sound as if he believed Neil would.

“I will, I promise.”

Andrew clicked his tongue once before he hung up; Neil stared at the fox picture on his phone for several seconds before he slipped back into the apartment.

Jean found him soaking in the bath when he returned from his game an hour or so later. He stepped into the bathroom, gazed at Neil for a second or two then walked out, and came back a few minutes later with a cup of tea and Neil’s robe, the latter of which was set aside on the sink’s counter. Jean knelt by the tub and held out the mug to Neil, who forced his arm to move and accept the beverage.

“Andrew?”

“Yeah.” Neil rested his head back against the tiled wall as he waited for the tea to cool a little more, still cold and numb despite the hot water in the tub. “You were right.”

Jean muttered in French and rubbed the back of his neck for a couple of seconds. “And what did you do?”

Neil wondered why his life was such a mess as he watched the steam rise from the mug to join that from the bathwater. “We argued, he seemed to think what he did was fine, I told him to give me some space.”

“Of course you did.” Jean buried his face in his hands while Neil took a cautious sip of the tea. “Which explains why you’re once more hiding in the bath. What’s next, the blackouts? Drills out on court until you pass out?”

What the hell? “I’m not going to-“

Jean splashed water in his face. “Yes, you are because yes, you do.” Jean splashed more water when Neil went to complain then sighed as he brushed aside the wet hair clinging to Neil’s forehead. “I know you’re upset and I understand. I’d be furious if Jeremy did such a thing to me, especially after all of our _many_ talks about communication and trust.” He grimaced a little as he spoke the last few words which made Neil smile despite himself. “But I believe that Andrew was doing his best to look out for you so why are you feeling like this?”

Why indeed? “Because everyone yells at me when I do such a thing yet I’m supposed to be happy when someone does the same thing for me? When I feel like I’m losing the small bit of control I have over my life?”

“When you put it that way, your need for endless melodrama doesn’t seem so silly.”

That time Neil did the splashing, which earned him a displeased frown. “Thank you ever so much.”

“Devil,” Jean hissed as he rocked back on his heels. “Go ahead and drown yourself.”

“Only if I can drag you down with me,” Neil said with a slight smile and abundant affection.

“A pathetic oaf like you can only try.” Jean got up to grab one of the towels and set it on the floor near the tub. “Ten more minutes or I’ll have Bren drag you out.”

Neil would complain about that lack of choice thing… but he’d been in the bath a long time already and really should get out soon. “Tyrant.”

“Of course.” Jean grinned as he left the bathroom with his head (complete with damp hair) held high.

Being with Jean helped, but all too soon Neil had to return to Edgar Allan, to the Nest and the room with the bed where he’d slept with Andrew (had _sex_ with Andrew), the bed with the fox plushie on it and the Foxes sweatshirt draped over the chair by his desk for when he grew cold. He had to explain everything to Marley and Dan, about why he wasn’t talking to Andrew and why his boyfriend wasn’t coming to Charleston that weekend and why he just wanted to be left alone to practice on the court (and no, he wasn’t going to overdo things _that_ time, though he struggled to sleep at night).

He still felt a bit numb, felt a bit cold, but it was different that time. It was more like when he’d lost his mother and had been struggling to find his way in Millport, to deal with being alone. It frightened him, the realization of how important Andrew had become to him in the last few years (months), which made it all the more important for Andrew to realize why what he’d done had upset Neil so much.

Hell, he’d settle for everyone but Jean understanding why what Andrew had done had upset him so much, after putting up with _Marley_ arguing that the ‘stunted monkey-fucker’ had meant well, Meg texting him all the time about how Andrew was freaking everyone out by being so quiet and appearing in a bad mood, and Dan asking if Neil was all right then grinding her teeth together when he said he was ‘fine’.

That wasn’t even taking into account Bren trying to pour alcohol down his throat whenever they were alone together and Janna going on about how even great guys fucked up now and then. Even _Stuart_ called one night to say that Andrew had done the best he could, all things considered. _Stuart_.

Neil was regretting ever leaving Millport, which made him all the angrier when he thought about everything – it all came down to people fucking up his life by keeping secrets from him and thinking they knew what was _best_ for him and not giving him a damn choice. If only his mother had told him the truth about why they’d run away from his father all those years ago, then he wouldn’t have tried out for the Exy team in Millport and been scouted by the Foxes and come to the Moriyamas’ attention and-

If only.

But his mother _had_ kept the truth from him and his father _had_ sold him like chattel and Gordon _had_ made that damn post and Andrew _had_ made that damn deal with Ichirou then hidden the contract with the Barons.

Neil was working on accepting that Andrew had done those two things for his benefit when Thursday came around and the Ravens had their home game against Binghamton, a game which the Ravens won without any difficulty. He took part of the pre-game interview with Marley but left the post-game to her and Leif since Ichirou was expecting him up in the East Tower, where he spent the next couple of hours with a fake smile plastered on his lips while he translated at Ichirou’s side (yet not too close).

Jamie was there once again and was quick to pull him aside to ‘talk about family things’ once people began to leave and gave him an assessing gaze when they were mostly alone (save for Bren and the tall man in his late twenties who served as her own guard). “You… I don’t know how you manage to switch languages like that. Henry knows a bit of Italian to go along with the French, but nothing like what you just did, and he sure as hell couldn’t play a game on top of it all.”

Neil shrugged to show that it wasn’t a big deal. “I’m used to it.” Hadn’t they talked about it already?

Something akin to sorrow flashed across his cousin’s face. “So it seems. You talk to your boyfriend yet?” She sighed when he didn’t answer. “Yeah, you’re a Hatford all right, stubborn as hell and convinced that you’re never wrong.”

“I’m not when it comes to this,” Neil insisted.

“Just… don’t be so prideful that you do – or don’t do – something you’ll regret,” Jamie warned. “Learn from our parents, okay?”

He flinched a little from that statement, but her expression was so earnest just then that he didn’t think she’d said it to hurt him, to bring up his mother and throw Mary in his face.

Though Mary was one hell of a cautionary tale, he had to admit.

He nodded before he wished Jamie a good night, though he’d be seeing her the next day at Ichirou’s mansion. That was another day of smiling and standing around and translating, of ignoring the assessing looks sent his way and the fleeting touches along his back.

It hit Neil later that night when he was at the Ravens House that he couldn’t call Andrew to complain about things, to listen to his boyfriend’s voice to help calm down, to be reassured that things were all right (as much as they ever were in his life). Well, he _could_ … but the anger and the numbness were still there (as odd as it sounded), the awful hurt which he was struggling to work past.

At least classes and practice served as some sort of distraction, though Marley and Dan and Noguchi (and half the damn team, really) kept watch over him to ensure that he didn’t push too hard. Bren was quick to pull him up to the East Tower when back at the Nest so he wasn’t out on the court wearing himself thin, and Dan tracked him down there (Bren was drinking, Neil going through his phone to look at old texts which Andrew had sent). “You busy?” she asked, which made Bren snort and Quentin, who must have let her up in the tower, roll his eyes.

“Uhm, not really,” Neil answered as he sat up on the couch. “Is something wrong?” Had something happened to one of the players?

“No, it’s fine, it’s just… look, someone wants to talk to you,” she said as she shoved her phone in his face.

Neil recoiled at first, wary that she was trying to get him to patch things up with Andrew, but it was a woman’s voice on the other end of the phone. He frowned as he accepted it and held it to his ear with some trepidation. “Hello?”

“Hi Neil, this is Renee. Thank you for speaking with me.”

Renee Walker, former goalkeeper for the Foxes and one of Dan’s best friends. He remembered her from the two banquets when he’d been a freshman and the two games the Ravens and Foxes had played against each other that year, though really, the most ‘interaction’ he’d had with the young woman had been sitting at the same table during the Fall banquet.

Still, Andrew trusted her, as did Dan, Meg and Marley, so he didn’t end the call. “Uhm, okay. Aren’t you supposed to be in Africa?”

“Yes, but phones work here too, you know,” she told him with a good dose of humor. “I’ve been setting up some clinics lately, so I’ve had a little more time to talk to Dan and Andrew.”

“Okay.” So why was she talking to Neil?

As if picking up on his confusion, Renee hummed a little, her voice oddly soothing. “I must admit, it’s not easy getting certain things out of Andrew, but I’m sure you know all about that. He eventually did tell me what’s going on between the two of you.” While she talked, Dan went over to glare at Bren, who’d been joined at the bar by Quentin and was pouring them both some whisky.

“Oh,” Neil said as he slumped down once more on the couch. “You’re calling to what, argue for him?”

“I believe he should be the one to explain his actions, I just wanted to remind you that he’s a good man and he cares for you. He just… he’s not used to things going right for him, surely you can understand that? Which makes him very protective of the few things that do.”

It sounded as if she was explaining things for Andrew after all, but Neil didn’t care enough to point that out anymore. “And do you think he’ll keep acting the way he did in the future?” This was Renee Walker, after all, the closest thing Andrew had to a best friend, was the person he’d fought with almost every week, who’d given him the knives he wore (Neil didn’t know the whole story behind that, he just know there _was_ a story), had taught Meg to fight, who made Neil nervous because of the hint of darkness behind her ‘sweet’ exterior. All those things gave a weight to her words, her insight, let alone the fact that he knew it had to be late at night in South Africa yet she was talking to him on Andrew’s behalf.

To give her credit, Renee fell quiet as if thinking about her answer before she spoke again. “I believe he’ll consider his actions in the future now that he knows that he hurt you, but in the end he’ll do whatever he feels is in your best interest. That’s what he does, Neil. It doesn’t matter what the damage is to him, he’ll make sure the people he cares about are safe first and foremost.”

“And if I’m hurt in the process?” Neil demanded to know as he wrapped his left arm around his drawn-up knees.

“There’s degrees of ‘hurt’,” Renee argued. “You’ll be upset and angry at him, but you’ll be physically safe and free, which is what matters to him the most.”

“He’s so _damn_ frustrating,” Neil snapped, which made Bren, Dan and Quentin gaze his way.

“Yes, on that we can agree.”

He was half-tempted to throw the phone aside except it wasn’t his. “Anything else?” he asked in a sarcastic manner instead.

“Hmm, no, that’s it. I merely wanted to talk to you and ask that you consider one or two things.” She was quiet again for a moment or two. “You’re really good for Andrew, you make him happy. I’d hate for anything to happen to that, especially since I think he makes you happy, too.”

“When he’s not hiding things from me and making stupid deals with a crime lord,” Neil snarked, which made Bren chuckle and Dan shake her head.

“There is that, but no one’s perfect,” Renee reminded him. “Sometimes you have to take your happiness as is with a ‘grumpy, untalkative, know-it-all asshole’, especially when you’re a ‘mouthy, suicidal, Exy-loving idiot’, yes?”

Neil’s eyes narrowed at that remark. “I think it’s time for Dan to have her phone back.”

“I agree, we’ve inconvenienced her enough. It was nice talking with you, Neil.”

Too bad he couldn’t say the same, he thought as he hung up. He was tempted to go over and pour himself some whisky after he threw the phone to Dan, but there was the still another practice before bed.

It was during that practice that he talked about the call with Marley while they stood off to the side and watched the freshmen play against the sophomores. “ _Well, Renee is the SMF’s friend, not surprised that she’s looking out for him_ ,” Marley said in French.

“ _Am I being that unreasonable_?” he asked after he called out to Allie to watch her grip as she passed the ball.

Marley shook her head after a moment’s reflection. “ _You know I’m new to this relationship stuff and I’ve been talking to the others about it. Jean said he’d break Surfer Puppy’s left arm if he did such a thing then wait to see if he’d learned his lesson before moving on to the right one_.” She shared a smile with Neil who felt duly impressed over how far their friend had come in the past year or so. Then her smile faltered a little. “ _But you and him… well, you share a lot in common so I’m not surprised that Crusty has your back. Robin was all for Andrew and is upset because she says he’s really unhappy and seems to be blaming himself over what happened, but after I explained your side… I think she understands it a bit better and she’s no longer all pro-Andrew_ ,” she admitted. “ _But she still hopes that you can work it out and feels that he’s learned his lesson. Meg feels the same way_.”

“ _And you_?” Neil asked as he twirled his racquet between his hands.

“ _I just want you to be happy, Short Stuff, and clearly you’re not. Yeah, Andrew fucked up, but I feel he was doing his best to help you_.” She snorted a little as she shook her head. “ _He’s supposedly a bright boy, give him a chance to prove that he learned from this and dump his ass if he didn’t_.”

Neil sighed and considered that while Marley and Dan yelled out some corrections on the younger Ravens’ footwork; he was miserable without Andrew and he didn’t want to break up, which meant that it was time to resolve things.

“ _I guess… we’re still on for a road-trip this weekend_ ,” he said, which made Marley gawk at him for a couple of seconds before she let out a loud cheer and hugged him.

*******

Andrew stared out over the darkened PSU campus as Neil’s words from the call earlier echoed through his head – the deadness in his voice as he talked about all the ways he could have killed Ichirou in the past couple of years, the _ease_ of which he’d rattled off all those ways, the hurt and anger when he’d confronted Andrew about signing with the Barons, for keeping the truth from him.

He’d said that he didn’t want to talk to Andrew _for now_ , but it would only be a matter of time before he came to his senses and realized that he was so much better off without someone as fucked up as Andrew in his life. That he could do so much better than Andrew – all he had to do was look at the hundreds of comments on the Ravens’ Instagram account, see the adoring faces in the stadiums and wherever the Ravens went as the fans huddled around for a chance to ask for an autograph or picture.

Neil was gorgeous and talented and smart (for an idiot), and he deserved someone who could put together his own broken pieces. Not someone who lied by omission and hurt him.

He’d promised Neil that he would never intentionally hurt him, but he’d hurt him all the same.

His latest cigarette smoked down to the filter, Andrew flicked it out into the air and reached into his coat for another one when he found his right hand sliding along his left forearm instead. He’d hurt Neil, had been careless and arrogant and stupid and rash so why not feel the same amount of pain if not more? Why not-

He had the knife in his hand and was pushing back his sleeve and armband when he realized what he was doing, and took to staring at the pale bit of scarred flesh for several seconds before he clicked his tongue and forced himself to stand up, his legs numb from sitting on the ledge for so long. Then he stalked across the roof and through the metal door, down the steps past the third floor and out to the parking lot.

Bee was asleep when he reached her house, but he’d only rung the doorbell seven times when she opened the door with her greying hair tousled, face puffy and creased from her pillow and dressed in a plush pink robe he remembered her telling him that Abby and Wymack had given her for Christmas three years ago. She took one look at him and opened the storm door. “Give me a minute to put the coffee on,” she said as he slipped inside.

He followed her into the kitchen and sat down at the small round table, where he watched her start a fresh pot of coffee and fetch a store-bought coffee cake from one of the cabinets, which she cut into and brought two slices over to the table. “What’s wrong?”

A bit of a leading question, but he supposed a fair one when he’d shown up at her door around two in the morning. “I fucked up,” he said, and for once she didn’t argue, at least not right away. “Neil found out that I signed with the Barons over the holiday break.”

“Okay.” Bee had a bite of the cake as she considered that. “It’s possible that I’m not awake enough and just not grasping the importance of that statement or there’s more to it than that. Why would he be so upset? He’s going to play for the same team, isn’t he? He certainly spends a lot of time with them and his ex-partner is a Baron.”

Bee might not be an expert on the silly stickball sport, but she hung out with Wymack enough to pick up news about it, not to mention dealt with several of its players. “He’s going to be a Baron when he graduates,” Andrew admitted. “And there’s a lot of things going on with me joining the team as well.” Things he still didn’t want Bee to know, such as anything Moriyama related. “Let’s just say that it ties into me helping him out which he’s still upset about because he feels… I don’t know, that I overstepped myself there, and that I’ve kept the fact that I was going to join the team a secret for the last few months.” Once again he recalled the hurt and anger in Neil’s voice, recalled Neil telling him ‘no’ and pushed the plate of cake aside.

“Oh, okay.” Bee got up to pour them both a mug of coffee and fixed Andrew’s the way he liked it, with plenty of milk and sugar. “Let’s break this down, shall we? First, you knew something and you kept it from Neil for several months?” She sat down again and regarded him with a concerned look. “That doesn’t sound like you. You’re usually much more blunt and open. One might even say too blunt and open.”

Andrew propped his chin on his left palm and shrugged while he tapped the fingers of his right hand against the mug. “Neil reacted so badly to finding out about me stepping in to help him that I found myself hedging a little about what all I did in regards to him, and then… it never seemed the right time to tell him about the contract,” he admitted.

Something akin to understanding flashed across Bee’s face. “Because you were happy for once? You didn’t want to do anything to ruin what you had because you’d never been so happy.”

That was a bit of an exaggeration. “And look what happened, he found out and it was just as much of a train wreck as I’d suspected,” Andrew drawled as he picked up the mug and took a cautious sip.

“It was a train wreck because Neil is someone who’s suffered systematic abuse, from what I can tell,” Bee said as her gaze grew distant. “From what is implied about his childhood, his father was abusive, probably on a couple of fronts if what I’ve heard about Nathaniel Wesninski was true, and his life didn’t get much better being raised on the run. Then you add the Nest on top of it, and I believe it’s safe to say that Neil at the very least has trust issues – all supposition on my part, of course.” She paused to have some coffee while she regarded Andrew. “I’ll agree that you ‘fucked up’ in holding back something important from him, but with the addendum that you had the best intentions in doing so.”

Andrew gave the slightest of sneers at that. “How can you say that?”

“Because I know you, and I know how hard you’ve worked on building something between you and Neil,” she shot back without any hesitation. “Perhaps if this had happened a couple of years ago when you’d started your calls with each other or when you’d first tried to make a deal with him I’d be a bit more doubtful about your intent, but you’ve been tearing yourself into pieces to make sure you don’t ‘fuck up’ ever since the two of you have become involved.”

“Yet it happened,” Andrew reminded her as he set his mug down and stared into it, as he struggled to push Neil’s voice from his mind.

“Yes, it did. That’s the thing about relationships and people, you have to take the bad things with the good.” Bee was quiet as her hand slowly reached across the table and, when Andrew didn’t move or lean back in his chair, gave his right arm a gentle pat. “You messed up this time. Neil will mess up in the future. You both learn from your mistakes and forgive each other and move on, it’s what you do in relationships.”

He huffed as he sat up in the chair. “That’s assuming he wants anything to do with me after this.”

Bee frowned as she wrapped both hands around her mug. “You said he was upset with you, not that he ended things.”

“It’s only a matter of time.”

“I think that’s your negativity talking.” Bee smiled when he gave her a flat look for the comment. “He didn’t say that it was over, did he? Let me guess, he yelled at you and maybe called you a name, that’s what people do when they’re upset, but he didn’t tell you that he hated you and he didn’t tell you it was over.”

“He called me an asshole and told me not to reach out to him or come to Charleston,” Andrew said as he thought about the call earlier that night.

“Hmm.” Bee had another sip of coffee. “To never talk to him again or just not talk to him for a while?”

“Not until he calls me,” Andrew clarified. “He wants some time to think about things, supposedly.” But that was never a good thing, according to Nicky and the other Foxes, from what Andrew had heard over the years from talk in the locker rooms.

Bee scoffed and shoved Andrew’s slice of cake back towards him. “Ha, is _that_ all? I’ll bet treating _you_ to a year’s worth of ice cream that he’s pushing for a sense of control, especially if he feels that you took some away from him with that deal or whatever. Yes, reasserting some sort of control and a test of sorts to see if you’ll honor his wishes,” she said while nodding. “It’s not all bad, Andrew, honestly. Give him the space he needs and it’ll get better.” When he sat there and stared at her, she sighed. “Look, the both of you are new to this and you upset Neil, be it for a good reason or not.” She sighed again when he folded his arms over his chest and arched an eyebrow over that ‘not’. “We’ll talk about that in a minute, but for right now, accept that you’re still in a relationship with a young man who’s a little angry with you and you’ll need to work on fixing that.”

He gazed at her while he slurped his coffee. “I’m here instead of sleeping for that bit of advice?”

“Hey, you wake me up in the middle of the night, you get what you get,” she told him with a bit of sour attitude and a hint of a smile.

He’d remember that in the future.

They spent about an hour going over the rest of his call with Neil, over as much as he was comfortable discussing when it came to Ichirou Moriyama and Neil’s past, and while he couldn’t say that he felt ‘better’… he didn’t feel the impulse to slip free a knife and add to his scars anymore.

Aaron, Nicky and Katelyn were quiet around him on Sunday when he finally got out of bed, gave him plenty of nervous looks which soon took on a sympathetic edge by late afternoon (Marley must have said something to Meg who then would have told Katelyn). Nicky shuffled into the kitchen while Andrew was eating a pint of ice cream and strove for what he probably believed was an encouraging expression. “Neil will come around, you’ll see,” his cousin told him. “He’s crazy about you. Just let him blow off some steam and you’ll be talking again in no time.”

“Don’t,” Andrew warned the busybody. “Don’t interfere. This is between me and him.”

“I’m not,” Nicky insisted. “I’m just saying that it’ll be okay. Erik and I argue more than you suspect but we always work things out in the end. That’s all I’m trying to say.”

“And don’t say anything else,” Andrew insisted as he threw the empty pint in the trash then walked away, unwilling to talk about the matter any longer.

He didn’t go to practice that night, unwilling to deal with Meg and Kenny, the happy couple, or listen to Robin talk about Marley. Instead, he climbed up on his bunk with a fifth of whiskey and a couple of books, and did his best not to think about Neil.

It sort of worked.

The younger Foxes picked up on something being wrong during practice on Monday, but Meg and Wymack kept them (mostly) distracted and Andrew away from the goal for the afternoon session; there were some snide looks from Matheson and Hurst but the threat of being benched on top of running in another marathon kept them at bay.

Well, that and Andrew had taken to flipping a knife while he waited for Nicky and Aaron to finish getting geared up in the locker room.

He spent most of the evening up on the roof, smoking and staring at the Ravens’ Instagram account until his throat felt raw and he wanted to throw his phone after all the cigarette butts. There were a couple of pictures of Neil out on Edgar Allan campus, all of him with a somber expression and shadows beneath his eyes as if he hadn’t slept well, but otherwise appeared ‘normal’.

When it was time for Robin’s lessons, Andrew forced himself onto his feet and went down to the GS to drive off to the Foxhole Court, where he geared up and went out onto court to correct the young goalie once again. She was steadily getting better, her Sunday ‘sessions’ with Meg building up her confidence as much as the nightly practices and Wymack letting her play in the game for part of a quarter here and there.

She did a good job of blocking Kenny’s shots on the goal and even Meg’s, to the point that Andrew felt that the Foxes would be all right next year after he went to the pros. He leaned against the wall and called out a couple of corrections, went out and showed her a block or two but for the most part, she was doing fine on her own.

Meg came over to stand next to him, mindful to be out of reach, and watched her boyfriend’s shots be blocked with a proud smile on her face. “She’ll be able to help out with the championship games soon enough.”

Andrew didn’t say anything, but Meg took his lack of dissent as agreement. “Yeah, she’s coming along well.” Then she tapped the bottom of her racquet a couple of times against the hard floor of the court. “Uhm, look, Marley said that Neil’s more hurt than-“

“ _No_.” He didn’t bother looking over at the dealer. “Stay out of this,” he insisted. Why did everyone believe they had a right to butt into his and Neil’s lives?

“I just wanted to pass on that-“

He walked away.

People seemed to get the hint soon enough that he didn’t want to talk about Neil, especially when his hands crept toward his armbands as soon as he heard the ‘N’ word be brought up – the only exception being Bee and a rare phone call with Renee. The latter called him to talk about her holiday in the south of France with Reynolds and some health clinics she was going to help set up all over South Africa in the next few months (which should finish up her owed time in the Peace Corps), and how she wasn’t sure that she’d sign up for another twenty-seven months.

Then she asked about him and… if it wasn’t that she knew him well enough to spot when he was trying to change the topic or hide something, he’d skip the whole Neil thing, but she did so he gave what he thought was a high-level summary and she ended up dragging out more details until they spent almost an hour talking about the mess. Much like Bee, she thought that Neil was testing to see if Andrew was respecting his boundaries after believing that Andrew had crossed a line once, and while she felt that Andrew could have handled things better, she also believed that Neil at the least should have realized that Andrew had done something necessary for his benefit (try convincing a certain stubborn little bird that).

At least Neil wasn’t brought up at all when Kevin called, other than a brief reference to how the Ravens were kicking ass once again that season and Andrew (along with the rest of the Foxes) better be putting in more than the usual effort if they had any hope of making the finals, let alone snatching away the championship title from the other team. Andrew let him rant on for about five minutes before he grew bored (more bored) with the topic. “How goes things with Thea?”

“Uhm… she talked to me the other day!” Kevin declared with what actually sounded like (misplaced) optimism. “And it was about something other than practice or the game! She asked for my opinion on an outfit to wear for a team photo!”

“So what, ten whole words?”

“Thirteen, there were _thirteen_ of them,” Kevin informed him with a great deal of offended dignity.

“At this rate you’ll be back together in ten years,” Andrew said, and hung up when he was called an insensitive asshole.

Hmm, there seemed to be a theme going on.

The Foxes beat the Rebels that Thursday, oh what fun; he may have spent his time out on court thwarting any attempts on the goal just so the Rebels were as miserable as he was and flinging the balls at their thighs so as to ‘share the pain’. Wymack gave him a considering look at half-time and told him not to cripple anyone if he had to go back out there (he didn’t, Hayes did a decent job of not giving up too many goals during the second half and Robin only let the other team score one goal when she was out for the last ten minutes of the game), and the Foxes had the necessary two games out of three to see them through to the death matches.

Which was good, because they played the Ravens next week and no one expected them to win that early in the play-off season, especially when Katelyn pulled up the other team’s game when they were back in the suite. “Wow, they tore apart Binghamton, didn’t they?”

Andrew wouldn’t complain if those bastards had their spirit broken early enough in the season that they lost the next game and were out in the first round, which might be possible considering the beating they just took at Castle Evermore. The Ravens’ freakish synchronization was as tight as ever if not elevated to a new level, with Neil and Marley not even having to look in each other’s directions when they passed on the ball.

Neil didn’t take part of the post-game interview (which meant that he had ‘work’ to do), but there was footage of the pre-game one which he did attend, and much like the photos on Instagram, he appeared a bit tired but otherwise all right – no lost weight or listlessness, no signs that he was pushing himself too hard (for once).

They went to Columbia that weekend, more on Nicky’s insistence than anything. Katelyn tagged along (ever since Halloween weekend Aaron seemed to believe she had a right to go with them and Andrew didn’t care enough to fight over it) and helped the pest clean up the place and run out for some groceries on Saturday, while Andrew spent most of the time in the one recliner reading a book and nursing a bottle of whiskey.

“You’re just wasting your time,” he said at one point when Aaron ran out to pick up Italian for dinner.

“You’re wrong, we’ll be back here next week with your- with the house full of guests,” Nicky insisted while Katelyn continued to dust everything. “As soon as he sees you everything will be all forgiven.”

Andrew needed more alcohol.

The worst thing about it all was the insidious flare of hope inside of him, the faint pulse of anxiousness and warmth and eagerness whenever he thought of Neil. The way he kept checking his phone for any missed texts or calls, for new pictures posted or updates on the Ravens and their captain in particular.

How he took the fact that a burly British goon failing to arrive on campus to break his legs or throw him off the roof meant that Neil wasn’t through with him just yet (unless Bren and Janna were waiting to do it themselves on Thursday).

He _detested_ how Neil had wormed his way inside of him, how one person could make him feel such things, but that was just what the bastard had done. He also detested how he couldn’t text or call Neil to let the little bird know that he was past 100%.

It was a good thing that Andrew didn’t have to worry about his classes because he didn’t pay attention at all on the Thursday of the game against the Ravens; he pulled the hood of his sweatshirt over his head and kept checking his phone all morning long, kept staring at the pictures of Neil smiling at his teammates or glaring at the camera, at the ridiculous filters the younger Ravens used when uploading some of those pictures (the most popular one that day were the flower crowns).

One of the pictures had him wearing a Barons coat with Jean’s name and number on it, which Andrew stared at for several minutes as he attempted to figure out if it was some sort of hidden message or not directed his way. The fans damn near exploded in delight over the picture, adoring anything that tied the two former partners together again, and took it to mean that Neil was all but signed to the Barons as well.

If they only knew.

Word must have gotten out about why Andrew had barely spoken the last two weeks (at least to most people) to the rest of the Foxes, because there were pointed looks directed his way and sniggers from Matheson and Hurst before Aaron shoved the striker into the wall while Nicky and Hayes formed a human barrier in front of Andrew. “The prick’s not worth it,” Hayes told him. “Let your bro handle it.”

“You two are so fucking stupid I can’t deal with it,” White told a scowling Hurst. “Do you honestly think a pro team is going to put up with your shit?”

“Do you think they’re gonna put up with someone like _Minyard_ on their team?” Hurst snapped back as she glanced over at Matheson, who was rubbing his left arm while Aaron stalked away.

“Yeah, because his stats are incredible and he doesn’t start shit, he finishes it. That’s the opposite of you and Jack,” White told her while half the team nodded along.

“Whatever,” Hurst muttered before she went over to commiserate with her fellow asshole.

There was take-out (Chinese) which the team more or less ate together while Wymack and Meg went over the Ravens’ stats and plays for the game once more. The Foxes’ attitude was a bit blasé considering they were assured a spot in the next round and were just trying to keep the point spread down that evening – that and most of the team wanted to see what happened when the Ravens ( _when Neil_ ) arrived.

Wymack had to threaten them with extra laps during practice the following week if they didn’t leave the locker room when Robin took to playing with her phone, a sure sign that Marley was texting her. Andrew was about to follow Nicky and Aaron onto the court when she held up her left hand. “Uhm, wait a minute, okay?”

Hmm, perhaps he was about to have his legs broken after all.

Nicky flashed him a wide grin and a ‘thumbs up’ gesture as he left while Aaron merely shook his head. “If Marley’s coming here to bitch at me, I’m shoving her in a locker,” Andrew promised.

“It’s not that,” Robin said as she took a nervous step back. “Or at least, I don’t think she is.” She gave a faint laugh and seemed intent on putting more space between them when the outer door opened to let in several familiar figures – Bren and Janna (there went the legs), along with a beaming Marley who called out Robin’s name… and a quiet Neil.

He approached Andrew as if uncertain his reaction, dressed in his Ravens uniform and his hair tousled. “Uhm, hi.”

Andrew was quiet for several seconds while Neil shifted about from foot to foot as if uncomfortable. “Am I allowed to talk to you?”

“Well, you just did,” Neil said with a bit of annoyance as he ran his right hand through his hair. “But yeah, you can talk now.”

“About what, I wonder.” Andrew felt a spike of anger at himself for picking a fight with Neil, but he hated how he was torn between pulling his boyfriend close for a desperate kiss and shoving him away so he didn’t have to _feel_.

There was more annoyance in Neil’s expression before he let out a slow breath. “I meant everything I said, dammit, but I’m not here to argue.” The annoyance faded to something uncertain and hurt before it was masked by blankness. “But if _you_ want to, we can meet out on court soon enough to settle things.”

Dammit, this wasn’t what Andrew _wanted_ ; he reached out and when Neil gave a slight nod, wrapped his right hand around the back of his boyfriend’s neck and pulled him forward. “You’re returning to Edgar Allan tonight?” he asked as Neil shuffled closer.

“No, since we’re in the area and our grades are good, we’re going to hit the Charleston near here for a photo shoot and a couple of interviews,” Neil told him. “We’ll spend the night in town and get on the road early in the morning, so uhm, if you still want us to, we can be in Columbia tomorrow evening.”

_If_ Andrew still wanted to spend the weekend with a certain little bird…. By way of an answer, he slid his fingers into Neil’s hair and waited for that ‘yes’ smile before he bridged the space between them for a kiss that made his lips ache from the way their mouths were mashed together at first, from its ferocity and desperation.

It slowly gentled when neither of them pulled away, when Neil didn’t object and shove Andrew aside nor Andrew broke it off. Neil draped his arms over Andrew’s shoulders while Andrew’s left hand settled against the small of his back, as something calmed inside of him to have his boyfriend pressed against him once more.

And then Marley had to go ruin things by banging on a locker.

Neil jumped at the loud sound while Andrew gave her a considering look (she should fit into the metal contraption with a bit of effort), to which the pest grinned. “Now, now, boys, we’ve a game to play. The fun stuff can wait ‘til later, yeah?”

“Where’s my racquet?” Andrew asked as he glanced around.

“Save the violence for the court,” Neil told him as he lightly grasped Andrew’s left wrist. “Channel it into trying to keep her from scoring on your goal. _Trying_.”

“Best stay out of reach, too,” Andrew warned as he gave his smart-ass boyfriend a flat look, which Neil returned for a couple of seconds before he grinned.

“I’ve got a hotel room to myself tonight.”

“I won’t hit you _too_ hard, then.”

Bren sighed as he came up behind them. “Really, would it hurt the two of you to flirt normal for once? You know, without the violence and death threats?”

Andrew and Neil scoffed in unison as they walked out onto court.

Nicky beamed at Andrew and the Vixens broke into a loud cheer ‘for practice’ as Neil gave him a slight wave ‘goodbye’ and went off with Marley and the bodyguards to the other side of the court where the Ravens were warming up; Dan was standing with Wymack and Abby and continued to chat with them for another minute or two, and gave Andrew a wink in passing when she went to join her team as well.

There were several ‘wtf’ looks directed his way as he collected his racquet and half-heartedly joined in the warm-ups, a hushed whisper of ‘the freaks are back together already?’ from Matheson which was met by a loud huff from Nicky.

“ _Of course_ they’re back together,” Nicky proclaimed as he fussed with the orange bandana holding back his hair. “They’re not a pair of loser semi-fuck buddies like the two of you,” he sneered as he waved back and forth between Matheson and an indignant Hurst. “No, my boys and I have the _goods_ , we land prime sweeties and we keep ‘em happy, keep ‘em in committed relationships.”

As one of his ‘boys’, Andrew stood there determining if Nicky was within reach of his racquet while Aaron appeared torn between being offended as hell and smiling at Katelyn.

“We’re not ‘losers’, you-“

Hayes cut off Matheson’s latest tirade by throwing an empty water bottle at the asshole. “Please, you two will stab each other in the back as soon as the recruiters show up next year in an effort to stand out the most. You only care for yourselves.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” Hurst asked.

Andrew walked away rather than listen to the argument and wasn’t that surprised when Wymack joined him after a minute or two. “Some people have to learn things the hard way,” the man said with obvious regret.

“If they learn at all.”

Wymack grunted at that while he watched his motley group of a team argue with each other or start knocking over cones. “More do than they don’t, at least there’s that.” He slanted Andrew a knowing grin. “I would have lost some impressive bets otherwise.”

Andrew gazed back without any apparent emotion before he clicked his tongue. “Abby needs to check you for encroaching Alzheimer’s, old man,” he said before he walked away; all Wymack did was laugh.

He leaned against a wall until it was time to start the game and ignored everyone else, everyone but a certain little bird with the number ‘4’ on the back of their jersey.

Meg won the coin toss and tried to take an early lead for the Foxes, but the Ravens wouldn’t allow that to happen. Andrew shut down the goal as best he could, kept the opposing team to three goals (two of them Neil’s, one Marley’s) in the first half, but Garcia did a better job of blocking Meg and the others so the Foxes couldn’t score at all.

Dan appeared torn between pride in how the Ravens were playing and upset that the Foxes were losing, even if the team wasn’t doing that ‘bad’, relatively speaking. Then again, she knew that the less seasoned Fox players would be out on the court in the second half, that Hayes would take over the goal (and give up points), and that tempers would start to flare soon enough as the Foxes grew tired and frustrated.

As they battered themselves against the seemingly perfect Ravens. Andrew knew that the other team had its flaws, that they were human (that they could fight amongst themselves and become exhausted and mess up), but somehow they rarely ever showed that once out on the court with another team. Tetsuji had fucked them up and fucked them over, but he’d installed one hell of an ethic in them before he’d been replaced.

That ethic saw the Ravens to yet another victory – Neil and Marley sat out the second half for once, content to leave it to Saunders and Khoury to score most of other ten points that contributed to their win. Four of those were against Robin during her ten minutes out in the goal, a rather harsh baptism of fire that was necessary for the girl to suffer through if she was going to move forward in the playoffs.

To give her credit, she trembled as she removed her helmet and her face was flushed, but she held her head up high and gave an uneven smile when White and Nicky patted her on the shoulders after the final buzzer rang out.

Forcing himself to move from the bench, Andrew got up and went back out on court to join everyone for the ‘good game’ handshake (to see Neil, who rejoined his team as well). His boyfriend smiled and leaned forward a little. “ _Check your phone, I should be free in another hour_ ,” Neil said in French before he leaned back in time to avoid a hug from Nicky, who got an elbow in the side from Andrew.

That would give Andrew enough time to shower, change, and put up with Wymack’s ‘you did good even though you lost’ speech then drop off Nicky and Aaron at the dorm. He nodded once then gave Marley the usual finger gesture which she laughed at before he skipped dealing with the rest of the Ravens.

Abby was standing near the entrance to the locker room and smiled at him. “Everything better now?” When he gave a slight shrug, her expression brightened even more. “Rough patches are expected in new relationships, it means you’re mapping out each other’s boundaries and not just pretending that everything’s fine. Things will be better now that you’ve worked this out.”

Why did everyone have to inflict their pathetic relationship advice on him? Andrew clicked his tongue as he tugged on the front of his jersey. “Spare the platitudes for Kevin, he’s the one who needs them the most.”

Abby laughed at that and walked with him into the lounge area of the locker rooms. “I think he needs a professional when it comes to dating advice.”

Andrew gave her a quick salute in acknowledgement on his way to the showers.

As soon as Wymack was finished with his crappy speech and told the team they were done for the night (with practice pushed back to eight in the morning the next day), Meg, Nicky and Kenny closed in on Andrew as he reached into his locker for his leather coat. “We’re back on for the weekend, right?” Nicky asked with an eager expression. “Neil and the others are coming to Columbia?”

“Yes.” Andrew didn’t see the point in dragging things out and being pestered by the pains in the ass.

“ _Yes_!” Nicky did a disturbing little dance that involved him hopping around while he thrust his hips about and waved his hands while Meg let out a cheer. Off to the side, Aaron shook his head and texted on his phone, probably to let the cheerleader know to pack her bags.

“Stop that and come on, let’s go.” Andrew had to pick up a couple of things before he left for the hotel per Neil’s ‘request’.

He stopped at the dorm long enough to pack an overnight bag since he might be going straight to the morning workout at the gym, and grabbed some of the ‘special’ items he’d stocked up on before winter break. On the way to the hotel he hit a store for ice cream and a small bottle of whiskey, and ate the ice cream while waiting for Neil and the others to arrive.

It didn’t take them long; he caught Neil and Bren glancing at the GS on their way inside the building located several miles away from campus (away from prying eyes), and after five minutes there was a text with a room number. Andrew pulled the hood of his long-sleeved t-shirt over his head before he grabbed the bag and exited his car.

The young woman working behind the desk called out a greeting to him when he stepped inside the hotel, but other than that he didn’t run into anyone and was left alone on the way to the sixth floor. He heard the security lock be undone a few seconds after he knocked on the door of 629, then Neil opened it and motioned him inside, a knife held against his right thigh.

Neil had changed into a pair of black sweatpants and the cat hoodie, his hair pushed back from his forehead and feet bare. “Hey,” he said in a quiet voice before he retreated to the room’s king-sized bed; it was a nice room, was rather standard and mid-level, a sign that Neil and the others had picked it for anonymity more than anything. “You didn’t hit me tonight.”

“It’s still young,” Andrew drawled as he set his bag down on the chair near the large bed.

“Promises, promises,” Neil sang out as he tucked his legs beneath him. “Besides, I think I’m owed a hit this time.”

“I thought you got it all out of your system.” Andrew sat down on the bed but left some space between them, his back against the headboard. “You’re still angry with me?”

Neil’s teeth sunk into his bottom lip as he tugged at the cuffs of the hoodie. “I… it’s confusing,” he admitted as he gazed at Andrew. “I’m still unhappy that you gave so much to Ichirou but there’s nothing that can be done now, is there? We just have to make the best of it.”

It probably wasn’t the best time to start drinking. “’The best of it’,” Andrew repeated as he scooted down the bed until he was right in front of the idiot. “We’re making the best of me saving your ass.”

“I didn’t-“

“You didn’t ask me to do it, just like Jean and Marley didn’t ask you to save them,” Andrew pointed out as he fought not to grit his teeth together, to grab onto the stubborn fool and give him a harsh shake. “But we both did just that, so accept it and move on.”

Neil appeared ready to punch him for a moment before he made a low growling noise and reached out to grab onto the front of Andrew’s black shirt instead. “I don’t think I’m going to be in any hurry to save your infuriating ass, just so you know.”

“Good, it means that you won’t go making a stupid bargain on my behalf, one less thing for me to worry about,” Andrew shot back. When the creepy smile began to spread across Neil’s lips, he forced out a slow breath. “Do you want to fight about this?”

That made the smile falter and fade. “No,” Neil admitted as his hold on Andrew’s shirt loosened. “I’m tired of fighting, dammit. I just want you to not keep things from me anymore or to make deals with Ichirou behind my back.”

“Is that all?” When Neil blinked at him, Andrew clicked his tongue. “Is that all you want?” Really, he supposed he could put up with the fanaticism for a stupid stickball sport and occasional homicidal urges (though they had to do something about the early morning workout routines) when Neil asked so little of him. “I’ll agree to that if you do the same.”

“Hmm.” Neil took to nibbling on his lip again as he considered the ‘deal’, and slowly slid his hands up along Andrew’s chest to drape them over his shoulders. “All right, I agree, too. No secrets and no deals with Ichirou for each other without talking to each other first.”

“No deals at all, with him or anyone else,” Andrew reiterated. “We don’t sell ourselves out for the other.” Much simpler to just kill the person giving them grief and handle the fallout together.

“Okay. You better have signed for a decent amount of money in case we have to leave the country in a hurry, though,” Neil said as if thinking along the same lines.

“I did all right.” Andrew wrapped his arms around a mouthy little bird’s waist and pulled him onto his lap. “Enough to suffer through dealing with a dour Frenchie and a cocky bastard like you for years to come.”

Neil grinned at that as his fingers combed through the hair on the back of Andrew’s head, the touch teasing and light enough to make him shiver. “You’re _lucky_ to have Jean and me on your team, you lazy goth asshole. We’ll do all the hard work and keep the ball away from your precious goal.”

He clicked his tongue as he tugged Neil’s hips closer. “But what if I want the ball to reach my goal? Then I have an excuse to throw it at your head. Such fun I’ll have.”

“I’d like to see you put so much effort into a game for once,” Neil taunted, only to moan in delight when Andrew decided there was too much talking going on and kissed him silent before he could say anything else.

He still had his reservations about the whole ‘relationship’ thing and felt that ‘rough patches’ sucked, but as Neil was quick to raise his arms to help with the removal of the cat hoodie, Andrew had to admit that ‘making up’ had its good points. Making up in hotel rooms without his family or Neil’s overprotective friends around was even better.

He was determined to enjoy the moment, the night, as long as possible, before anything (Ichirou, something from their past or one of their myriad issues or… the list was too long) else happened to fuck things up for them.

*******

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *******  
> Ahhh, so good to get a chapter out at last! Many apologies for the wait. 
> 
> Upcoming? I do need to work on the BB fic (still trying to wrap that up, the last few weeks have been insane) and a very short fic I owe, and I've a few things on the work front that have blown up at me, so I HOPE to have something in two weeks but we'll see. At this point I want the BB fic done (it's down in a few weeks) so I can wrap this up. We'll have to see if something happens w/ work to mess that up.
> 
> Seriously, one or two major plot points planned out, but it's SO CLOSE to being done.
> 
> As always, thanks for the comments and kudos!  
> ******


	29. Untitled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Uhm... okay, I'm a bit headachy and stuff to do a chapter summary right now. Stuff happened? Neil found out about Andrew's deal with Ichirou to join the Barons and wasn't happy? That was last chapter, right? Neil wasn't happy and they had a mini-break, but everyone was pro-Andrew and Andrew gave Neil some space to cool down and the boys got back together. Think that's basically it.
> 
> Hmm.
> 
> We're getting close to wrapping up the end of year four. Promise.
> 
> Okay, warnings for this chapter? Some violence and gun usage (if you don't like those things). People die (but only bad people!), nothing graphic. Some possibly offensive language but very brief. Think that's it.  
> *******

*******

Andrew stood against one of the walls in the lounge while Wymack went over the stats for North Dakota’s Fighting Hawk’s yet again, stats which he’d long ago ‘memorized’ so it was a waste of his time. He wasn’t looking forward to the flight the next day, to dealing with a team heavy on the offense (meaning more work for him while he was out on the court), and for a weekend away from Neil.

A weekend away from Neil when the Barons were going to announce a new acquisition to their line-up next season. Since Neil knew about the deal, it didn’t seem important to keep it a secret much longer so the team (meaning Radcliffe and Ichirou) were moving ahead with releasing the fact that Andrew had signed to the Barons.

It was going to be a shitty weekend all around, so Andrew might as well get ‘in the spirit’ already. Bee would probably chide him and point out that he’d spent the past two with Neil, that he was set to graduate with a degree (which he might never use), his family was doing well (and were annoying as fuck), and the Foxes had advanced to the next round in the playoffs (like he gave a damn).

Neil was still headed to New York City after playing Boston University, and Andrew would be stuck with a few jealous assholes when they found out that he’d signed with one of the best teams in the pros.

Meg talked about some tips on how to take advantage of North Dakota’s weak defense then her and Wymack went over the roster for the game once again before the day’s training finally ended, which was fine with Andrew. He didn’t talk to anyone on his way to the shower, just nodded to show that he’d join Nicky and Aaron (and Katelyn and Robin since they were tagging along, too) for dinner at the nearest cafeteria.

Robin rode over with them while Katelyn was already there, and soon enough they were seated at a table. Andrew checked his phone before he started eating to find a message from Neil about how he’d avoided kale for the fourth day in a row and a happy face emoji.

“What’s going on with your non-platonic life partner?” Nicky asked before he had a bite of his pepperoni pizza.

“Don’t call him that,” Andrew said as he set his phone aside then picked up a French fry, which he broke apart before eating.

That order earned him a dramatic eyeroll while Robin and Katelyn shared a grin. “Oh pu- ah, come on, I have to call him _something_! Soon enough you’ll have been together for a year now, and you even got through your first big fight with flying colors! Are you finally going to let us call him your boyfriend?” When Andrew gave him a flat look but didn’t say anything, Nicky broke out into a wide grin. “Yes! _Finally_!”

Andrew flicked half a fry at him. “It’s only to make you stop with the stupid names. Don’t make a bigger deal out of it than it is.”

“What, you actually confirming that you have some sort of relationship with another person? Why would he?” Aaron asked with a snide tone as he finished added ketchup to his hamburger. He sighed when Andrew gave him the finger. “Real mature.”

“Come on, no fighting,” Katelyn pleaded while Robin nodded. “Let’s just agree that it’s a big step and respect Andrew’s wishes, all right?”

Someone was spending a little too much time with Bee, weren’t they? Andrew gave the cheerleader an unimpressed look but didn’t argue since Nicky and Aaron actually shut up.

Everyone was quiet for a couple of minutes while they ate, then Robin cleared her throat. “Uhm, so what are everyone’s plans for spring break?” She made a face as she poked at her pasta dish. “I have to go home, though I’m trying to see if I can meet up with Marley for a day or two before heading back to campus.” There was a flush to her cheeks as she admitted that last part.

“Oh, is it getting _serious_ with the two of you, too?” Nicky teased while Katelyn gave him a gentle punch to the left arm.

“Uhm, no!” Robin exclaimed then shook her head. “I mean… well, it’s so I can check out the Peregrines, there isn’t a pro team back at home and I’d love to see a real game, maybe meet Dana Arnolds in person.” She blushed again as she mentioned the team’s one goalie.

“And Marley’s family, too, I imagine,” Nicky said. “That’s a big step, sweetie. I’m happy for you.”

She ducked her head as a shy smile spread across her face. “Well… Marley’s been explaining to them about the whole ‘asexual’ thing. At first they thought she was coming out to them as a lesbian so we’re not sure how much they really understand, but all they really seem to care about is that she’s happy and found someone at last.”

Something akin to envy flashed across Nicky’s face, probably as he thought about his own parents who hadn’t called since the one November when Luther had tried to get Andrew to the house (when the prick had tried to set things up with _Drake_ ); Aaron had mentioned that Nicky had left them a message about him graduating soon and moving back to Germany, which they had of course ignored – it was clear that as long as he insisted on being a ‘filthy’ homosexual, they wanted nothing to do with him.

That as long as they couldn’t use him to set up Andrew (and Aaron) to be hurt and abused, that they would continue to pretend that they didn’t have a son.

Oh yes, such _good_ Christians there indeed.

“The important thing is they’re trying to understand,” Nicky assured her. “It’s clear they love her.”

“Yeah.” Robin poked at her dinner as she took a deep breath. “I mean, I’m beginning to drop some hints to my parents because it’s not good to surprise them, and while I’m not sure my dad’s figuring it out, I think my mom is, at least that I like a girl. She hasn’t yanked me out of school yet so I think it’ll be okay.”

Katelyn paused in eating her chicken wrap to give her a hug. “It will be, you’ll see. From what you told us, your parents are protective of you but they’re good people.”

“Yeah,” Robin echoed with a little less enthusiasm. “Anyway, that’s my break, what about you guys?”

“Hmm, getting the house ready to go on the market,” Nicky admitted. “You know, hiring strong guys with lots of muscles to come in and do yard work and finish all the repairs while I sit back and watch, it’s going to be _hell_ ,” he said with a leer while he fanned himself.

Aaron’s face twisted in disgust as he dropped the last bite of his hamburger onto his plate. “ _Ew_ , thank you for that mental image, _not_. Does Erik know about your plans?”

“He said to send him pictures of the really hot ones.”

Andrew told himself that he only had about three more months of putting up with Nicky. Three. More. Months.

“Well, _we’re_ going to Chicago,” Katelyn said in a rush as she snagged one of Aaron’s fries. “We need to find an apartment and set up things for when we move there this summer.” She gave Andrew a considering look as she chewed. “Same for you, right? I mean, you’re going to New York?”

He nodded as he finished his fries then picked up half of the grilled cheese sandwich.

“Isn’t it exciting to move to a new city? To look at apartments and make a fresh start of things?” Katelyn smiled as she propped her chin up on her left hand. “A little two bedroom walk up that allows pets.”

“What pets? We’re going to be too busy to have pets,” Aaron argued. “And we don’t need a second bedroom.”

She frowned as she picked up her neglected dinner. “We can get a cat or something, and what if our friends or family visit? The other room can double as an office.”

Aaron argued that it would be a waste of money and that he hated cats, which led to the two of them bickering for the rest of the meal; Andrew munched on his sandwich and enjoyed the entertainment.

He talked to Neil for a few minutes before his boyfriend went to bed. “You’re still stuck with flying this weekend, huh?”

“Fuck you,” Andrew told him as he blew out a plume of smoke.

“Hmm, not this weekend,” Neil shot back with a cocky tone, only to sigh a moment later. “Unfortunately. Maybe next weekend.”

“What’s on the agenda for this one?” Andrew asked as he flicked the cigarette out into the air.

“Checking out a new striker for the team and some Barons event on Friday.” Neil was quiet for a moment. “Some Court officials will be there, so it’ll be good exposure for Jean.”

“And you,” Andrew reminded the junkie, well aware that Ichirou and Radcliffe counted on both of their indebted little birds to make the prestigious team one day (one day soon).

“Yeah, and me,” Neil breathed out. “Rumor is that they’ll be announcing that Day’s made it back onto the US team by the end of the season.”

Andrew clicked his tongue in disgust. “Another thing for him to be unbearable over.”

“You said it, not me.” Neil laughed a little, but he sounded tired, probably at the prospect of a weekend in New York, at being on display and at Ichirou’s side. “You ready for the big announcement?”

“It has to come out sooner or later, and if anyone’s stupid enough to track me down in Columbia, they can put up with Nicky answering the front door.” Not that Andrew believed anyone would bother to do that – bother him at the stadium, yes, especially after games, but not any other time. He was a bit notorious because of his past and his association with Kevin, because of him being a Fox and that he’d helped take part in the team clawing its way to the top of the division, but he wasn’t a star like Kevin or Riko, wasn’t a fan favorite like Neil.

Andrew paged through the Barons' Instagram account while he sat at Eden's on Friday and drank; there were several pictures of Neil and Moreau, never far from each other's side, the two of them appearing mildly bored as they gazed around the large ballroom. There was even a video someone posted of the two of them huddled together and talking in French while a famous model stood a few feet away, utterly oblivious to her presence and how she smiled at them, which fueled speculation on if they were 'just' friends (Andrew forced himself not to comment).

Andrew sat on the back porch with a bottle of beer and a cigarette on Saturday while Nicky fussed with the charcoal grill when his phone began to buzz non-stop.

There was a message from Reynolds about him looking better in blue and gold than orange, from Boyd congratulating him on being picked by a top team (and looking forward to them playing against each other soon), a bunch of frowning emojis from Kevin, 'congratulations and good luck' from Renee... it seemed just about everyone who had his phone number (except his family and Neil) decided to text him about the damn Barons' press release announcing him joining the team next season.

He ended up deleting almost all of them without replying and got up to fetch another beer.

Neil called him later that night. "Since I know you didn't watch the game, figured I'd let you know there were a lot of questions about you joining the team during the post-game interviews."

Andrew clicked his tongue at that bit of nonsense. "And?"

"Some neutral answers of how you'll bring a lot to the team, some more honest ones of how you'll have to earn your spot, and Jean commented that he hopes you don't get lost in the goal now that you won't be wearing such bright orange. Maybe they can put reflective tape on your or something." A hint of humor crept into his tired voice at that last bit.

"Ha, ha," Andrew remarked in an emotionless manner. "How soon can we trade Moreau to the Sirens?" That should make Kevin happy.

"Yeah, the two of you are going to get along smashingly," Neil 'agreed'. "Anyway, there seems to be a lot of interest in you being a Baron. Better brush up on your interview skills."

"I've already got it all planned out - 'I block the ball, I'm a goalie, it's what I'm paid to do'", Andrew intoned in an almost robotic voice.

"They're going to adore you."

"Hmm." He waited a moment to see if Neil said anything else then huffed. "Anything happen tonight other than Moreau being an asshole?"

"No, there were always people around." Neil was quiet as if thinking about something. "Stuart's been busy taking care of stuff, so Jamie's here a lot and Ichirou's been distracted. I was supposed to do some work tomorrow, but Ichirou's leaving for the West Coast instead so I can return to campus early."

Andrew would take that as a good sign. "Should I get a ticket for the weekend?" They were playing Vermont at home that week, with another away game in Arizona the following week.

"I think so, Jamie said that he should be out there for the next week or two."

He'd check with Bren before he bought one, but it sounded like Andrew would be back in West Virginia soon enough. “Try to contain yourself while around a celebrity, all right?” he drawled.

It was so amusing when Neil went off in several different languages like that, spouting curses at a rapid pace, then hung up without returning to English.

Andrew _hoped_ that he’d be back in West Virginia next weekend.

Bren texted him on Sunday morning to let him know to go ahead and get the tickets, along with the fact that he had a death wish (the latter ruined with a smiley face emoji). He took that to mean that Neil had needed a little time to ‘cool down’ and had probably asked to borrow the bastard’s gun again, and had better been denied.

It appeared quiet when they returned to campus on Sunday afternoon, but there was a message on Andrew’s phone waiting for him after his practice with Meg. He left her to work with Robin and went up to the roof to call Wymack, already suspicious about why his coach wanted to talk to him.

“If Kevin managed to elope with Muldani, I don’t give a shit,” he said when Wymack answered the return call.

“Right,” Wymack snorted in amusement. “Abby spent half an hour with him the other day picking out a decent restaurant – he wanted to take her to some awful vegan place because of some super protein dish they had. I don’t care if they’re both athletes and building lean muscle, you don’t treat your date to a fancy dinner of tofu unless it’s a serious life choice.”

After living with the one vegan family for a couple of months, Andrew didn’t consider it a viable choice at all – he didn’t want to look at tofu again after all the soggy, bland pieces he’d eaten, all the mushy vegetables from their garden since they wouldn’t waste the money on nice grocery items when it came to him.

(For the longest time he’d thought his lack of height had been because of the horrible diets he’d suffered through while growing up, and then he’d met Aaron. Which might not be the best argument for genetics when one took Tilda’s terrible parenting skills into account, but….)

“Anyway,” Wymack said after a few seconds of uncomfortable silence. “The Barons made the announcement and my phone’s been ringing with questions about you and the contract. All I’ve said is that they’re damn lucky to have a goalie like you on their team.” When Andrew remained quiet, Wymack huffed a little. “Yeah, _that_ right there is why I’m calling. The Board is ecstatic – another Fox got drafted to the pros and one of the top teams at that? It makes the program that much more valuable and easier to promote. That and our games are guaranteed to be sold out for the rest of the season now, thanks to the publicity.” He paused to take a drag from a cigarette then huffed. “And you don’t give a shit, do you?”

“Get to the point,” Andrew said as he shook out his own cigarette. “Or is it the senility making you ramble on?”

“I am counting down the days until graduation, you shitty little demon,” Wymack grumbled. “Prepare your maggot ass for reporters being at the stadium tomorrow.” Then the line went dead.

Not unexpected, but annoying as hell; Andrew entertained himself by flipping through the numerous pictures of Neil he had on his phone while he smoked before he went downstairs for the night.

The interviews were just as annoying as he’d suspected, but it got him out of practice for an hour or so while he stared down the reporters and refused to smile for pictures. He was asked about his thoughts on playing with former ‘rivals’ (meaning Moreau and what looked to be Neil in another year), to which he said that he didn’t give a damn, if he was excited about moving to New York City (it was just another place to live) and what it would be like to face off against former Foxes (that might actually be perk in his opinion).

It was stupid and boring and something he didn’t look forward to doing all the time during his pro career; he didn’t know how Neil suffered through the things game after game and was beginning to understand why his boyfriend was such a mouthy little bastard to the press after some of the questions.

Neil called him later that night, sounding tired from a long day of practice. “Wow, I think the reporter from Exy News was about to snap if you said ‘I’m so excited’ as if you were talking about getting a root canal done just one more time. A shame you didn’t and went with ‘I can’t hardly wait, oh yay’ instead.”

“I was screaming with joy on the inside,” Andrew said in a deadpan manner. “Or merely screaming. Something like that.”

“Hmm, I’m sure you were. You really should try to dial it back a little more, don’t want to overwhelm the poor fans.”

“Oh, yes, I live in fear of that happening,” Andrew drawled.

“Yes, yes, I always said you were such a giver.”

Something was wrong, Neil was trying too hard, was being a bit too clever that night with his chirps and tweets. “What is it?” Andrew asked, and clicked his tongue when Neil was quiet. “You know how this goes.” When the other end of the line remained quiet, his suspicions deepened. “Where’s Marley?”

“Probably two minutes away from dragging me back to the room,” Neil admitted. “I’m still out on court.” The exhaustion in his voice deepened as he switched to German. “ _I’ve had to work on some translations earlier, okay? Someone’s unhappy with how powerful Ichirou’s becoming_.”

Andrew’s left hand clenched into a fist as he thought about Neil having to deal with that shit, how Ichirou ensured that he was tied to the Moriyamas forever one way or another. “ _I thought he wasn’t going to be on the East Coast this weekend. Don’t tell me_ -“

“ _No, it’s still all right_ ,” Neil hurried to assure him. “ _It’s why I have to do this now. Marley and a few others are helping me out as much as they can with my classes so I don’t fall behind_.”

“Then get off the damn court and go to sleep,” Andrew told his idiot. “Worry about your GPA and not playing a stupid stickball game for once, and I’ll see you on Saturday.”

“You just want me to slack off so you have a pathetically slim chance of winning,” Neil tried to taunt him, but ended up ruining it by yawning (that and Andrew didn’t give a damn about Exy). “Uhm, okay, good night.”

Andrew grunted in response before he hung up, then texted Marley to tell her to make Neil do his own homework rather than let him exhaust himself out on the court. She sent back that he slept better when he got the night practice in so shut up and thank her for helping his boyfriend to pass that semester.

He almost sent back that he was helping _her_ girlfriend not suck at being a goalie but it meant that he was engaging in some sort of ongoing conversation with the pest and that was too much effort as well as beneath his dignity.

There were several texts exchanged with Neil during the week to make sure the idiot did get some rest (along with Bren that things were set up for the weekend and that Neil didn’t spend all his time translating).

Dealing with the care and well-being of an idiot martyr bird long-distance aside, the week went by quickly and the Foxes won against Vermont on Thursday; they weren’t in as good as shape as previous years but they were still one of the stronger teams in the play-off season because of half the team’s experience and the training that Meg and Wymack pushed on the rest of them. They weren’t the Ravens or the Trojans, but the Foxes would survive without Kevin and Andrew, would continue to thrive now that they had tasted victory and weren’t known as the division’s losers.

Which was good, because Andrew was counting down his games with the team, was ticking off each week in anticipation on walking away from PSU.

It wasn’t ideal, playing for the Barons, but it should allow him more time to see Neil, especially in little more than a year.

Saturday morning he boarded the plane (the flight crew hailing as a regular) which would take him to Charleston, where Janna picked him up at the airport and drove him to Edgar Allan. The Ravens were out on the court for their morning practice; Neil and Marley were once more at each other’s throats during a scrimmage, and it looked as if Noguchi was working the freshmen into play. Yet once the buzzer sounded, the two starting strikers tugged off their helmets and smiled at each other before Marley shoved Neil toward the locker rooms.

Dan came over after a couple of minutes, apparently done talking to Noguchi about training or other Exy stuff. “More Moriyama b.s. going on, huh?” she asked Andrew in a quiet voice once she reached where he was sitting in the stands. “He’s been all squirrelly on me when I ask what’s wrong, which is never a good sign.”

Andrew gave her a cool look for a moment before he shrugged, the moment slight. “He’ll get a break now.”

“I hope so.” Then she grinned. “How upset was Kevin about you signing with the Barons?” She laughed when he gave her the finger. “I bet he wanted you to sign with the Sirens, right?” He didn’t need to say anything to that since she knew the Exy addict well enough. “It’s going to be interesting, next season.” She gazed out across the court to where Neil was leaving the locker room with a bag for the weekend slung over his left shoulder. “Even more so in another year. It’s good that he’ll have you at his back.”

“Call Wymack,” Andrew told her as he got up. “Let him tell you about how Matheson seems to think he should be able to pick one of the new recruits.”

Dan laughed at that. “Oh, I can’t wait to hear that story. Have fun, you two!” She waved to them as Andrew went down to join Neil.

“Hmm, really? That’s new,” Neil remarked as they headed into the tunnel which would lead out into the parking lot.

“Coach started talking about recruits this past week, and thanks to Kevin blabbing about me ‘getting’ a pick, Matheson seems to think everyone’s entitled to one.” Matheson was wrong about that, just like he was wrong about many things – such as that he had a chance of being recruited by a team like the Barons in the future.

“Can only imagine the asshole he’d pick,” Neil muttered as they reached the Maserati. “At least you don’t have to put up with him for much longer.”

“No, I just have to put up with a prissy French bastard,” Andrew said as he slid behind the wheel of Maserati; he really had to look into upgrading the GS in the near future.

Neil glared when he figured out the reference. “Very funny.”

“No, it’s tragic,” Andrew insisted. “I’m trying to figure out how I can box him up and send him off to Houston so Kevin can deal with his snotty ass.”

“I can’t believe I’m going to miss out on watching Jean deal with someone else being the most annoying person on the team,” Neil mused before he sipped his tea, his attention fixed on Andrew. “Maybe one of the other players can film Jean when he tears into you.”

Andrew shoved his hand in the idiot’s face and told him to stop staring, which made Neil laugh and comment on how much his ex-partner would ‘love’ lazy goths while pointedly gazing straight ahead for the rest of the drive to the cabin.

Once they were settled in the small building (their bags dropped in the one bedroom, the place locked up and a fire started to help warm it up some more), Neil smiled that damn ‘yes’ smile of his as Andrew pulled him close for a kiss. Andrew bunched his hands in the soft material of the PSU sweatshirt which Neil wore while Neil wrapped his arms around Andrew’s shoulders, the two of them content to be near each other and do little more than drink each other in and savor the other’s warmth until Andrew’s stomach rumbled.

“Breakfast,” he said after he nipped at his boyfriend’s full bottom lip. Or brunch, whatever. They both needed something to eat.

“Hmm, I suppose.” Neil gave Andrew’s biceps an appreciative squeeze before pulling away. “What are you making today?”

Andrew settled on egg sandwiches with cheese, bacon and spicy mayo, which he made while Neil sat on the counter while drinking black tea and smiling. There were still smudges of shadows around his pale blue eyes but Marley had made him skip the extra practice the night before and get some sleep, that and he was caught up on his homework (or his teammates had helped catch him up on his homework).

There wasn’t any mention of the ‘special’ work he did for Ichirou.

He teased Andrew about his love for carbs and how much ‘fun’ he was going to have when he met the Barons’ dietician, seemingly over the whole ‘you’re an asshole for signing with the Barons’ at last. They had made up the one weekend, but the Barons topic had still been a little sensitive that night in Palmetto and then their time together afterward.

Not that they couldn’t find something else to talk about. Or not talk about, once they got away from the others and up in Andrew’s room, or the following weekend at the cabin.

Other than Neil’s teasing about his diet, there wasn't much talk about Exy; Andrew had enough about it during the past week, especially with the news release. Instead, once breakfast was finished they debated what supplies to take for survival if one was limited to what could fit into a normal backpack. Neil favored medical supplies and something to help with the elements, certain he could forage for food and improvise weapons (or run and hide, most likely), while Andrew leant toward weapons and a book or two for entertainment, certain he could then manage the rest of the necessities somehow. It made for an interesting afternoon as they sat together on the couch, the small cabin warmed by the fire and the fact that they shared a blanket.

“I still say a gun’s not going to do you much good if you’re too sick or starved to shoot straight,” Neil argued. “That and what happens when you run out of bullets?”

“And you can’t hunt or forage if someone’s caved your fool head in.” Andrew gave a light push to Neil’s left cheek. “You need something for protection.”

“You can usually improvise things like that.” A wicked smile curved Neil’s lips as he inched forward. “Besides, who’s defenseless?” he murmured as he came close enough for Andrew to feel his breath. “Yes?”

There was a tightness in Andrew’s chest as he tugged the idiot onto his lap. “Yes,” he breathed out and parted his lips – only for that breath to hitch when Neil gave a gentle bite to the tip of his nose. “What the _fuck_?” He wrapped his arms around a laughing birdy’s waist as he tipped forward. “You bastard.”

“See!” Neil sputtered as he sprawled out beneath Andrew on the couch, those long legs of his wrapped around Andrew’s hips. “Su-surprise attack!”

“Suicide attack, more like it,” Andrew proclaimed before he leaned in to wipe away that ridiculous grin; he swore that Neil giggled a little when first kissed and then moaned as his arms slid over Andrew’s shoulders.

Unlike earlier, that time they weren’t satisfied with ‘just’ a kiss; the blanket was pushed aside and clothes were shed to the floor, skin was bared to be touched and tasted. There might be doubts later, doubts and concerns over how easy it was to tumble into desire and _want_ when Neil chased after kisses and arched into every caress, every stroke of his fingers and roll of his hips. When Andrew’s name was murmured with such need while Andrew lost himself in the feel of Neil’s pulse racing beneath his lips and limbs wrapped vice-like around him and body shuddering beneath him and-

Knowing that he wasn’t alone in falling fathoms deep with no bottom in sight made it somewhat bearable, made the damn _emotions_ somewhat tolerable.

It didn’t mean that he wanted to hurt Neil (again), that he was going to allow him to be hurt again. It just meant that he’d have to do better in the future.

After they shower together in one of the bathrooms and got dressed, Neil texted Bren while Andrew went to fetch the gun stored in the safe hidden away in the larger bedroom’s closet.

“Let’s see if you can hit something today,” Bren teased as he and Janna joined Andrew and Neil outside.

“Like a British asshole?” Andrew asked before he adjusted the sound mufflers over his ears then checked the safety on the gun.

Bren laughed at that then motioned to the bits of colored wood set off in the distance before he put on his hearing protection as well; Neil and Janna already had theirs on and stood out of the way. Once Bren went over to Janna’s side, Andrew raised the gun and began to shoot.

He hit most of the targets, which wasn’t bad; it wasn’t like he was trying to win any awards for marksmanship, just be comfortable with the weapon and know how to use it. Chances were that if he did have to shoot someone, they’d be a hell of a lot closer than the targets Bren or someone else had set up, and if Andrew was a decent shot at twenty yards? He was willing to bet he’d be more than efficient at ten feet or less.

Bren set the targets up once more for Andrew, and he did a little better the second time. Then it was Neil’s turn, and the little shit managed to hit each one without any apparent effort. Andrew knew it was because of Neil’s mother teaching him how to shoot several years ago, of all those years on the run and having to defend himself… but it was still a bit galling to be bested so easily.

They went in after Neil emptied the clip since it was cold out and threatened to rain soon, content with that bit of target practice for the weekend; they didn’t want to attract too much attention with the noise and being outside. Bren said something to Janna about making a pot of hot toddies as they headed to their cabin while Neil offered to put on some coffee for Andrew while he cleaned the gun then put it in the nightstand for the rest of the weekend.

Neil picked a movie at random to watch (Indiana Jones) and so got caught up a little more on pop culture before they made dinner (spaghetti and turkey meatballs with garlic bread). That time they talked about Moreau (not Andrew’s favorite topic but still better than Exy) and how his relationship with Knox was progressing. “I guess Jeremy sent him flowers the next day after they did some… stuff.” There was a hint of red on Neil’s cheeks as he stared at his plate for a couple of seconds. “Jean ranted for a good ten minutes over it, but we could tell he wasn’t that angry.”

“Knox is a lovesick moron,” Andrew declared as he grabbed another slice of garlic bread.

Neil smiled in agreement. “Yeah, but he’s good for Jean. He lets Jean set the pace, treats him right and doesn’t care when Jean flares up at him like that. He gets that Jean needs to be defensive after everything.” There was an odd mixture of darkness and tenderness in Neil’s pale eyes as he thought about his partner and everything they’d endured at the Nest. “But no more flowers, at least like that.”

“And what about you?” Andrew asked after he tossed a bit of bread into his mouth.

“Hmm?” Neil gazed at him as he twirled pasta around his fork. “The flowers?” he guessed when Andrew remained silent. “No, I don’t want any and especially for something like that.” When Andrew continued to eat without saying anything, Neil sighed and set his fork down. “Uhm, okay… is this about us?”

Maybe not so much an idiot.

There was another sigh as Neil tried again. “You making that deal with Ichirou aside and not telling me about the Barons aside,” he refused to look away when Andrew’s eyes narrowed over bitching about that _yet_ again, “I’m happy. I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t. What about you?”

‘Happy’ wasn’t something Andrew was used to ‘feeling’… but he felt a sense of rare contentment when he was with Neil. “I _want_ to be here,” he settled on, and Neil seemed to accept it for the important thing it was.

It fell on Neil to do the dishes after dinner, then they sat down on the couch while Andrew had some ice cream and Neil a cup of tea, that time their discussion about how Renee had decided to leave the Peace Corps and join Reynolds in Paris – she was going to work there for a woman’s shelter. Neil admitted to Andrew that he’d talked to Renee during their ‘break’ and reminisced a little about when he and his mother had lived in France.

Once the ice cream was gone, Andrew asked ‘yes or no’ then slid his fingers into tousled auburn curls, tasted a hint of spice from the tea as Neil returned the kiss with a fervor that once again put any lingering doubts to rest. When fingers began to tug and pinch at clothes in silent queries, Andrew broke off the kiss so they could move to the bedroom.

“Uhm, I brought the stuff,” Neil admitted with the return of that slight blush. “If you want to….”

So had Andrew, and he did ‘want to’, so their clothes were left on the floor by the bed (and knives/armbands on the nightstand) which they sprawled out upon, Neil beneath Andrew as he took his time preparing his boyfriend; he savored every sound Neil made as he worked him open and toward the edge with his mouth and fingers, every tremble and hitched breath and desperate sigh of his name, the sight of Neil stretched out before him so trusting and wanting and gorgeous.

When Neil’s hoarse voice took on a particular demanding note, Andrew pulled away and slid on a condom, more than a little desperate then himself for the next part, to sink inside of Neil with one slow, steady thrust that had him biting into his bottom lip to keep from making a sound while his boyfriend shivered and tightened around him.

Neil was like a damn octopus, was arms and legs and just… Andrew couldn’t think when all he felt was _Neil_. The intense burn of desire and pleasure, the light stroke of hands along his shoulders and through his hair, long and lean thighs gripping his hips as he thrust faster and deeper, as an awful, wonderful tension continued to build and build.

A slight groan slipped free when Neil shuddered beneath him, body clenched even tighter around him as Neil came with stuttered gasps; Andrew muffled the next groan against his boyfriend’s neck several thrusts later as he finally gave in to the tumultuous emotions inside of him, as he let that awful tension snap.

“Hmm… okay, maybe flowers would be nice after something like that,” Neil said, his voice a little slurred as if tired or drunk.

“Go pick them yourself,” Andrew told the idiot as he sat up with a faint wince, then gave a smiling Neil a light smack on the left hip for being such a smart-ass.

Exhausted from the week's practices and the stress inflicted upon him by Ichirou, Neil fell asleep once they washed off and lay back down on the bed while Andrew smoked a cigarette and read a little. He was debating having another cigarette, his e-book in one hand and fingers of the other combing through Neil's still-damp hair when the quiet hum of appliances and the cabin's small furnace cut off, which made him pause and Neil - a light sleeper - to twitch twice then freeze.

Neil opened his eyes while Andrew set the e-book aside and slowly shifted on the bed. "Power?" he whispered when Andrew leaned over him.

"Yes." Power that wasn't coming on despite the fact that the cabins had back-up generators and the rain which had moved through the area hadn't been heavy enough to knock down the power lines.

Neil reached for the nightstand as well, until Andrew gave him a flat look and slight shake of the head as he opened the drawer; the idiot frowned but reached for one of Andrew's armbands instead.

Since they'd both gone to bed dressed in sweats and t-shirts, they stood up and began to inch toward the bedroom door (with Andrew in front, gun held in front of him with the safety off but still pointed at the floor). They'd almost reached the door when they heard a slight scuffling sound out in the main room, which made Andrew nudge Neil behind him a little more with his left elbow before he began to open the door as quietly as possible.

Neil pressed against his back as closely as he could without affecting his movements, and so was able to jerk Andrew aside when something (a bullet?) hit the wall to the left of Andrew's head.

"Damn, he really is a short bastard," someone drawled, their voice deep and rough as if from smoking too many cigarettes.

Neil, a knife clutched in his right hand, stiffened as if he recognized the voice; they'd taken shelter behind the smaller couch for the moment, which wouldn't last long since the room was too open and Andrew counted two men from the sounds of their footsteps.

"Come out, Junior, and we'll make it quick. Well, quicker," the same voice from before taunted as the footsteps grew closer. While the asshole talked, Neil crouched down lower and crawled toward the one end of the couch, a knife now held in his left hand as well, while Andrew leaned back a little to cover a wider area. "You know this won't-" The asshole, a tall man in his mid to late thirties with dark hair, let out a scream when Neil jammed a knife into his right foot then followed with another around his crotch.

Andrew watched long enough to make sure that his boyfriend didn't do something stupid like get shot or killed and then used the abbreviated screams as a distraction to shoot asshole number two, who was about to charge the couch. As expected, a couple of shots to the chest did just fine in dropping a would-be attacker, though the gun was noisy as hell without any mufflers worn for protection.

His ears were still ringing and Neil had just stood up, hands a mess but appearing in one piece, when Bren and Janna stumbled into the open front door of the cabin with weapons drawn, splattered with blood and barely dressed - they appeared to be sharing a set of pajamas.

"They dead?" Bren asked (more like shouted, the sound a bit muffled since Andrew's hearing being messed up) as he approached with the gun lowered.

"Think so," Neil said as he kicked the guy sprawled out at his feet; Andrew stood on his tiptoes to peer over his boyfriend's shoulder to see both that the guy didn't react at all and was lying in a huge pool of blood.

Huh, femoral arteries bled out fast as hell.

"This one's gone, too," Janna said as she stood up from checking the pulse of the guy Andrew had shot; at least Bren’s pajama top was big enough on her to cover the important parts.

"Any idea who they are?" Andrew asked as he set the gun down on the one end table.

Neil surprised him by answering the question, and with the answer itself. "My father's people." He gave the one dead guy's leg another kick before stepping around the spreading puddle on the floor. "That's Romero Malcolm."

"Yeah, Janna managed to keep one of 'em alive back in the other cabin, it's what took us a minute to get here," Bren explained. "Figured you guys could take care of things that long." He gave Andrew a pointed look while he spoke.

"Stuart warned me that they didn't get everyone when they took down my father," Neil continued as he went to rub at his face then seemed to think better of it. "Just... just never thought it would take them this long to do something about me."

Janna went over to give him a loose hug. "I'm willing to bet they threw their lot in with whoever's giving Ichirou grief right now. Why don't you go wash off, okay?"

"Both of you," Bren insisted. "Clean up then pack up, we're getting out of here as soon as possible."

Neil grimaced as he stepped away from Janna, his expression quickly turning into something similar to regret as he glanced around the main room. "It was such a nice place," he sighed as he headed to the one bedroom.

It took Andrew a moment to realize that they probably wouldn’t come back once they left, not if someone had tracked them down and attacked them (attacked _Neil_ ) there. He followed his little bird into the bathroom and shed his clothes, then joined Neil in the shower after waiting for a quick nod.

“We’ll figure something else out,” he said. “Maybe take over Dan’s place and make her spend the weekends with Matt.”

That wrung a smile from Neil as he washed the blood from his hands. “Maybe. Or we can try to rent a room somewhere.” Once they were clean, he held up the bar of soap and offered to help wash Andrew, who nodded in approval. “I just… I hate how it seems that whenever there’s something good in my life, somehow my father takes it away.” He gave a bitter laugh as he stared in the direction of Andrew’s chest. “He’s not even alive and he still manages to do that.”

Andrew ran wet fingers through Neil’s hair, which needed washed as well. “All that happened was that we’re giving up a place with no fast food or Starbucks anywhere near it and no decent cable or internet, either. You’re lucky I’ve put up with it this long.”

Neil’s smile strengthened as his hands rubbed along Andrew’s upper chest. “Ah, I see – my attempted murder worked out for you in the end.”

Andrew clicked his tongue while his fingers tightened in Neil’s hair. “Only negative would have been if they’d killed you since that would have deprived _me_ of the fun of it.”

“Can’t have that, can we?” Neil continued to smile as Andrew pulled him down for a kiss, one they kept brief since he had no illusions about Bren barging into the damn bathroom to see what was taking so long and he’d left the gun in the other room, dammit.

They left their discarded clothes behind and dressed in something warm and blood-free, then packed their things to leave. Someone had put on a pot of coffee and brewed some tea while they cleaned up, and Janna had gone to change into jeans and a sweater as well as brought a sweatshirt over for Bren, who was checking the pockets of Romero Malcolm while sipping from a mug of coffee.

“You guys head on out of here,” Bren told them. “I’ll meet up with you inna bit.” He glanced at Neil then gave Andrew another pointed look as if to say that he didn’t want Neil around the cabin anymore.

“If this is about you wanting to be alone with the dead bodies just come out and say it,” Andrew told him as he opened the fridge to fetch some milk for his coffee. “I already have such a low opinion of you that it won’t change things that much.”

Bren gave Neil a look of long suffering. “You _really_ couldn’t find someone else other than this pain in the arse? I mean, half the damn team would take his place in a moment, something to consider while we’re disposing bodies and all.”

In the process of refilling his traveling mug with the tea Janna had probably brewed for him, Neil paused and blinked in obvious confusion. “What? The team? _My_ team? Uhm… I think my ears are still messed up from the gunshots or something.”

Andrew gave Bren the finger while he grabbed a bag of cookies to hold him over until they reached wherever. “Come on, time to leave him to his _fun_.”

“No one’s gonna notice one more-“

“ _No_ , Bren,” Janna said as she grabbed her own travel mug and followed the two of them out the door, only pausing to give Bren a kiss on the cheek. “Be good.”

“That’s no fun,” Bren mumbled, but he didn’t say anything else, possibly because Andrew had picked up his gun along the way; he wasn’t worried about the knives that Neil had used on the one guy, not when he’d just have the bodyguards get him new ones in time for his next visit.

Janna grabbed a small bag from the other cabin, where there were two dead bodies on the floor and an unconscious man restrained to a kitchen chair with over a dozen zip ties. “Someone will be here soon to help Bren,” she told them. “Until then, we’re getting you out of here.”

They were getting _Neil_ out of there, in case more people showed up to help out, or someone got curious. Neil couldn’t risk a scandal along the lines of being found at a cabin filled with a bunch of dead gangsters, not when it would both ruin any hopes of a career he had and have the FBI throw him into custody in a heartbeat.

Neil, the person who spent how many nights and weekends translating conversations and documents for Ichirou Moriyama.

The three of them climbed into the Maserati and drove out away from the cabins with Janna providing directions to another safe house about forty minutes away – a converted farm house on a couple of acres so they could see anyone approach from all directions.

The adrenalin rush from the attack was fading when they arrived, with Neil all droopy-eyed and Andrew feeling a bit fuzzy-headed despite the coffee and cookies. He kept Neil with him while he and Janna checked out the house to ensure that it was empty, then picked a bedroom on the second floor with a queen-sized bed and thick curtains in the windows so he could get some sleep.

“I’m not helpless,” Neil argued as he pulled off the PSU sweatshirt. “Stop coddling me.”

“I watched you kill someone, I don’t think you’re helpless,” Andrew said as he sat down on the bed; after a moment’s hesitation, Neil joined him. “You recognized him right away, did you know him?” He’d been curious about that since Neil had been so quick to identify the man, and wouldn’t complain if the answer distracted a certain little bird from the whole ‘coddling’ thing.

Neil sighed as he slumped against Andrew’s left side. “Romero Malcolm, one of my father’s top lieutenants,” he said in a quiet voice as his hands pulled the duvet over their laps then picked at the soft fabric. “He had a sister who worked for my father as well, Lola, but she died when my uncle and his people attacked the house in Baltimore.” He was quiet for a moment while his fingers continued to fuss with the pale blue and white duvet. “Both of them were always around when I was growing up, always there to drop off things or convey messages or to watch his back. There to watch over my mother, too, and Lola had begun to teach me how to fight with knives in the last year or so before my mom took me and ran away.” A slight shiver ran through his body as he thought about that. “She was more clever about how she went about hurting me while Romero would just lash out with his fists.”

Andrew felt his own hands clench into fists at the thought of anyone hurting a young Neil (Nathaniel), at his boyfriend hearing that voice tonight and remembering all those years of inflicted pain. He also remembered Neil telling him that some of the numerous scars along his body had been inflicted upon him by his father’s people. “Did he cut you? Either of them?”

“Yeah, Lola a couple of times during practice and once while on the run, and I’m pretty sure that Romero was the one who shot me,” Neil confessed as he rested his head against Andrew’s shoulder, his body unusually tense. “Look, I didn’t mean for you to get dra-“

“Shut up,” Andrew told him, having a feeling for where things were headed. “I’ve been involved with Moriyama shit ever since I agreed to protect Kevin. I’ve already killed someone so tonight wasn’t a big deal.” He’d killed Tilda to protect Aaron, so some nameless criminal shot in order to keep Neil safe didn’t bother him at all. “Even if I believed in something as stupid as regret, which I don’t, I wouldn’t be upset about anything that happened tonight.” He reached over to give Neil’s forehead a light tap. “Other than not leaving your dead body behind to be buried somewhere in those woods by Bren.”

“Ha, ha.” Still, Neil relaxed a little against him upon hearing that. “I take great delight in the fact that when you finally do kill me, you’re going to have to get rid of my body yourself.”

“I’ll figure out some way to lure you to a remote place and leave your broken corpse there,” Andrew promised. “Or something involving a bunch of hungry, feral animals.”

“Hmm, that sounds interesting. At least my death will have a meaning, chow for some poor starved rats,” Neil murmured as he rubbed his cheek against Andrew’s shoulder, a sure sign of him falling asleep soon.

“You’ve got issues, Josten,” Andrew said (yet again) as he moved to turn off the light, which prompted a displeased groan from his boyfriend.

“Says the lazy asshole who can’t think of a really good way to kill me.” Neil frowned as they lay down together, the expression smoothing out as Andrew pressed against his back. “Marley would melt my lungs.”

“Go to sleep,” Andrew ordered, done with insane little birds for the day.

Bee could probably write a dozen papers on Neil, not that she’d ever get the chance. Hmm, something to taunt her with the next time she bought the crappy hot chocolate blend.

Andrew only managed to get a little sleep the rest of the night, between the strange room and the thought of someone storming into it at any point. He supposed that Neil was more used to the situation after all those years on the run (and in the Nest with Riko), had learned to shut down and get the necessary rest whenever he could (unless his doubts and fears and demons interfered).

He supposed that Neil had learned to sleep when he had someone he trusted watching his back, and hated that damn tingling sensation in his chest at the thought, wanted to wake up a sleeping little bird and tell him 120%.

There was coffee and take-out for breakfast when they woke up, when a jittery Bren (too much caffeine, probably) told Neil that he was expected back at the Nest. "Sorry to cut things short, but Stuart wants you back safe out of reach."

Neil scowled at his breakfast sandwich and would have set it down except that Andrew nudged his hand back up. "I'm not surprised, but I'd hoped for a few more hours." He gave Andrew an apologetic smile. "Can you change your flight? That or you can stay at the Nest until it's time to leave."

"I'm not going to play Exy," Andrew warned, having a feeling where a certain junkie was headed. "I'm sure I can catch an earlier flight out." If not, that's why airports had several bars.

Neil's scowl resumed as he bit into the sandwich while Janna laughed.

"Don't go breaking his heart first thing in the morning," she teased, which earned her a narrow look. "Let's get going."

They took the food and drinks with them on the road, and Neil used Andrew's phone to look up a flight change while he drove. "You’re playing Arizona next week," Neil said as he held up the phone for Andrew to approve a flight in almost four hours - plenty of time for them to get back to Edgar Allan and then him to the airport. "We’ll be in Kansas and then I’ll leave for New York, but I’ll have to see how much I’ll be able to get away from the apartment and Ichirou now that this happened."

Meaning that Neil wouldn’t have much of a spring ‘break’ because of last night. "There can't be that many more of your father's people out there." Andrew would call Bren later to find out what was going on, after the man got some sleep.

"No, but the remnants are backing someone powerful."

Andrew gave Neil an intent look for a couple of seconds before he resumed staring at the road ahead, which made his boyfriend sigh; Neil had always been reticent to bring up anything to do with Ichirou's business. "They're just... they're someone Kengo clashed with a time or two and probably thought that Ichirou wouldn't be a problem because of his youth and inexperience." A blank expression came over Neil's face as he rubbed the spot where the damn medallion usually hung against his chest - the medallion he always removed when he spent time with Andrew (which Andrew knew he always put back on once back at the Nest). "They pushed Ichirou and Ichirou shoved back and now it's like this. I guess no one should be surprised that those remnants of my father's organization joined with them, not when they all see Ichirou as a common enemy."

"Is something going on that they're trying to take him down now?" Andrew asked as he checked to make sure that Janna and Bren were still behind them.

"Not really," Neil shrugged as he ran a finger along the faint scar on the right side of his face. "Ichirou dealt with the internal issues and has basically consolidated everything. His organization is only getting stronger at this point, he's pulling in more and more allies, so if they want to stop him...."

Now was the time to do it. Ichirou had done what he could to negate Neil as a weak point (other than to outright eliminate him), but whoever this rival was (Andrew noticed that Neil and the bodyguards were being careful not to name them/him/her, possibly to protect him. Possibly) had decided that Neil was still vital enough to strike. That or he was a way to appease Nathan Wesninski's people, a sacrifice to seal an allegiance.

Andrew didn't care, Neil was his to protect and he wouldn't fail in that duty.

Neil changed the subject to ask how Robin was doing, which earned him another intent look until he smiled and asked Andrew instead if he thought about any particular new brand of car. Appeased with the topic change, Andrew discussed paddle shifters and horse power and a bunch of other things he knew Neil didn't care or know about, yet the idiot merely sat there with a smile on his face and gazed at him the entire time until Andrew told him to stop.

It took over an hour to reach Edgar Allan; as soon as Andrew parked the Maserati, Neil leaned over for the usual 'goodbye' kiss. Andrew met him halfway, thoughts filled with the away game next week and how Neil might be back in New York that weekend, all because of Ichirou.

“I’ll let you know when I reach New York,” Andrew reminded Neil as they got out of the car. Granted, it didn’t mean that Neil would have much time free, but it was something to look forward to in case a certain insecure little prick had other things to do than have Neil stand around babbling in tongues.

Neil seemed to figure out what he was saying and smiled. “I can’t wait to see what you pick,” he said as he shifted his bag higher up on his left shoulder. “Something expensive like your taste in cars?”

“Some of us know the difference between living and existing,” Andrew explained as he held the keys to the Maserati out of reach – or tried to, considering that Neil had a couple of inches on him. He clicked his tongue when Neil grabbed them and pulled the idiot closer. “Stay out of trouble, all right?” he ordered.

“Marley’s watching over me,” Neil said, which earned him a pained look. While the bastard laughed, Andrew pulled him forward for a quick nip to his bottom lip. “Okay, Bren’s watching over me? Janna?”

“Janna,” Andrew agreed. “And don’t spend the entire time on the court.”

“Hmm, no promises. Try to move about a little, maybe work up a sweat for once, okay?” Neil laughed again as he danced out of reach before Andrew could smack him for that comment.

Janna was waiting to drive Andrew back to the airport and provided a few answers once they in the SUV. “There’s not many of Wesninski’s ‘inner circle’ left alive, which is why it took so long for the group to cause any trouble. They laid low to avoid us tracking them down then heard about a real challenger to Ichirou appearing and decided to join forces, such as it is. We think last night was their best chance to get at Neil and they blew it, which isn’t going to reflect well on them or their new boss.”

“Just as long as Neil’s safe.” That’s all Andrew cared about in the end, even if Neil was a handful of an Exy junkie at times.

“Well, he’s not always going to have a certain gun-wielding boyfriend around, but I’m sure we can find someone willing to step in while you’re gone.” Janna’s lips twitched when Andrew gave her an unimpressed look for that poor joke. “Hold try-outs and the such.”

“You’re mistaken if you think I won’t shove you out of a moving vehicle.”

“I’ll drag you out with me,” Janna promised while still smiling.

She probably would, too.

Nicky was concerned about having to pick Andrew up early until told that everything was fine with Neil, that no, they hadn’t fought again, and Andrew escaped the suite to practice with Meg then spent some time up on the roof before he joined the others for dinner.

The week was back to normal, with the excitement over the whole ‘Barons’ thing having died down as the Foxes continued on through the playoff season. Matheson and Hurst were a bit annoyed that recruiters weren’t going to show up any games since Andrew was already signed and Nicky and Aaron didn’t intend to go pro, and continued to harass Wymack about the next year’s recruits until he threatened them with yet another marathon if they didn’t shut up.

Andrew’s classes didn’t require much effort (at least for him) and he had to admit that he was looking forward to putting his academic career behind him. The Wednesday sessions with Bee and Aaron were almost peaceful, were about the two of them facing the fact that in a couple of months they’d be moving on with their own lives. At one point, Andrew would have… he didn’t know what he would have _felt_ about it (a lack of surprise, perhaps, since everyone left him, no one wanted him), but Aaron complained one day about how Katelyn won the argument about the second bedroom even though Andrew made enough money to afford a hotel room whenever he visited and could sleep somewhere better than a crappy apartment rented by two poor med students.

Aaron expected him to visit.

Katelyn wanted there to be a room for him to stay in when he visited.

“You seem rather agreeable this week,” Bee remarked on Thursday (changed to the morning because of the flight and game that day). “Calm before the storm or are things going that well?”

Andrew contemplated telling her that a good killing always left him in a mellow mood but didn’t want to involve her in Moriyama drama. “If it’s the first?”

“There’s a sale going on at the liquor store, I’ll head there right after work,” Bee said with a wide grin. “Then stock up on chocolate.”

Hmm, he’d have to check out the first thing. “Not to deprive you of your fun, but it’s more of the second.”

“Ah.” Bee continued to smile as she got up to fix them some more hot chocolate. “I’m glad you had a good weekend with Neil and it’s heartening to see all this progress with you and Aaron. There’s not much more time before the end of the semester, though you know I’m always here for you.” She paused as she stirred the hot water into the mugs. “Just remember that progress isn’t a straight line, that it’s normal to have set-backs. You and Neil had an argument which was resolved and are working on your relationship once again. You and Aaron are each establishing your own lives yet acknowledge that each other has a place in those lives. It may seem difficult at times, but it’ll get better.”

She’d just said something similar to that dozens of times over the years, but he understood what she meant right then. “I know I’m not the most optimistic person but I get it,” he told her as he rolled his eyes. “If you give me a ‘hang in there’ card or something similar when I graduate, I’m making you eat it.”

“I was thinking more like a tattoo since I know you love them so much?” Bee laughed when he clicked his tongue in disgust as she handed over his mug of hot chocolate. “Aw, David took Kevin out for a tattoo!”

“I’m officially requesting a new psychiatrist,” Andrew declared. “You’ve finally lost it.”

“Maybe.” Humor sparkled in Bee’s dark eyes. “Shall I draft up a list of candidates for you?”

He made an inarticulate noise before he sipped his drink, which was a signal for her to change the topic; they moved on to his plans for after spring break (when not with Neil). It was more talk about the future since he discussed going through his things at the house in Columbia in anticipation of Nicky putting it on the market soon and how he planned on giving Aaron the GS when he bought a new car.

Then it was flying off to Arizona to play the Wildcats, much to Andrew’s ‘joy’; he exchanged texts with Neil, who was flying to Kansas along with the rest of the Ravens to play Wichita State.

As usual, the Wildcats played rough but the Foxes weren’t a team to be beaten by force alone and finished the second stage of the playoffs undefeated. That would be more impressive if the Ravens hadn’t crushed the WS Shockers and the Trojans weren’t having an equally good season, with the betting pool favoring those two teams to once more face off in the final game.

Friday wasn’t much of an afternoon practice since the team was more interested in leaving for spring break than Exy (even Meg and Robin), so Wymack gave up after an hour and let them leave early. Andrew finished packing and texted Bee to enjoy her week free of messed up students before Nicky drove him, Aaron and Katelyn to the airport on the way to Columbia, and the three of them had a couple of drinks together while they waited for their respective flights.

Andrew still didn’t like Katelyn, but she was growing tolerable. It helped that she bought the first round of drinks and argued with Aaron over them getting a second bathroom in the apartment for their guests (if possible).

At least it was a direct flight to New York City, and Andrew had a ride from the airport to his hotel – Janna. She nodded to him by way of greeting as he climbed into the SUV and pulled away from the curb with ease, both of them quiet as Andrew checked the dashboard compartment for a pair of armbands complete with knives.

“You have a list of apartments ready?”

“Yes.” He’d worked on it the last couple of weeks, some suggested by the Barons and some he’d discovered himself after a bit of searching.

“Good.” Janna was quiet as she pulled onto the highway. “Thing is, there’s going to be a vacancy near Neil’s apartment in another couple of months. Declan found out about it and we debated telling you.”

Andrew thought about that while he lit a cigarette. “How close?”

“Same floor, down the hall. A couple of others throughout the building, actually, but closer is better.”

Better indeed, especially after the previous week. “Why not tell me before?”

Janna shrugged, something she did when she wasn’t sure how he’d react, Andrew had notice. “Because we weren’t certain if Neil would go for it? Or if you’d think we were pushing it on you?”

“And what, now you don’t care?”

“Now there’s more going on than worrying about Neil being upset or you feeling like we’re being a bit demanding,” Janna pointed out. “All you have to say is ‘no’ and we won’t bring it up again.”

“I thought Ichirou owned the building. How is he going to feel about me renting a place there?” Andrew argued as he cracked the passenger window so he could flick ash outside.

“He might not be entirely pleased about it, but in the end it means that he has another way of earning money from you and it’ll keep Neil in one place.” Janna cast him a side glance, her expression thoughtful. “He also cares about Neil, and you do keep him safe. That’s the only reason you’re still alive right now, I’m willing to bet.”

How wonderful, Andrew would have to send the insecure little prick a ‘thank you’ card one day soon. “I’ll consider it,” Andrew said, even though the apartment had just moved to the top of his list; as long as the rent wasn’t outrageous and the place decent, he’d rather be somewhere near Neil to keep watch over the trouble magnet and it was close to the Barons’ stadium.

Not to mention it had a nice garage for the new car he intended to buy.

Janna promised to have Declan send him information on the apartment and arrange a walk-through during the week, then dropped him off at the hotel where he was staying (unless at Neil’s apartment). He’d unpacked, showered and was looking through his phone for something to order for dinner when Neil called to invite him over for the night.

Declan picked him up that time; Andrew didn’t know the man very well so other than talking about the apartment, it was a quiet ride. Neil opened the door and smiled at him, the expression tinged with exhaustion, and Andrew was content to see that the little bird’s bedroom appeared less like a show room and more lived in when he left his bag in there.

Moreau was around that evening, unfortunately, and hung out with them as they ordered Thai for dinner, but reined in his usual highhandedness while they sat in the living room and ate. Neil talked about his upcoming week (a couple of interviews and photo shoots planned but nothing too bad, several ‘outings’ with Ichirou) while Moreau announced that he’d be on the road as of Monday, something that Andrew was pleased to hear – especially when Moreau made a comment about sleeping with earplugs that night.

Despite being tired and worn down by whatever Ichirou had put him through, Neil said ‘yes’ once they were alone in his bedroom, fell onto the bed with an eager smile on his face and his arms wrapped around Andrew’s shoulders. Andrew _may_ have taken Moreau’s taunt as a challenge to see how loud he could make his boyfriend be that night (Neil was extra-sensitive after coming once, when steadily fucked through his orgasm).

It was worth the dark bruise beneath his jaw and the fingernail marks on his shoulders to meet Moreau’s displeased look in the morning while Neil moved about the kitchen in a sleepy daze, neck ringed with hickeys and hair even more a tousled mess than usual.

“I _loathe_ you so much,” Moreau muttered while he fussed with the fancy espresso machine.

“Get any more flowers lately?” Andrew asked before he sipped the mocha cappuccino he’d just made for himself.

Something was spat at him in rapid-fire Japanese before Moreau stomped off to his bedroom, while Neil attempted to blink awake over a brewing pot of tea.

Andrew made breakfast for the three of them (Moreau came out of his room eventually) before he and Neil went off to check a couple of the apartments on his list during one of Neil’s days ‘off’. It was nothing more than two ‘friends’ out together, Neil assisting Andrew since he was familiar with the city and Andrew would soon play for the same team as Neil’s best friend and ex-partner – for the same team Neil would himself in another year (no one believed that Neil would sign for a team other than the Barons at that point).

It was difficult to remember to keep a certain distance apart, to not react to Neil’s smiles and teasing jabs. To wait until they were alone in the strange apartments to pull him in for a kiss or shove a hand in his smirking face. It should have been easy after all the years of being ‘just friends’ for real and the distance between them, but it was as if there was some sort of lodestone inside of Neil, something magnetic and powerful that pulled at the iron Andrew had poured inside of himself to strengthen all those broken pieces, all the weak and fallible parts.

Though the sight of Bren and Janna trailing behind them as if a couple out on a date who just so happened to be headed in the same direction as Andrew and Neil helped to refresh his memory on the ‘no touching in public’ rule.

They stopped at a street truck which sold steamed vegetable and chicken dumplings for lunch, and ended up having their picture taken by over a dozen fans while they stood around and ate; even with Neil wearing something other than black and red for once (Andrew had picked out his clothes for the day), with a hood pulled over his head, all it took was one glimpse of that damn ‘4’ tattoo (or the scar, which was less noticeable) and the fans were certain it was him.

At least they were left alone at dinner (other than Bren and Janna towards the back), a small Italian restaurant where people barely paid them any attention (Andrew was betting the other guests weren’t Exy fans) in favor of taking pictures of their meal and sharing things online. He had a feeling their server recognized Neil but nothing was said, which was all that mattered, and they talked about the apartments they’d seen while they ate.

“I hear there’s a couple available in your building,” Andrew brought up, mindful of his promise not to keep secrets from Neil.

“Hmm, really?” Neil paused in eating his plate of gnocchi to consider that. “It’s not the cheapest,” he winced a little upon saying that, “but the location is nice. We enjoy being able to run in the park and go out to grab whatever we need.”

Someone wasn’t realizing that Andrew wasn’t as much interested in running around Central Park (really?) as watching over a certain little bird – however, Andrew had honored their new agreement, more or less. “I’ll check it out, see what it’s like.”

“It’s your budget.” Neil didn’t appear bothered, so Andrew considered the topic dropped for the moment.

They walked back to the apartment building, content to enjoy the decent weather (a little cool for Andrew’s liking, but still comfortable) that evening and the companionable quiet with each other. Their arms brushed together as they walked, and Andrew found his pinky finger hooked around Neil’s as they made their way down the mostly empty blocks.

Moreau was already in his room when they returned to the apartment, pointedly playing music loud enough to be heard all the way in the living room. Neil gave the door to his roommate’s room an odd look while Andrew took it to mean that the gauntlet was thrown down a second night in a row and pulled Neil to the other room while asking ‘yes or no’.

Moreau greeted him by calling him a filthy, perverted gargoyle the next morning.

“You two do realize you’re going to be teammates soon, right?” Neil reminded them while he leaned against the counter with a mug of tea held between his hands. “And maybe should start getting along a little?”

“I don’t want to hear such things from a loud devil like you,” Moreau snapped.

Neil’s eyes narrowed in a manner which Andrew recognized well – apparently, so did Moreau since he took an abortive step back. “At least I’m loud in _my own bedroom_. I seem to remember walking in on Jeremy going down on you in our _living room_.”

Moreau drew himself to his full height and tried to pretend that he wasn’t fleeing the room, sans coffee and dignity.

“You didn’t tell me that part,” Andrew said as he went to make himself some coffee.

“Haven’t had the time yet? That and I think Marley wanted the honors,” Neil admitted.

Neil begrudgingly skipped his morning run once again to spend a little more time with Andrew before he had to deal with Moriyama things for the rest of the day; a better-behaved Moreau joined them for breakfast then Andrew and Neil sat on the couch with their respective mugs of caffeine for an hour or so until it was time for Andrew to leave.

He checked out another apartment that day and visited a dealership specializing in foreign sports cars. There were several Porsches on the showroom floor, some Maserati, Ferrari and Lamborghini, enough to give him an idea to narrow it down for his next visit.

Neil texted him when he got in that night, a little before midnight. There was one from Bren as well, an assurance that Neil was all right and that it would be good for Andrew to get the one apartment.

Declan called while Andrew was out looking on Monday to set up a walk-through on Tuesday; considering that Andrew didn’t like how the one neighbor had come out to stare at him when he’d been let into the apartment by the realtor and that the garage was poorly lit, he ended the showing after hanging up and went back to the car dealership for some test drives instead.

Tuesday he checked out the apartment near Neil’s while Neil was busy with photo shoots; it was all the way down the hall, with Declan’s apartment between them. It was a two-bedroom with a balcony, which Andrew thought was a bit much before he thought about Aaron and Katelyn, about Renee (and Reynolds, unfortunately) talking about how she should have time to visit now that she was done with the Peace Corps, and perhaps even Bee.

He never thought he’d have a life involving people who would give enough of a damn about him where they’d want to spend time with him, let alone him having a home he’d want to open up to them.

It was obvious that something had been worked out with Ichirou or whoever handled the building’s leases because the rent wasn’t as bad as he’d expected, but Andrew supposed he earned some sort of discount for ‘being on the job’ while there. He told Declan that he better have a decent parking spot and that he’d take it.

Wednesday was back at the Barons’ stadium, where he was introduced to Kelly Daniels, his new (or soon to be new) PR agent. She was a young woman in her late twenties with shoulder-length rose gold dyed hair and wire-rim glasses, a sharply tailored dark blue dress suit with patterned ankle boots bearing grinning skulls; the impression Andrew picked up from her was one of ‘don’t think you can just fuck with me for the hell of it’.

Radcliffe might not be a total idiot.

“Look, I’ve done my research on you,” Daniels told him as she clutched an iPad to her chest. “You’ve turned down the few endorsement deals sent your way, mostly because of your association with Kevin Day. Not to knock the fact that you’re an incredibly talented player, but you’re also known to be an asshole, judging from your past interviews,” she said in an utterly blunt manner. “I’m not even going to touch upon your criminal history.”

“You just did,” Andrew pointed out as he flicked ash on the carpet of the office where he’d been ‘told’ to meet the woman.

“I’m not going to _elaborate_ on your criminal history,” Daniels enunciated, her pale brown eyes flashing with annoyance. “Some people think we can do a whole spin on you being reformed but you know what? _Not_ gonna touch that.” She gave him a highly dubious look which proved she was smart and a good judge of character. “Now let’s put our cards on the table, shall we? I’ve been told to pimp you out. You strike me as someone who doesn’t want to be pimped out. So, let’s figure out a way to meet in the middle because you’ve signed a contract and I’m _not_ going to let you fuck up this job for me, all right?”

Andrew didn’t react to the word ‘pimp’ even though he inwardly twitched at it. “Phrase it better next time or I’m gone,” he told her.

“What? The not fuck it up part?” Daniels glared at him. “It’s the truth, I’m tired of you guys thinking that you can push me around because I’m a woman.”

“No, the other part.” He stared her down as he dropped the cigarette to the floor and ground it out with the toe of his shoe.

“You mean the pi- ah.” She had the grace to flush a little. “Okay, duly noted.” She relaxed a little and offered up an apologetic smile. “Like I said, I’m used to fighting with you guys all of the time and I guess I can be a bit crude because of it. But it doesn’t change anything, upper management is really serious about you taking on a lot of endorsements.”

Of course Ichirou wanted as much of that 40% as possible. “I know what I signed,” Andrew told her. “Find me decent ones and I won’t give you shit.” He thought about that for a moment while she perked up upon hearing that. “Too much shit.”

“Nice to see you’re honest about it, at least.” She tapped her fingers along the back of the iPad. “What’s ‘decent’?”

“I don’t want to look ridiculous, no ‘pimping’,” Andrew’s upper lip curled the slightest bit upon saying that word, “no deal just for the sake of making money. If it’s for Exy or something that makes sense that someone who plays the sport would do it, fine. If not, we need to sit down and talk about it, and the answer’s probably going to be ‘no’.” He refused to embarrass himself just to make Ichirou rich.

Daniels nodded. “I understand. Some of the guys don’t care what they represent as long as it brings in a paycheck, but it just damages their brand in the end. It’s better to be more selective in the long run and I can argue that point if anyone asks about why you seem ‘picky’.”

The meeting went much ‘better’ after that, Daniels less defensive when it was clear that Andrew wasn’t going to be as difficult as feared. Andrew had agreed to the endorsement deal part of his contract, after all, though he refused to go along with everything, and believed he could work with Daniels.

If not, she’d find out just how _difficult_ he could be when provoked.

To reward himself for not setting fire to the stadium before he left, Andrew returned to the dealership and ordered a customized Ferrari 488 GTB, with a V8 engine and over six hundred horsepower at his disposal (or it would once it arrived). It would hold him over until the money from the endorsement deals came in and he could look at something a little more practical for the winter.

He was eating take-out in the hotel room when there was a series of texts on his phone, all from Katelyn (one had to wonder how she got ahold of his number). It appeared that she and Aaron had signed a lease on an apartment not too far from the campus and the transportation system. She sent along a couple of photos of the place, which included her and a scowling Aaron; it looked halfway decent with sturdy doors and new windows, and was clean.

It had two bedrooms and two bathrooms, even if the second ones were on the small side, and a parking lot for residents.

Neil texted the next day to let him know he was free until Saturday, but warned Andrew that his cousin was visiting and wanted to meet him. Andrew took that to mean Jamie, whom he’d heard about, and had his suspicions confirmed when Janna picked him up to take him to the apartment.

“She just want to meet you,” the bodyguard assured him. “She’s here helping out Stuart and even though they weren’t involved much when he was young, the rest of the family is concerned about Neil. They’ve figured out he’s serious about you and want to get a feel for you,” she said with that small, amused smile of hers.

Andrew gave her the finger and didn’t speak for the rest of the trip.

Jamie turned out to be around 5’5” and a couple of years older than Andrew, a young woman with blonde hair and grey eyes who possessed the lean Hatford build and a casual smile which could turn sharp within a heartbeat. She also appeared intelligent and quick to pick up on things, those pale eyes searching about to pick up clues even as she stood still. Andrew picked up on several similarities between her and Neil in the twenty minutes she hung out in the apartment and asked him what appeared to be innocuous questions about his major and hobbies, and figured when there was no attempt to shoot him that he must have passed some sort of test.

“Be good, little cousin,” Jamie wished Neil as she gave him a kiss on the cheek before leaving. “I’ll see you on Saturday.”

“Okay.” Neil smiled at her then went to collapse on the one couch as soon as she left. “Ah hell, does it feel good to sit down,” he groaned.

Andrew went to open a wine of bottle before he joined his boyfriend. “Have a song to sing, little bird?”

Neil made a rude gesture his way but began to talk. “Thanks to the guy Janna and Bren captured, which, by the by _, I_ got a lecture on being so damn stab-happy for some reason.” He rolled his eyes while he shook his head. “Moving on. Their guy gave up some useful information which Ichirou’s put to good use the past week or so, things have been rather messy and I actually spent a discrete couple of hours at the FBI headquarters downtown yesterday lying through my teeth that I hadn’t had any interaction with my father’s people lately.” He gave a bitter laugh as he rested his head against the back of the couch. “Which is sorta true because I didn’t really talk with Malcolm or the others.”

“Semantics,” Andrew breathed out as he combed back with his fingers the hair falling onto Neil’s forehead, which earned him a grateful smile.

“Yeah. So anyway, you really missed your chance to have someone else get rid of my body, but I don’t think it’s all said and done now,” Neil continued. “Just enough for Ichirou to go back to normal business, more or less.”

“And you?” Andrew asked as Neil caught at his hand and entwined their fingers together.

“Hmm, me? Nothing really changes for me,” he admitted with a reassuring smile that lacked any conviction. “I keep Bren or one of the others around whenever possible. I don’t go anywhere alone. I don’t leave the Nest without reason or permission. I obey orders.”

Andrew shifted about to better face his boyfriend. “I’m surprised that you, someone who is so clearly a ‘runner’, goes along with all that inanity.”

Neil’s smile, fake as it was, faltered. “Because it’s not just me who pays if I don’t,” he reminded Andrew. “It’s easier to rebel when it’s just your own neck in the noose.”

Funny, Andrew thought it was easier for most people to rebel when others would pay the price instead… but he was the idiot who’d carved into his own flesh, who’d offered himself up to protect a brother he’d never met.

Then he met Neil and learned a new definition for the word ‘martyr’.

They changed the subject after that, both deciding to talk about something less depressing, and watched a movie while Neil had some tea and Andrew finished the wine (Neil had wanted to watch the Baron's game against the Kestrels but was overruled).

Someone may have had the idea to go running in the morning, but Andrew was determined not to waste his break doing stupid things like exercising and managed to convince Neil to remain in bed with strategic use of hands and mouth. That time they were both showered, dressed and in the kitchen (with Neil perched on the counter, still loose-limbed and smiling) while Andrew made omelets when Moreau returned from his morning flight.

He gave them a searching look for several seconds then sighed. "One for me?" he asked as he left his bags in the living room and came over to give Neil a hug in greeting.

"I suppose, if at least to keep you from complaining." He leveled the spatula at Neil when he was nudged in the back of his right thigh by a foot. "What?"

" _Play nice_ ," Neil chided in German while a muttering Moreau went off to his bedroom. " _Think of all the incriminating stories he can tell you about Day_."

Hmm... that did have possibilities.

The three of them talked about Andrew's new apartment during breakfast (Moreau was clearly ecstatic about his new neighbor) and suggestions for furniture afterward (Andrew was on his own when it came to furnishings). It was beginning to sink in that he'd be living in New York in a couple of months, that he'd leave South Carolina for a new state (the third one in his entire life), that he'd be on his own (other than a grouchy French bastard and one or more British bodyguards, at least for the first year). Nicky would be in Germany... but Aaron would be a short flight away, as would Neil, and there most weekends (when Andrew wasn't out of town for away games).

Bee was right about change, how it would happen whether he liked it or not. For the first time in his life, he was largely responsible for the decisions that had brought him to this place, wasn't merely reacting to things because of others.

It was a quiet day spent with Neil and a mostly-behaved Moreau, half the time talking in French with the two and listening to them argue over just about anything - how to brew coffee or do laundry or if it was going to rain. It was easy to spot the affection beneath their bickering, to notice how they sought each other out all the time even if it was just with a look or a question.

Yet it was Andrew Neil would sit next to on the couch, would give that slight smile as if to ensure that everything was all right. The partner bond was still strong between the two Ravens, but Andrew didn't feel left out or diminished when it was clear that something had been forged between him and Neil over the years as well.

He might not understand it, might not entirely trust it (not true), but it was there none the less.

His last day in New York was spent checking out a few things for the apartment before Neil had to go off with Bren, then catching an evening flight back to PSU. Nicky talked his ear off the entire drive back to the Fox Tower, his excitement about the repairs to the house a bit of an overkill which Andrew recognized as an attempt to mask the anxiety he felt over their approaching graduation and 'break-up'. While Nicky was more than eager to resume his life in Germany with Erik, it was clear that he was going to miss Andrew and Aaron for some odd reason.

Aaron and Katelyn returned on Sunday morning, and Nicky insisted on the four of them going out to brunch to talk about the past week and share pictures; Aaron snagged the back of Andrew's shirt before he could flee to the roof. A huge stack of waffles covered in chocolate syrup and whipped cream made it bearable, as did Neil's emoji heavy response to the picture Andrew sent of his meal (several green-faced ones and even a couple with X's for eyes). Neil called when he returned to Edgar Allan in the afternoon to check in (and reassure Andrew that he was all right), tired as always but eager to return to the Ravens' grueling practice regime.

Sunday night Marley once again set up her phone to record the practice session, with about half of the Ravens participating in the informal scrimmages and Boyd there to help Dan coach. Neil appeared worn out at the end of the practice, but he smiled when Marley draped her arms over his shoulders and Dan tousled his hair, didn’t flinch when some of the older Ravens huddled near him so Andrew took it to mean that he was happy to be back at the Nest.

There weren’t too many texts over the next few days since the Ravens threw themselves back into practice after a week off, but Neil did forward on a picture of Moreau out on the balcony Monday night with Kevin glowering next him and a slightly smiling Thea Muldani on his other side. The Barons had played the Sirens earlier that evening (and won), and it appeared that Moreau had invited the former Ravens to his apartment.

Andrew looked forward to hearing more about _that_.

Kevin called him the next day, in a good mood despite the Sirens’ loss (it helped that they won against the New Jersey Jammers the day before, he supposed). “You need to keep up on the winning streak. Your defense isn’t bad, but the offense is still-“

“I’m about to hang up,” Andrew warned. “The only thing in relation to Exy I want to hear about is you and Moreau.” Neil wouldn’t be free for another couple of hours.

Kevin sighed as if abused (not quite) and muttered something in Japanese before he answered. “You mean last night, don’t you? Did Jean tell you, or Neil?” When Andrew gave a slight grunt, he continued. “We’re working on being friends again, talking here and there during the season and whenever we play. He stays in touch with the other Ravens, especially Thea, so when they were talking about his apartment, I guess it was just natural he invited us over.” He was quiet for a moment. “He’s doing good, him and Neil. I’m glad things are working out for them. Even Thea commented on that. And… and I’m glad that we can talk to each other, can move on from the past.”

It wasn’t quite as easy as that, but it was a start, Andrew supposed. “You up to twenty words yet with Muldani?”

Kevin spent the rest of the call rambling on about how he thought that Muldani was close to forgiving him, that she was spending more time with him (like last night) and even sat next to him on the plane. Andrew put up with it for ten minutes before he said his phone was about to die and ended the call.

Neil told him that evening during a brief call (that damn practice schedule) that Muldani was enjoying making Kevin jump through hoops, and that while Kevin wasn’t his favorite person (still working on a few issues there), he was glad that Jean had invited them over since it got him out of some party with Radcliffe, hanging out with the two Sirens players, and it helped Jean to socialize more.

It would help Neil to socialize more with people who weren’t Ravens or criminals (whenever he was around the grumpy French bastard), though Muldani and Kevin were barely removed from the Ravens and just as much of Exy addicts as he was, the idiot.

When Andrew pressed about the rest of Neil’s weekend in the city (after he’d left), he was informed that it had been translating and standing there as Ichirou finished dealing with someone trying to take him down, so Neil was tired and stressed and eager to lose himself in a stupid stickball sport. Andrew got the ‘subtle’ hint and let his boyfriend go rest before wasting a perfectly fine evening with yet another practice.

They talked once more during the week (Andrew had the suspicion that Bren and Marley forced Neil to call in order to get him off the court and to take a break from his homework); Neil continued to frustrate the Ravens’ psychiatrist and was determined to finish a paper for his Chinese class that was due in another week as well as narrowed down another new recruit for Noguchi and Dan to visit.

As for Andrew, he continued to work with Robin in the evenings, along with Meg and Kenny; the young goalie had improved enough that she was up to a full quarter in the game and Wymack felt that she could be subbed in for Hayes if there was a need. Andrew still had to call out a correction or two during the practices, the occasional reinforcement for a new skill Robin had learned over the season, and had no doubt that she’d hold her own come next year.

It seemed that she wasn’t a rabbit after all.

Practice with the Foxes started out a bit fractured since everyone wanted to focus on their spring break stories, but Wymack managed to get some sort of concentration out of them after a couple of days by posting sign-up sheets with their names on them to a marathon later that month all over the locker rooms. They had a game with the Shockers again at the end of the month, which was a lucky break for the team, but they still needed some sort of cohesion if they wanted to win.

All Andrew cared about was spending the weekend in Charleston, in being one more week closer to graduation and no longer having to deal with collegiate Exy. Yes, he'd still have to play the stupid stickball sport as a career, but at least he'd have a nice paycheck (even with only 60% of it) to help make it bearable.

Neil ended up out of town that weekend, a combination of a recruiting trip out to Los Angeles and business with Ichirou, which worked out well for the insecure little bastard. Bren kept Andrew appraised of what was went on during the trip since Neil was occupied for both days, constantly on demand for his translation skills as Ichirou dealt with his rival once and for all.

That meant a run-down Neil was back on campus and had to juggle his captain’s duties (the final list of new recruits, increased publicity as the team closed in on another championship victory), homework (papers and exams before the team was given a pass for the semi-finals) and more bullshit from Ichirou in the middle of the week. Andrew barely spoke to his boyfriend at all during the week, but by Friday it was more or less resolved (last recruit signed, all papers turned in, Ichirou on his way back to New York with no plans for Neil to follow).

Andrew was on the first plane to Charleston the next morning.

Neil was kicked out of Saturday morning practice early, which meant that he was waiting for Andrew by the Maserati when Janna dropped him off. It had only been two weeks, but Neil once more had circles beneath his eyes and darkness in them, which was why Andrew forgot himself and threaded his fingers through Neil’s tousled, damp hair and pulled him forward for a quick brush of the lips. “Don’t tell me you’ve been stupid and skipped meals.”

“No,” Neil sighed as he only pulled away an inch or two. “Marley and Dan kept shoving smoothies and tea down my throat every time I turned around.”

Nice to know they were good for something.

Andrew shoved the self-destructive idiot into the car so they could leave Edgar Allan, and was pleased to note that not only had Neil already placed his bag in the back but there was a travel mug of coffee for Andrew along with Neil’s tea; they were headed back to the farm house, which was a longer drive than the cabins had been.

They stopped along the way for some breakfast sandwiches to hold them over until they reached the house, which was well-stocked at least (and had cable/internet). The downside of the place was that they had to share it with Janna and Bren (no more being too far from the bodyguards), but the place was big enough that they could have some privacy (there was a television in the one bedroom with a large, comfortable bed).

Neil slept half of Saturday while Andrew read and exchanged texts with Renee, which was a pretty good day. They made out for a while when the little bird woke up, until both their stomachs rumbled, then went downstairs to prepare dinner. Janna helped Andrew make a potato and chicken curry while Bren and Neil babbled in some sort of British slang about Stuart and other Hatfords. Bren broke out a bottle of potent whiskey which he shared with Andrew (Janna and Neil only had a glass each), and the four of them sat down to dinner where they all tried to outdo each other with the most outrageous way to kill someone (surprisingly, Janna won).

Andrew and Neil returned to the room to watch a few episodes of some show about people trying to recreate fancy baking creations, then made out some more before bed.

Sunday started off with Neil going down on Andrew (after asking first), which led to Andrew returning the favor, then pancakes for breakfast. They were in the middle of sparring when Janna and Bren finally showed up, and instead of putting an end to it, the two joined in; Bren was all brute force and dirty tricks while Janna was speed and precision.

Renee would enjoy fighting them.

All in all, it was a good weekend despite having to share the house with the two bodyguards. Andrew still preferred the privacy of the cabin, but Bren and Janna did their best to give him and Neil some space (and to enjoy some ‘downtime’ themselves) while still doing their jobs.

“If you look like shit next weekend, not only am I kicking your ass but I’m letting Bren cook and making you eat everything,” Andrew warned when it was time for him to leave for the airport.

“Real compassionate you are,” Neil scoffed, yet he smiled as he handed Andrew his bag and their fingers brushed together. “I’m half tempted to practice all night just to see what he comes up with, you know.”

“Get out of my sight, you idiot,” Andrew demanded, and refused to acknowledge that traitorous warm feeling in his chest when Neil’s smile widened.

He thought he saw one or two people stare at him while he was at the airport and tugged the hood of his black shirt farther over his head, but nothing was said and no one approached, so he put it out of mind soon enough.

There was press on court on Wednesday, reporters doing the usual boring piece on the Foxes (no longer quite the underdogs they’d been in the past) and their thoughts on the playoffs. They focused a bit on Meg as the new captain, one carrying on the tradition of being a woman in what was usually a man’s position (though there were now two other women captains out there, as well as a couple of vice-captains), and asked Wymack how it felt to have a successful team at last.

When it came to his turn, Andrew didn’t think much about the interview; he figured he’d be asked about the Barons and the Foxes’ chances to win, maybe his thoughts on the other teams.

The last thing he expected was to be asked about his relationship with Neil.

“Andrew, would you say that you’re good friends with Neil Josten?” the reporter, some kid who looked as if he just graduated with a nice and shiny media degree the year before, asked as another kid the same age kept snapping pictures behind him.

He gave the both of them a blank look while Wymack watched off to the side, ‘just in case’. “Yes.” No sense in denying it since they’d publicly hung out together and exchanged messages on Instagram from time to time.

Reporter kid grinned for some reason. “Just ‘friends’? How did that even happen?”

Andrew’s eyes narrowed at that. “Exy’s not as big a sport as some people think, plus we play in the same district. We see each other several times a year and have friends in common.” A bit of a stretch there, him considering Meg a friend and Neil Kevin, but most people wouldn’t know that.

“I think it’s more than several times a year,” the kid remarked as he pulled out his phone and held it up. “According to Sportsbuzz, you’ve become a regular at the Yeager airport in Charleston, West Virginia. Several workers have gone on record about seeing you there a couple of times a month this past year, arriving on Saturday morning and flying out Sunday evening. Those just so happen to be the weekends which correspond with the ones when Neil Josten isn’t in New York City or busy with other Ravens’ affiliated travel.”

“One of his coaches is an ex-Fox,” Andrew said in an attempt to… to deny the truth, basically, while Wymack approached to stand beside him. “You may have heard of her – Dan Wilds. Neil Josten isn’t the only reason for me to be in Charleston.”

“No, I don’t see Dan Wilds going to Columbia to visit you, or tagging along when you go to Manhattan to spend time with Josten. I also don’t see pictures of you kissing Miss Wilds.” The reporter held up his phone and, despite the smallness of its screen, Andrew could see a photo of him and Neil in the parking lot together. “There’s several posted on the site of the two of you together. Care to make an official comment now?”

Andrew turned around and walked away before he made the prick eat his own phone, and heard Wymack yell at the reporters to fuck off before the door slammed shut behind him.

He tried to call Neil when he reached the roof of Fox Tower but it kept going into voicemail, which wasn’t a good sign. Marley eventually texted him a frowning emoji and the lovely text of ‘shit/fan’, which confirmed that the reporters had gotten to Neil as well.

After Daniels called for about the eight time (one of many people ‘eager’ to talk to Andrew), he finally answered. “Okay, I’m pretty sure you’re not happy right now,” the woman said in a rush. “You just got outed by assholes, which sucks. But I’m your damn agent so guess what? You _talk_ to me, your rude bastard! I’m the person who’s going to deal with this for you, _so answer my fucking calls_!” She was practically screeching at the end, and Andrew was tempted to hang up on her but as she said, _she_ had to deal with it so he decided to give her _one_ chance.

“Yell at me again and you’re not my agent anymore,” he warned.

There was a good bit of muttering on the other end for several seconds followed by about ten seconds of deep breaths before she responded. “I’m sorry,” she surprised him by saying. “You’re right, I shouldn’t yell but it hasn’t been a good day so far, which I’m sure you can agree. Some people aren’t happy about one of the best new rookies being gay, so much for diversity and inclusion in a modern sport.”

He had to give it to Daniels, she had a way with sarcasm. “Including the Barons?”

“Hmm, yes and no. Thomas was oddly unsurprised by the news, but some of the staff don’t like anything that causes a lot of negative publicity and you’ll always have some homophobic assholes on the team. The main thing is we need to handle this the right way from the start.” She was quiet for a moment. “Ah, you are _gay_ , aren’t you?”

He almost scoffed at the question. “Yes.” Did he need some sort of official card to prove it or something? Wait until Nicky found out.

“And you are in a relationship with Neil Josten.” When Andrew didn’t answer, Daniels sighed. “I’ve seen the photos, Andrew, and everything else that damn gossip site posted. You certainly seem involved with him, and this will play out a lot better if you’re in a committed relationship. Josten has a _lot_ of fans, the last thing you want is to anger them by dragging him into a scandal and then go ‘just fooling around’.”

“He should have some say in that,” Andrew gritted out as he fumbled for a cigarette, as he thought about _Neil_.

“Oh. _Oohh_.” Daniels’ voice sounded a lot warmer when she next spoke. “Okay then, you talk to your boyfriend, clear everything with him while I work on a game plan. Just be prepared for the fact that there’s no going backwards with this, it can’t be swept under the rug so you’re going to officially be the first gay pro Exy player unless someone else steps forward before the summer or is unlucky enough to be outed.”

Somehow, Andrew doubted he’d be that ‘lucky’. “No chance of the Barons dropping me over this?” It would be one way to deprive Ichirou of the money he wanted and spare Andrew from having to play Exy, though it would probably put his ‘ownership’ of Neil at risk.

“Nope, Thomas made it clear that you’re still signed to the team so I have to figure out a way to make this work.” Daniels gave an unamused huff. “At least I don’t have to worry about you harassing me, right?”

“No, just firing you for doing a shitty job.”

“You wish. Now talk to your boyfriend while I do some work,” she snapped before she hung up.

It took another hour before Neil called; Andrew was eating some pizza that Robin had brought up for him, along with a couple of bottles of beer. “And I thought the press finding out about my father was bad enough,” Neil said in a subdued voice.

“Neil… is it a problem?” Andrew couldn’t say he was ‘sorry’, not about them and… not about _them_. He didn’t like Neil being upset, though, didn’t like him possibly being hurt again because of what was between them, because of Andrew failing to notice someone taking those damn pictures.

It was quiet for a moment (he heard Bren murmur something and Neil swallow, so probably an offer of whiskey) before Neil answered. “No, not really.” He gave a humorless laugh. “Not compared to everything else, when you think about it. I don’t think too many people are surprised by it, considering the past couple of years, just that it’s you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Andrew asked, his voice gruff as he deliberately ‘poked’ a certain little bird who always ruffled his feathers in response.

“Because you’re an asshole lazy goth?” Neil teased back. “Or, well, Marley tells me everyone thinks I’m with Jean for some reason.” He sounded confused about that.

Now wasn’t the time to go down that rabbit hole. “Neil… be serious for a minute. I’ve a PR agent now and she needs to spin this whole thing because of the Barons. Does she start telling….” Dammit, Andrew wished that Robin had brought him something than beer. “Does she tell everyone we’re together or what? We can make this be all about me, if you want.”

It was quiet on the other end of the line for a few seconds save for the clinking of ice and then Neil was sputtering. “ _Fuck_ , Bren, I hate that stuff!”

“You needed it,” Bren called out. “Now answer your man, Red.”

“I hate you, too,” Neil muttered before he swore in Russian beneath his breath for about half a minute. “Yeah, you tell her ‘yes’,” he said, which cut into Andrew’s contemplations of throwing himself off the damn building when it seemed that Neil didn’t want to answer. “I mean… you even had to ask?”

_Yes_ , he had to ask, the idiot should know better by then. “You’re an idiot,” Andrew decided to enlighten him.

It was quiet again over the phone for a few seconds before Neil chuckled. “Yeah, but I’m _your_ idiot, it seems.”

Perhaps Andrew should throw himself over the edge after all and spare himself from foolish little birds who didn’t know any better, who made his chest compress so tightly that he might suspect himself of suffering a heart-attack (if only he would be so lucky) except for how warm and tingly he felt all over. “I hate you so much,” he declared. “135%.” He followed the latest percentage by hanging up.

He stood up so he could go downstairs and fetch some whiskey before he dealt with his official ‘coming out to the masses’ plan.

He truly loathed the universe just as much as it loathed him, it seemed.

Bee better have the really good triple chocolate bundt cake on hand when he stopped by later.

*******

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *******  
> I hope it was worth the extra wait. The end is near. Just a few more chapters, seriously.
> 
> Poor Jean, so flustered this chapter. But go Jeremy???
> 
> Definitely Neil POV in the next chapter. It just... really worked out to be Andrew in this one? Don't ask why, IDFK myself.
> 
> Hmm, who leaked those photos and everything? Why???
> 
> This was so difficult to write! I kept having to redo things because of the games and weeks and ARRGGGHH! Hopefully the timeline isn't too messed up.
> 
> I'mma gonna stop now. Need to wrap up the BB fic so probably another couple of weeks before more of this.
> 
> Comments and kudos always appreciated.   
> *******


	30. Infra-Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so, what happened in the last chapter? Neil and Andrew back together, and since Neil knows about Andrew signing with the Barons, the team goes ahead to release the news that he's their newest goalie. Andrew goes back to spending weekends with Neil as the spring semester progresses, and during one weekend at the cabin they're interrupted during the night by some of Nathan Wesninksi's men attempting to kill Neil (and Andrew) - it seems the remnants of his organization have formed an alliance with a rival of Ichirou's.  
> No more cabin for Neil and Andrew as they, along with Bren and Janna, 'deal' with those men.  
> Neil's busy the next couple of weekends helping Ichirou with the whole mess, and Andrew meets his new PR agent in NYC.  
> Also? Andrew (and Neil) are outed in the press - it seems someone took pics of them together and released them, and after talking together, they decide to admit that they are in a relationship together, making Andrew the first official professional gay Exy player (or he will be, in another couple of months).  
> *******  
> Okay, so that's the high points? Sorry for the wait, work has been insanely busy the past two weeks, it SHOULD get better after this week (ha!) at least for a little bit. I also finished the big bang fic! I just have to do a final edit and it should be posted in a couple of weeks along with some amazing art. Still have to figure out a damn title, though.
> 
> BUT!! We are getting SO CLOSE to this fic wrapping up! I'm thinking like two more chapters? Maybe? We'll see. Two more at least after this one.
> 
> OMFG the wordcount of this fic... I can't... I just can't... I AM SO SORRY.
> 
> Uhm... some reference to homophobic slurs (nothing graphic, but people are assholes) and the like, continuing the theme started in the last chapter.  
> *******

*******

Neil sat in the pre-game interview for the game against Syracuse and forced himself to smile even though he knew what was coming. “You think the Ravens have a good chance of claiming the championships again this year?” Radcliffe asked.

“Yes, I do,” Neil said while a visibly indignant Marley scoffed beside him. “The team’s strong and the closest competition, the Trojans, still aren’t up to where they were a couple of years ago. We’ll win,” he promised, even if there were times when he had doubts himself.

“I’d say that the Trojans _and_ the Foxes are your greatest challenges this season,” Clark argued, as ever an asshole. “Especially when your _boyfriend_ is on the latter team. Tell us, have any trouble facing off against Minyard when he’s on the court?”

And there it was; Neil gave a slight shake of his head when Dan went to end the interview. “Not at all, if anything I think it’s fun to play against someone of Andrew’s caliber, fun and a challenge, as you stated, but I’ve never had any problems facing off against him in all the years I’ve known him, as a rival or a friend or a boyfriend. That isn’t going to change.”

“But there’s a-“

“Look,” Neil said as he cut off the asshole. “I spent a good part of yesterday giving interviews about my relationship with Andrew Minyard, and today I’m here to play Exy. So ask me questions about Exy and the Ravens playing against Syracuse, then go look up those interviews from yesterday if you have any questions about Andrew and my relationship with him because I’m not going to talk about him or the Foxes until right before we play them again, got it? I’m definitely not going to talk about my sexuality because I don’t see how it has any impact on me playing today.”

“But-“

“Hey, do you guys have a hearing problem?” Marley asked as she leaned forward with a predatory smile on her lips. “Because I heard him loud and clear. Go bother those stupid ‘Oranges’ if you can’t ask questions about today’s game,” she told them with a scowl.

A reporter Neil hadn’t seen before (there were a few in the room, probably drawn by the latest scandal) glared at her for that comment. “I don’t think you understand how this works, sweetheart.” Both Marley and Dan stiffened at that term. “You-“

“No, _you_ don’t understand,” Neil snapped, more than done with it all. “We’re not here to put on a damn show for you assholes, we’re here to play Exy, to talk about Exy. If you want some petty drama, wait until after we beat Syracuse out on court and I’m sure they’ll only be too happy to badmouth the hell out of us, but until then, go to hell if you can’t do a simple thing like ask questions about a damn game like the professionals you’re supposed to be!” He shoved himself onto his feet as he shouted that last part, with Marley quick to join him while Dan yelled at the reporters that the interview was over, _dammit_!

The two of them stormed out of the press room, though Neil faltered when he caught sight of Coach Noguchi and Jake standing out in the hallway with Bren. Marley slowed down with him and opened her mouth to say something, probably to defend him, but Noguchi shook his head. “Go get the team ready for court,” he told her, backed by a stern look when she tried to argue.

“I’ll take over the captaincy in your honor,” Marley murmured as she patted Neil on the back, which earned her an unamused look as she hurried off with Jake. Noguchi regarded Neil in silence for a moment or two, and waved on a concerned Dan when she finally left the press room, but didn’t try to send Bren away.

“I’m sorry,” Neil apologized when it was just the two of them (and Bren) out in the black-walled hallway, his stomach twisting with anxiety as he thought about losing his temper back there, about all the trouble he caused and how Tetsuji would have dealt with him. “I… didn’t mean to say those things.”

The corner of Noguchi’s mouth twitched as he motioned for Neil to walk beside him. “Yes you did, don’t try to deny it.” When Neil flinched at that, Noguchi sighed as if tired. “Neil… I’m not angry with you. A bit frustrated, I won’t deny, but also a bit envious.” At Neil’s incredulous stare, he gave a slight shrug. “There were times during my professional career when I would have loved dearly to say something similar to what you and Marley tell those bastards, you know. It wasn’t easy, being an Asian man – being Asian in a pro sport.” His face twisted with anger as he gazed ahead. “It didn’t matter than one of Exy’s founders was Japanese, not when I played in America, when most of my opponents and even my teammates were American and white. A bitter laugh escaped him. “They couldn’t even get my ethnicity right when they insulted me, and the coaches on my first team didn’t do a damn thing as they called me those words to my face in the locker room or out on court..”

Neil could easily imagine it after hearing some of the insults flung at Marley because of her being South Asian, and at Ethan and Mohit. He could imagine it because of the abuse heaped on the women on the team, and everything the Ravens had gone through since Ross and Federov had posted stuff online.

That wasn’t even taking into account what had happened since someone had outed him and Andrew.

“People are cruel assholes,” he said. “Especially the press.”

“The press cater to the masses, what do you expect?” Noguchi reached out to give the back of Neil’s head a gentle rub while Bren muttered about ‘fecking pricks’. “Most of the time you do a decent job of handling them, even if I think you’re a bit mouthy, but try not to be too rough, okay? I don’t think too many people are going to hold what you just did against you since you tried to put the focus back on the game and are understandably upset about having your privacy violated like it was, but if you become too antagonistic, you’ll lose all the good will you have from your fans.”

“He’s right, Red,” Bren said. “Let them look like the villain, not you.”

Great, he was taking advice from a bodyguard/thug on how to be ‘likable’.

“I’ll do my best,” Neil said with a heavy dose of sarcasm. “It would help if they could stick somewhat to questions about Exy.”

“I don’t think you’re going to be that lucky, even though we’ve instructed them not to ask any personal questions on game day.” Noguchi gave him an apologetic look.

“Wonderful.” Neil sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck, for a moment wishing that Andrew was there to… he wasn’t sure _what_ exactly, to pull him close or smack some sense into him. “I’m sorry for being so difficult. It seems like every few months there’s some new sort of disaster because of me.”

Noguchi gave him another head rub and laughed. “I just look at it this way – when you finally graduate, things are going to be so quiet that I won’t know what to do with myself.”

Bren joined in on the laughter while Neil glared at the two men, even if he had to admit that his coach did have a point. By then they’d reached the locker rooms so he went to grab the rest of his gear and joined the team out on the court to warm up.

Marley and a few others gave him concerned looks until he shook his head and began to stretch in preparation for their game against Syracuse, who were also out on court and warming up. Neil sighed when he glanced up at the stands and saw several homophobic signs, which Marley noticed. “They’re assholes, ignore it.”

“I figured there’d be something,” he admitted. “I mean, they tried to tear us down over Riko and the whole scandal with Federov and Ross, and then when they found out about my father. This is just something new for them to throw in my face.” He still felt bad about bringing more negative attention to the team.

Marley appeared furious as she shook her head. “We’re gonna kick their asses tonight, gonna make them eat those insults, just you wait and see. I’m sick and tired of them pouncing on any excuse to insult us just because we’re the best.”

“Yeah, but I keep giving them the ammunition.”

Neil’s partner reached over to give him a one-armed hug. “Aw, don’t blame yourself, Shorty. They’d find something one way or another – they’d pick on our grades or us socializing too much or not socializing or _something_. Jealous shit-turds are always going to be shit-turds.”

He couldn’t help but smile when she phrased it like that. “Maybe you shouldn’t do the press conferences after all.”

“Pshaw, they love me, just like everyone else,” Marley declared as she pushed him away. “Now, let’s talk about how we’re going to kick Orange ass.”

Ethan and Bailey came over to join them as they talked strategy, soon followed by other Ravens, and the pre-game warm-up went by quickly. Neil felt buoyed by the support of his team, the familiar taunts of ‘I’ll score more points than you’ and affectionate teasing, the cold glares directed at their opponents yet sharp grins shared amongst themselves as they looked forward to a new game, another chance to prove themselves to the world.

His teammates didn’t care if he was ‘gay’ (demisexual, Marley corrected everyone), just that he could hold his own out on the court, that he was their captain and wouldn’t let them down. He was a Raven, was Perfect Court, was ‘4’ and wore black and red – _that_ was what mattered. He was one of the best at Exy and would lead his team to victory, and what happened off the court was inconsequential.

Syracuse’s captain won the coin toss, a sneer on his face as they stood facing each other at the center of the court and even blew a kiss at Neil before they walked away – which he scowled at but let slide. Noguchi and Dan had warned the Ravens to not let the other team goad them into any fights, to play ‘clean’ like they’d done the previous year (well aware of how much the team could get away with while still avoiding yellow and red cards), and it took a lot of Neil’s self-control to obey those orders when he was continuously targeted for body-checks and the such while insulted at the same time.

At least _he_ was taking the brunt of the abuse, with a few ‘comments’ flung at Ethan, Dale, Jordon and the others in an attempt to rile them up. Marley came close to being yellow-carded when she shoved a backliner who was taunting Brian about being gay, too (only with a derogatory term) face-first into the wall.

Noguchi called a time-out and pulled both her and Neil off the court. “What?” Marley asked, her eyes wide with fake innocence. “I was helping him seek enlightenment to become a better person. I hear comas are really good for that.”

Dan rubbed at her face before she gave Neil a displeased look. “Oh no, despite what Jean may tell you, you can’t blame this on me – she was psychotic before we ever met,” he swore.

“Somehow I believe you’ve still encouraged this side of her,” Dan muttered. “Both of you sit down and keep the mayhem to a minimum.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they said in unison; Marley smirked once they were seated on the bench and had bottles of water in hand (courtesy of Teagan). “’Minimum’ still leaves us a lot of wiggle room,” Marley whispered.

Neil elbowed her in the side since he had a feeling he was already on thin enough ice as it was, and tried an innocent look of his own when Dan glared their way.

Judging by the way she threw her hands in the air and stomped away, it wasn’t very successful.

The Ravens won against Syracuse, one more game toward a perfect season, one more game where they beat down the people who tried to take away their crown, who tried to defeat them through intimidation and insults rather than skill. The day would come when the Ravens would face their betters on court, but until it arrived, they refused to bow down to their lessers.

Dan must have given the press an earful because they stuck to asking about Exy at the post-game interview, their questions about what had happened out on court and what Neil thought about the upcoming teams the Ravens would play. He did let Meles ask about the homophobic signs and taunts from the Syracuse fans and players (and had to restrain Marley from swearing too much in response), and kept what Noguchi (and Bren) had told him in mind when he answered that he was used to such things by then.

“Do I like it? No. But it’s not going to stop me from playing the best game I can, it’s not going to stop anyone on the team from doing that, and it’s not going to change who I am,” he said while Marley nodded in agreement.

The questions wrapped up soon after that, at least on his and Marley’s part; he showered and changed as quickly as possible so he could head up to the East Tower. He was in the elevator with Bren when his friend gave him a slight nudge in the left shoulder. “Stick close to me, okay?”

Neil frowned at that. “Okay, any particular reason for that?”

Bren stared straight ahead as he readjusted the holster of his gun. “Just seems that Ichirou’s a bit on edge this week and I want to make sure he doesn’t take it out on you.”

 _That_ wasn’t good, considering the whole mess with Neil and Andrew. Neil ran his hands through his hair and counted from one to ten in five different languages until they reached the large room where everyone was waiting.

Ichirou gave Neil a slight nod in acknowledgement when Neil bowed low to him, Masato and Stuart flanking him on either side, then reached out to brush his fingers along the right side of Neil’s face. “ _You can barely see it anymore_ ,” he said in Japanese; it took Neil a moment to realize he meant the scar.

“ _Yes, it’s healed up well_ ,” Neil agreed.

“ _If only all things would so easily go away_.” Ichirou frowned as his hand fell back to his side. “You’ll come to New York this weekend since there’s things you need to do in regards to this… unfortunate turn of events,” he said in English. “Masato has a couple of interviews lined up for you.”

Neil bowed his head once more. “I understand, my lord.” He glanced at his uncle and noticed how Stuart seemed guarded about something, but couldn’t talk while Ichirou was right there.

“Thomas wants the fans appeased as quickly as possible,” Ichirou continued, his voice rough with anger yet his hands loose by his sides. “So far your sponsors aren’t protesting, which is what matters the most.”

Of course. Neil’s life could implode but as long as he still created revenue then all was well for Ichirou (and Radcliffe), right? “I understand, my lord,” he repeated with a slight incline of his head.

“So agreeable, as always.” Ichirou reached out once more, but before he could touch Neil, Stuart cleared his throat.

“The Toronto shipment, my lord?”

Anger flashed across Ichirou’s face once again, but he nodded as his hand fell down so Neil stepped forward to translate for the next hour or two, mind blanked of everything but the words being spoken in French, Russian, English and Japanese. When Ichirou was satisfied at last, he nodded to Neil before leaving, with Stuart only pausing to whisper something to Bren before striding out the door as well.

“Is something going on?” Neil asked when it was just the two of them in the elevator a few minutes later. “I mean… usually Stuart and Ichirou get along.”

Bren was quiet as if thinking of what to say before he shook his head. “Ichirou’s not happy about the whole ‘coming out’ thing, among other stuff. You know he can be demanding.”

But how was that Stuart’s fault? Neil frowned and went to speak, only for Bren to give him a weighted look and shake his head. “Some people just like to complain,” was all the enforcer said.

Neil supposed, but it still didn’t make much sense to him.

As soon as he was back in his room, he curled up on his bed and called Andrew to let him know that he wouldn’t be on campus that weekend (Marley was off talking to Robin, probably out on court); they’d expected it, considering the whole ‘hey, guess who’s gay’ mess, but it was still depressing to know for certain.

“Did you win?” he asked as soon as Andrew answered the phone.

“I hate you, but yes.” The Foxes had played the University of Oregon ‘Ducks’ (almost as bad as the ‘Oranges’). “We had as much fun as you did.”

Neil took that to mean that Andrew had dealt with the same shit he (and the Ravens) had put up with from Syracuse. “Did you have to play nice, too?”

There was a loud snort of derision on the other end of the phone. “Ah, didn’t happen to get red-carded, did you?” That wouldn’t be good for Andrew or the Foxes going into the semi-finals, let alone Andrew’s pending pro career.

“The referees couldn’t prove I meant to hit the asshole in the head so it was just a yellow card, but Robin finished up the quarter for me anyway. Coach doesn’t have any sense of adventure.”

“After nearly five years of dealing with you, I’m surprised the man has any stomach lining left, let alone sanity.” Neil smiled when there was a muttered ‘smart-ass’ in return. “He’s going to throw a party once you’ve left campus, I’m certain.”

“He’s already planned a date and sent out invites.” Andrew paused to light a cigarette. “How did the insecure little prick react, hmm?”

“Yeah, that.” Neil hugged the fox plushie to his chest and closed his eyes. “I have to do interviews in the city this weekend. He’s not happy about things, but I guess as long as the sponsors don’t back out, there’s not much he can do about it.”

Andrew was quiet for a couple of seconds then clicked his tongue. “What, he’s fine with selling you to another guy but he gets shitty when people find out you’re sleeping with that person?”

“Drew,” Neil gritted out as he hugged the fox even tighter. “Don’t… I don’t like that.” He didn’t like hearing his… his relationship with Andrew described at that, as if the only reason they were together was due to the deal Andrew had made with Ichirou.

“He’s an asshole. A controlling, insecure asshole.”

“Yeah,” Neil agreed. “I’m not arguing with that part.”

It was quiet again until Andrew let out a slow breath. “Daniels wants me to do more interviews, I guess I’ll throw her a bone and change my flight to New York, too.”

Neil felt some of the tension in his chest lessen at that. “Ah, I won’t have too much time free, maybe just Saturday night and Sunday?” But even spending that small amount of time with Andrew would be worth it after the last couple of days.

“Just means I won’t have to put up with too many stupid chirps about Exy.”

“Fuck you,” Neil laughed as he sat up straight.

“Hmm, close but not quite. Will a certain brooding French bastard be around?”

“The Barons have an away game the next few nights, I’m sure he’ll be heartbroken that he’ll miss you.” Neil grinned as he rested his chin on top of the fox’s head. “Send me your flight information. If I’m not around then I’ll have someone let you into the apartment.”

They didn’t talk too much longer after that since they both had classes the next day and would see each other on Saturday. Neil had just finished checking his homework for the morning when Marley literally bounced into their room, all smiles over her call with Robin. He endured her jumping onto his bed and babbling about her girlfriend for a few minutes before shrugging her off so he could get some sleep.

It was a little better on Friday; there weren’t as many stares or gestures in his directions as he went to class and out on campus, though he noticed several young men smiling at him. Marley rolled her eyes and hooked her left arm through his right elbow. “Oh boy, Andrew better never show up during the week or else it’ll be a bloodbath.”

“Huh?”

“Not to play into stereotypes or anything, but we’re on a liberal arts campus,” Marley told him. “That means these guys aren’t as hung up on ‘no homo, bro’ as your more sport-oriented universities.” When he gazed at her in confusion, she sighed. “The only reason you haven’t been hit on non-stop the past four years is because of Jean and the fact that you’re a Raven. Now they know you like guys and don’t have a tall, gloomy partner hanging around all the time, but you’re still a Raven and you have a very scary boyfriend so I think you’ll be left alone.” She resumed grinning as she bumped her hip into his. “If not, then _I_ get to beat up some people.”

“I can beat up people myself,” Neil declared, a little offended that she thought he couldn’t defend himself (what was with that?) then frowned. “And maybe Dan’s right about you being rather bloodthirsty lately. Did you fail a test or something?”

Marley tugged on her braid as they walked back to the Nest, her brow furrowed as she seemed to think about what she wanted to say. “ _It’s just… I hate that some asshole outed you and you’ve got to deal with this shit alone_ ,” she confessed in French. “ _Maybe it would be better if I came out, too_?”

He smiled at her even as he shook his head. “ _I appreciate it, I really do, but don’t rush into things because of me_.”

“ _I don’t want to hide who or what I am forever_ ,” she argued.

“ _I know, but you’ve just told your parents and what about Robin, hmm? What about the Peregrines? Besides, maybe it’s a bit much, both of us ‘coming out’ at the same time_.” He ‘bumped’ her back as Castle Evermore came into sight. “ _I’m not telling you to keep hiding, just to think about it a little more. Talk to your family and Robin, to Dan and Noguchi, too. See what they think_.”

“ _I hate that you’re taking shit on this when it’s not just you. I mean, we’re not the only ones on the team who could have a nice big coming out party_.” When he gaped at her for that, she rolled her eyes and reached over to tousle his hair. “ _Seriously, you need to pay attention to more than Exy and Andrew, Shorty_.”

“ _Why_?” He grinned when she groaned as if in pain. “ _I think I’ll keep on doing what I, uhm, do_.”

“ _Probably for the best, you break enough hearts as it is_.” Marley rolled her eyes again when he frowned in confusion over that comment. “I love ya, Shorty, you’re my beloved child,” she laughed when he elbowed her in the side for that comment, “but you’re oblivious as hell about some things.”

“If it’s along stuff like ‘what’s a bear’, I’d rather be oblivious,” he muttered.

“Ah hell, that was a good one.” Marley giggled in memory as they entered the Nest.

They finished their homework for the day before afternoon practice, where Neil was happy to lose himself in Exy for a few hours. Masato stopped by at dinner to go over the schedule for Saturday (Janna did something under the table to make Bren stop scowling at the man), which was along the lines of what Neil had expected – he’d have just enough time to get a short workout in with the team before he and Bren flew off to New York where he’d deal with two interviews and a new advertising campaign from Nike.

At least he’d be able to spend the rest of the night with Andrew; with all of the attention focused on him because of the ‘outing’, it wasn’t considered wise for him to be seen near Ichirou for the time being.

Due to the time difference, Neil was able to talk to Jean before his friend’s game with the Los Angeles Stars that night. “How much has Jeremy been complaining about you being on the West Coast while his team is in the Midwest this weekend?”

“I’m about to block his calls.” Jean sounded a rather disgruntled, but Neil was certain that his friend missed his boyfriend or else Jeremy would already be blocked.

“Then you’ll be happy to know that Andrew’s spending the weekend with me in New York.”

“I’m delighted in knowing that I’ll be on the other side of the country from the two of you,” Jean snapped, then went on to complain for five whole minutes about perverted Americans and inconsiderate British devils while Neil smiled.

It made him feel good, knowing that Jean was doing so well.

Eventually, even Jean had to run out of insults, his voice faltering for a moment as he cleared his throat. “So, you’re all right? You seemed unhappy during the interview yesterday, and now you have to do more, yes? That’s why you’re in New York?”

“More pandering to the press, yes,” Neil agreed. “But it’s…. I hate how it happened, but in a way it’s all right because no more hiding what’s going on with Andrew,” he admitted. “I know it makes things difficult, but it’s not like people don’t insult me all of the time because of my father or the damn tattoo on my cheek or everything else. I can put up with it if it means I don’t have to sneak around to be with Andrew.” He thought that Andrew felt the same – at the least, it meant less effort on the lazy bastard’s part.

“Only a fool of a devil like you would think that way,” Jean informed him, but there was affection in his deep voice.

“Yeah, well, I’m used to the insults out on court at that point,” Neil huffed. “And putting up with the damn interviews. At least this time, I get something out of all of it.”

“True.” Jean didn’t say anything for about a minute, long enough for Neil to contemplate climbing out onto the roof for the rest of the call; before he could open the window, his friend spoke again. “Jeremy’s wondering if he should make an announcement, you know. Hold a press conference and say that he’s pan.”

“Uhm… I thought he was Scottish and Dutch?”

Jean sighed out a prayer for patience when dealing with British devils. “Pansexual. He would announce that he’s gay.”

“Oh.” Why was everything so confusing when it came to people liking other people? Why did everyone care so much about labels? “Marley’s considering much the same, I told her to think about it first and talk to her family and Coach before she did anything.”

“I told him not to rush into anything, either. I’m sure Radcliffe knows we’re… well, I’m sure he knows about us because of Declan and Ichirou having Bren and the others around you all of the time, but it’s one thing for that man to know and another for everyone else.” Jean made a tsk’ing sound for a moment. “If he wants to be traded to the Barons, it’ll be easier without some sort of scandal or drama associated with his name.”

Neil thought it was a rather depressing thing, that one’s sexuality was a ‘scandal’, but he’d caused enough ‘drama’ in his four years as a Raven and now Andrew was starting the team with this mess to his name, so perhaps Jean had a point. At the least, Jeremy should wait until things calmed down, because once he was ‘out’, Jean wouldn’t be too far behind (since they were together) and that would impact the Barons, too.

“Why is everything so complicated?”

Neil expected Jean to say something about British devils or troublesome fools, but instead his friend sighed. “It’ll get better. As you said, the two of you can be together now and I’m certain other players besides Marley will step forward – Jeremy said Sara and Laila were talking about it and I’m sure they’re not the only ones. Give it time.”

Neil chewed on his bottom lip as he fought not to smile. “Did something happen during practice? Are you feeling all right? That was… that was downright optimistic for you, Crusty. What’s going on?”

He laughed while Jean called him names then hung up on him, and had a few minutes to catch Marley up on everything before they left for night-time practice. Along the way, she talked to him about Robin and Meg.

At least he was able to take a nap once on the plane the next morning, body aching from the intense work-out and all the hours spent out on court during the week. It seemed that as soon as they landed in New York that he was whisked away for the first of the two interviews, where he had to smile and talk about personal things, about Andrew and how he’d never been attracted to anyone else.

“But you like guys, right?” the hostess, Julie, asked as she leaned in a little too close.

“No, I like Andrew,” Neil insisted as he struggled not to squirm in the padded chair, dressed in a black and red shirt with black slacks.

“Does that mean there’s still hope that some cute girl can sweep you off your feet?” she asked while giving him an exaggerated wink as her male co-host laughed.

“ _No_ ,” he told her in a flat manner. “Not while I’m with Andrew.”

The host must have picked up on Neil’s temper because he cleared his throat. “Now about you and Andrew playing for different teams. Ha, well, I mean Exy,” he said while Julie giggled. “Isn’t that a problem? How do you play against each other?”

“It’s not a problem,” Neil insisted while he struggled to remain calm. “We’ve always been on opposite teams, back before we were even friends, and we enjoy trying to best each other – it’s a challenge to us. Getting together didn’t change that at all, just like it doesn’t affect other couples who currently play on opposing teams.”

He thought they were disappointed that they couldn’t rattle him, couldn’t get the answers they wanted. It was difficult not to grin when he wondered how Andrew was fairing with his own interviews.

The second one went little better than the first; it was with a sports magazine so it was more focused on Exy and ‘serious’, but still spent too much attention on Neil’s relationship with Andrew, how it might affect the upcoming semi-playoffs since it was back down to the Ravens, Trojans and Foxes (funny, it hadn’t before then), and their sexuality.

By the time Bren drove him to a rented court where Nike had set things up for a photo shoot, Neil was more than willing to throw balls at a net and jump around for a bit to burn off some of the frustration he felt. He pushed down the discomfort he felt over being touched and fussed over to be prepared for the photographs, somewhat used to it at that point, then exhausted himself as much as possible over the next few hours while wearing rainbow-themed sneakers, t-shirts and jackets.

“You okay, Red?” Bren asked when he slumped into the back seat of the SUV, worn out and unwilling to deal with any more people.

“Tired,” Neil admitted as he rubbed at his face, still a little raw from scrubbing off the make-up.

“Well, you’ll be happy to know that a certain grumpy Yank is waiting for you in the apartment. I told him we’re on our way.” Bren held up his phone for a moment. “Should I tie a red bow around you before we get there?”

Neil managed to semi-right himself long enough to make a rude gesture his friend’s way. “Do you know how many places there are to hide your body in this city? Unlike Andrew, I don’t have a problem with doing that,” he said as he fell back down in a prone position on the wonderfully soft, large back seat.

“Ha! A scrawny little ginger like you? You couldn’t budge me more than a half a meter, I’m willing to bet,” Bren gloated as he tossed his phone onto the passenger seat.

“You’d still be dead,” Neil pointed out.

“Yeah, but you’re a Hatford, you always think that shit out before you do it so I’m safe. Mostly safe,” he was quick to correct. “I’ll only worry if Jamie shows up looking for blood or pushing a dolly. Now Andrew? He’s stab-happy when it comes to you so he’s a bit tricky.”

“I hate you and my life,” Neil declared as he closed his eyes. “Just saying.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll be home in about ten minutes, fifteen is traffic’s a bitch.”

Safe with Bren, Neil allowed himself to drift in that ‘not quite asleep’ place until they reached the apartment complex, where he wavered on his feet to the elevator then woke up a little more as it climbed to the proper floor. Bren saw him to the door of his apartment then wished him a cheeky ‘good night’, and as soon as he stepped inside, Andrew was waiting.

“You look like shit.”

Andrew was dressed in black sweatpants and a black tank top that left his armbands exposed, a faint scowl on his face and his arms crossed over his impressive chest. Neil gazed at him for a couple of seconds then let his bag drop to the floor before he rubbed at his aching eyes. “Long day. Long week.”

All Andrew did was huff once before he dragged Neil to the kitchen, where he was pushed up onto the counter and a mug of tea shoved into his hands; once that was done, Andrew returned to the stove where he apparently was making some mac and cheese.

“How was your day?” Neil asked after he blew on the tea to cool it.

Andrew’s brows drew together for a couple of seconds before his expression smoothed out. “It seems you’re on to something as the best way to deal with people interviewing you is to annoy the fuck out of them.”

Neil blinked at that then smiled. “Okay, I _have_ to watch those interviews now. But will you get in trouble for anything?” He’d been mostly on good behavior that day for once, just so Masato and Ichirou couldn’t complain.

His boyfriend shrugged as he drained the pasta and added it to the cheese sauce. “I showed up, answered the majority of the questions and didn’t kill or maim anyone, so Radcliffe or the insecure little prick can’t say shit. Even Daniels was impressed.” He put the dish into the oven then picked up a glass of whisky before he turned toward Neil. “Did you bring me any stupid sneakers today?”

“They all had rainbows on them, somehow I figured you’d make me eat them if I tried to give them to you.” Neil smiled as he held the mug between his two hands and remembered Andrew’s responses to the red glitter pair.

“Maybe you’re not entirely an idiot,” Andrew drawled before he tossed back the alcohol then went to stand between Neil’s legs, his hands on Neil’s hips when Neil smiled at him. “You didn’t have to go along with it, you know.”

It might have been due to the exhaustion that Neil needed a couple of seconds to realize that Andrew was talking about the whole ‘outing’ thing, which made him sigh as he set the half-empty mug aside and drape his arms over the stubborn bastard’s (built) shoulders. “No, I didn’t but I did. I _wanted_ to,” he stressed. “It’s the first time that I didn’t care that everyone found out something in regards to me, though yeah, I’m still upset over how it happened.” When Andrew frowned, the motion slight but noticeable (to Neil), he wrapped his legs loosely around his boyfriend’s thick thighs. “It would have been nice to have a _say_ in it for once, to choose when it happened, but that’s my only complaint.”

Andrew clicked his tongue before he shifted closer. “You’re such an idiot.”

“No I’m not, you just said I wasn’t,” Neil argued as he savored the heat from Andrew’s solid body, the feel of him so close by, the scent of his cologne.

“I said you weren’t that _much_ of an idiot, but even I can make mistakes from time to time.” Andrew’s fingers slid into Neil’s hair and tugged his head down. “Yes?”

“Always ‘yes’ with you,” Neil reminded him as his eyes fluttered shut.

“See, you just proved me right,” Andrew breathed out before he kissed Neil.

Maybe because Neil was tired or because dinner was cooking in the oven, but Andrew kept it to just making out, Neil sliding onto his feet and pressed against the counter while the bastard stole his breath away, hands gentle as they slid beneath his Ravens’ sweatshirt to stroke along his back. Still, it was _Andrew_ kissing and touching him, pressing against him until he was dizzy with _sensation_ , with _feeling_ so much after a week of stress and exertion and anger and confusion.

As always, Andrew grounded him, soothed the raw edges and fit back together the broken pieces.

When a phone beeped to remind them of what was in the oven, Andrew pulled away to check on their dinner and Neil finished his then cold tea. They sat down to eat (Andrew made Neil have an entire bowl of mac and cheese since he’d barely eaten all day) and talked about a couple of possible sponsors for Andrew (Under Amour and Livelihood). Despite the long week, Neil found himself relaxing and enjoying the meal, was happy that Andrew had come to the city instead of going off to Columbia with his family.

They discussed Andrew’s plans for the apartment while Neil did the dishes (only fair since Andrew had cooked) and Andrew had some ice cream; the furniture had been ordered and as soon as the current resident moved out (another month), Andrew would have the place cleaned and painted before he moved in. It always surprised Neil how little was left in the current semester, that soon enough Andrew would graduate and that next year it would just be him and Marley (and Meg and Robin), that he’d have to play a year where he couldn’t look forward to seeing Andrew at any of the banquets or across the court.

Yet he’d see his boyfriend when he came to the city (and Andrew wasn’t away with the Barons because of games). He wouldn’t have to hide the relationship anymore and could cheer Andrew (and Jean) on at the Barons’ stadium, could spend days out with him (when he wasn’t busy with Ichirou). And once that year was over? They’d be on the same team, would be just down the hall from each other and could spend so much time together.

He’d managed a year with Riko, longer with Tetsuji, so he could finish out his university years without Andrew (and Jean) when he knew that ‘soon’ enough he’d have his lover and best friend at his side for his pro career. He’d miss Marley, but she’d been looking forward to playing for the Peregrines for _years_ , almost as long as she could hold a racquet in her hands, and he’d see her when their teams met out on court if not sooner (there was that spare bedroom for a reason). Hell, _he_ was looking forward to playing against her on court and knew she felt the same, to putting their skills to the test, to growing better and becoming the best (or the best they could be).

They may not be ‘destined’ for the same pro team (it was better if she wasn’t tied to the Barons, to the Moriyamas any more than she already was as his partner in the Ravens and as someone he’d made a deal to protect), but there was hope that they’d play together when it came to Court (assume that he didn’t sign for Britain and her for India – somehow, he didn’t think he’d be allowed that option and Marley was too American when it came down to it).

No, he had a feeling that they’d play together one day, and would enjoy both the times when they faced off on court and were on the same team. One thing being a Raven had taught them was being competitive without destroying the bond shared between them – they would always strive to best one another, to consider the other a bar that needed to be surpassed, yet that never changed the fact that they were partners and friends.

Neil didn’t know how it was with other teams, if there was that ‘I’ll do my best to beat you but we’re in this together to the very end’ mentality (somehow he doubted it whenever he heard Andrew and Meg talk about Matheson and Hurst), but there was _one_ good thing about being a Raven at least. Something that he and Noguchi and Dan did their best to foster onward past the ‘Tetsuji’ days.

The pairing mentality wouldn’t go away, though it was tempered somewhat (it wasn’t necessary to survive Tetsuji and Riko). The team thrived best when they were synched together, when they knew they could rely on each other, when someone had their back without any qualms, though they also had to know that they would one day leave Edgar Allan and face the ‘real world’.

Not everyone would be so lucky as Neil and have his former (main) partner at his back, along with the one other person he most trusted in the world.

Then again, not everyone was like Neil and needed two of the people he most trusted in the world at his back at most times.

Andrew seemed to pick up on his distracted thoughts and led him to the bedroom after the dishes were done, where Neil was grateful to lie down after a quick shower. He fell to sleep soon after that, content to have Andrew next to him (ebook in one hand and fingers combing through Neil’s damp hair), and slept through the night without much disturbance.

He woke up at one point and lay in the bed debating whether or not to get up and go for a run until Andrew stirred and pulled him close for a kiss which led to a much more pleasurable distraction, and enjoyed a rare day where he indulged in ‘placating’ his boyfriend (something he should do more often, really).

They went out for breakfast eventually (trailed by Bren), Andrew quiet and stiff, which made Neil want to pull back and stay in the apartment until Andrew reached for and squeezed his hand. “ _Daniels’ idea, and I have to agree. We’re placating your **damn** fans_ ,” Andrew explained. “ _We get some caffeine and an obscene amount of sugar, no remarks from an idiot bird, and go back to the apartment until it’s time to fly away home_.”

Neil was quiet for about half a block until he smiled and hugged Andrew’s hand to his chest. “ _You’ll do anything for your precious baked goods, won’t you? Should I kiss you while you order half the inventory? Beam like a proud idiot over your sugar addiction? Or at least not seemed pained by your pending diabetes and how I support you all the same?_ ”

Andrew swiped his free hand over his face while he gazed ahead as if faced with some awful trial. “ _150%, Josten_.”

Neil had no idea what he’d done just then when he’d tried to be supporting – well, as supporting as he could be of a sugar addict. “ _Okay, so I won’t mention your impending kidney failure, got it._ _I suppose I’ll just have to get used to it.”_

He was given a smack to the back of his head for his ‘caring’ attitude. Why the hell Bren didn’t shoot Andrew for it, Neil would never understand (Janna would do it, he was certain).

Daniels should be happy with the fuss from them showing up together at the one coffee shop, that was certain. There were at least a dozen of phones pulled out as they walked in together and waited in line to place their order (Andrew bought enough for four people), Andrew’s left arm around Neil’s waist the entire time. The regulars faltered at first to see Neil with someone other than Jean then rallied with bright smiles and offered several suggestions to Andrew once they realized that he favored sweets, and somehow they ended up with more in the large box than they had ordered (which of course made a certain sugar-addicted bastard happy).

(“We’ll be going back there,” Andrew declared as he bit into a chocolate covered monstrosity while Neil nibbled on his Earl Grey scone.

“I figured,” Neil said after he washed down the baked good with some tea. “You do know there’s a gym on the third floor, right?” He was given a rude gesture for that bit of knowledge.)

They were asked for a few photographs on their way out of the café, which surprised Neil, especially when a young man went on about how much it mattered to him that they’d gone public with their relationship and that he played a sport himself. Neil wished him ‘good luck’ and thought that Andrew showed a bit more patience than usual before motioning for them to leave.

“You’re a role model now,” Neil said when Andrew even quieter than normal, only partially teasing.

Andrew’s thick brows pulled together and he shook his head. “I figured that would be more Nicky or Aaron’s thing. The best I could hope for was getting through university without stabbing anyone.” He seemed to think about that statement and huffed. “Seriously stabbing anyone.”

“Life can be strange.” Neil had never thought that he’d be playing Exy for a living and have a boyfriend, that his father would be dead and he’d have some sort of stable future ahead of him.

The whole Moriyama thing aside, he was happy.

They practiced knife fighting then did some homework before they had to fly back to their respective campuses. Most likely the Ravens would be out in California that week or the next, considering past years, with the alternative being the Foxes playing the Trojans, and all three of the teams would be expected to spend all of their spare time practicing and promoting their schools.

In other words, Neil and Andrew wouldn’t get to see each other much before graduation other than when their teams played against each other. Only the thought of meeting back up in the city as Neil enjoyed his short summer break and Andrew moved into his new apartment allowed him to pull away from his boyfriend when it was time for Andrew to leave for an earlier flight.

He was quiet and lost in thought when Bren drove them to the airport about an hour later, and surprised to find Stuart waiting at the hangar holding Ichirou’s private plane. “Is everything all right?” Neil asked his uncle as Bren grabbed his bag to take onboard ahead of him.

“As good as can be expected, kiddo,” Stuart (mostly) assured him. “Just wanted a chance to speak with you, considering everything.”

Neil took that to mean the whole media thing and probably the attack on the cabin by his father’s men. “Okay.” He studied his uncle and gave a wan smile. “You look tired.”

“Been running all over lately.” Stuart went to pull out a pack of cigarettes then seemed to think better of it. “But you… you look good. Those gossip hounds aren’t giving you too much grief, are they?”

“The university’s good about kicking them off campus, and I think after this past game, Noguchi and Dan’s gotten them under control,” Neil admitted with a slight grimace. “It’ll die down eventually, it always does, and you heard Ichirou. Long as the endorsements are fine, he’s… well, as long as the endorsements are fine.” Neil would handle the shit out on court as always, and he didn’t care if some fans hated him.

Stuart regarded him for several seconds as if judging the truth behind his words before nodding. “It’ll get better. I know it was pretty shitty but things seem to be working out in the end.” He paused to rub at an old scar on his left wrist. “Minyard’s stepping up to smooth things over, him coming here this weekend helped.”

Well, it hadn’t been all about PR stuff but yes, Neil was certain that Radcliffe had to be pleased that Andrew was honoring part of his agreement with the Barons and ‘dealing’ with press at last. “Guess he picked up a few things from Day after all.”

“Right, Day.” Stuart gave Neil a doubtful look. “Minyard may not be one of my favorite people, Nathaniel, but I have to admit that he does right by you. Learn something that Mary never did, okay?” Neil stiffened at mention of his mother. “She thought because that prick Nathan wouldn’t hesitate to get his hands dirty that he’d do anything for her when it wasn’t true.” Hate made his voice rougher than normal and glittered in his pale eyes. “He wouldn’t burn the world down for her, he just liked destroying things, _including_ her.”

“I know,” Neil admitted, his own voice rough, though with remembered pain – pain for what his father had done both to his mother and him.

Something akin to pity softened Stuart’s expression. “I know you do, kiddo, and I know… I know Minyard’s different. One thing that’s obvious by now is that even if he’s just as destructive in his own way as Wesninski,” he was quick to hold up a hand when Neil glared at that comment, “he _will_ tear anything and anyone apart to keep you safe. And that’s who you need at your back when you’re willing to barter your soul to a devil ten times over, not someone like Ichirou.”

Neil didn’t know what to say to that at first, not when Stuart appeared to approve of Andrew (and him being in a relationship); he knew that his uncle had played a part in arranging Andrew’s ‘deal’ with Ichirou, but had thought that Stuart had only done it as a means to get him away from the Moriyama lord. “Andrew… will always be there for me,” he acknowledged. “But you’ll be there too, you and the rest of the Hatfords, right?” Him and Jamie, Bren and Janna and everyone else; Neil felt a stab of anxiety at the thought of losing them even though he’d survived so long without his mother’s family.

“Of course, kiddo. We’re not going anywhere.” Stuart reached out to tousle his hair. “Just wanted to make sure you didn’t let this latest bit of nonsense scare you off. Now get going, can’t keep holding up the plane forever, and good luck on your games.”

Neil waved goodbye before he ran up the steps to board the plane, and sent a text to Andrew about Stuart saying something nice about him for once while the plane taxied on the runway. There was a message when they landed in Charleston asking if Stuart had been drunk or had lost too much blood, which made Neil smile.

As expected, it was a hectic week as the semi-playoff schedule was released and it came out that the Ravens would play the Trojans first then the Trojans would be up against the Foxes. Marley complained about having to wait a few weeks to see Robin again (and how it would most likely only be for one game as the Foxes weren’t doing that well and would likely lose against the Trojans)… and then Ethan brought up the forum posts.

Some of the teams (Penn State, Binghamton, Breckenridge – mostly the ones whom the Ravens trounced when out on the court and so had an ax to grind against them) were posting derogatory remarks about Neil and the Ravens, counting on being safe from any retaliation from the ERC since their season was done and it was about Neil’s sexuality, not about the ‘incident’ from the previous summer. The players and their fans tore into Neil and even Andrew, accused Neil of ‘bribing’ Andrew and other players to score points in games as well as to earn his captaincy on the team – to earn a spot as Perfect Court.

Surprisingly (at least to Neil), the Ravens’ fans were fighting back, along with a good bit of other Class I fans, drawing more and more attention to the posts. “There’s been over a hundred thousand posts since I saw this earlier,” Ethan told them as he set his phone down on the table. “If the ERC hasn’t seen it before now, they will soon. It’s already getting some media attention.”

Marley scowled as she started typing on her own phone. “It’s about to get another hit, those corpse-fu- hey!” She glared at Dan, who’d snatched away her phone. “What?”

“Oh no, you don’t go adding fuel to that particular fire, hon. Stay away from the hornet’s nest because the ERC will start cracking down soon enough, trust me. Hiro and the Board are raising hell already, along with some other coaches,” Dan told them. “Wymack, Rheman, O’Connell, LaRue and almost a dozen others have been waiting for something to make a stand on and this is it.”

“What kind of ‘stand’?” Marley asked with suspicion as she snatched her phone back.

“Zero tolerance for any type of prejudice over harassment, be it based on one’s sexual identity, race or gender.” When Ethan, Marley and Neil made various expressions of doubt over that, Dan had the grace to appear sheepish. “I’m not saying they’re going to get that, but it’s a start. They’re going to push for some sort of official punishment for these assholes at last, standard across the board, and for protections against LGBTQA+ players. Even if they only get half of what they want, it’s a good start.” Her expression grew determined as she pushed aside her half-finished meal. “These assholes need to start acting like civilized, mature human beings.”

“If you’d just let me melt the lungs of a few of them, I’m sure it would have the rest of them falling in line,” Marley argued as she set her phone aside.

“I have to say, I’m with her on this one.” Neil frowned at his pile of spinach but since Jean wasn’t around to make him eat it, ignored it in favor of the apple. “Nothing says ‘incentive to behave’ like seeing your fellow asshole throwing up his lungs in a bloody mess.” Or bleed out next to you, it was much the same thing.

Ethan gave a nervous laugh yet nodded along. “I’m gonna cast my vote with them because who’s going to argue with that?”

Dan sighed as she rubbed her forehead. “I just want one team where everyone’s sane. _One team_.”

Bren gave her a sympathetic pat on the back. “Maybe try swimming? They look much more relaxed, the swim team. I think it’s the water. Meanwhile, you’re letting these hooligans run around with sticks all day, it’s not a good thing.”

“I don’t know, I quite like being able to hit people with sticks,” Marley said with a wide grin. “It’s relaxing for _me_.”

“You’re not winning that argument,” Janna mock-whispered to her. “This is where you pretend that you couldn’t hurt a single soul, right Neil?”

“Yep,” he agreed. “You really need to get your innocent act down a lot better.”

Meanwhile, Ethan was busy on his phone. “I’m not taking notes right now, honest. Innocent… act…. Got it.”

“Just where was it that I went wrong with my life?” Dan mused aloud with her right hand over her eyes. “Renee would know.”

Neil was glad that someone knew, because he often pondered that same question.

The ERC stepped in by the next day (not exactly in a big hurry it seemed), but at that point, the Ravens were playing the Trojans and the Foxes for the semi-final games so they weren’t expecting anything like the insults and harassment they’d put up with in the previous game or other seasons. Not when the Trojans had the best sportsmanship in the Class I division (and several gay players, past and present, even if they weren’t ‘out’ yet because of hopes of professional careers), and Wymack wouldn’t allow the few assholes (Matheson and Hurst) on his team to cause any problems. There were reporters on campus leading up to the game on Friday, but Noguchi ensured that they focused on the entire team and didn’t bother Neil.

He missed flying to Southern California without Jean, missed being able to tease his partner about Jeremy, but he and Marley talked in French for most of the flight about the two young men (when not preparing for the game).

“ _I’ll bet you ten bucks that Surfer Boy’s gonna wait until he’s traded to the team to both come out and declare his undying devotion to Crusty. It’ll be the first game, and right at the end he’ll swoop Crusty off his feet and plant a kiss on those pouty lips in front of a full stadium crowd_ ,” Marley proclaimed with a wide grin.

“Uhm, huh.” Neil tried to picture Jeremy ‘swooping’ in on Jean: there was the whole height difference thing and the fact that he didn’t think that Jean would take well to ‘swooping’ in the first place. “ _I **can** see him doing that, and I can also see Jean immediately eviscerate him with a racquet_.”

Marley frowned as she chewed on a hangnail. “ _Hmm, very true. We **have** to be there for that game_!”

“ _I suppose someone will have to bail Jean out, it might as well be us_ ,” Neil sighed. “ _Even though he’d leave us in jail overnight ‘to teach you fools a lesson’._ ”

“ _Yeah, that’s Crusty for ya, but we are the Three Musketeers, we’re there when one of us commits attempted homicide in front of thousands of witnesses_ ,” Marley said with a shrug.

Where was Bren and that damn flask of potent whisky when Neil needed it?

As expected, the Trojans were all smiles and friendly greetings for the Ravens, and weren’t put off by the distant attitude on the team’s part (Neil, Marley and the others _tried,_ they did, because the Trojans hadn’t ever gone after their weaknesses on or off-court or attempted to tear them down, but they were _rivals_ , were people they’d soon rip apart on court once the buzzer rang so…). Sanchez and Cadavid talked with Neil and Marley while Rhemann chatted with Noguchi and Dan about the line-up for the night, a meeting of captains and co-captains that was less stilted than usual since there were no hang-ups over Sanchez and Marley being women or jealousy over the team’s ranking. It was clear that the Trojans, as always, were determined to win, to displace the Ravens as the division champions, but it was also clear that if they lost, they would accept that they’d given it their all and that the Ravens were still the better team ( _that_ year, at least).

Their fans were better behaved than most teams as well, and had rainbow-hued signs scattered throughout the stadium in support of Neil even as they cheered for their own players. If anything, it was an odd atmosphere, but one he preferred to the jeers and boos from previous games. Not that it mattered much once the buzzer sounded.

As expected, the Trojans did their best to gain control of the game and score enough points to put them in the lead during the first half. Sanchez was a much better captain that year, was more certain of herself and her team (an advantage over Neil), but the Ravens were used to closing ranks under adversity and Neil refused to lose (he _couldn’t_ lose). The Trojans were great players and he suspected that they would be the team to break the Ravens’ winning streak one day, but he refused to allow it to happen that year.

“We’re going to see you at Evermore,” Sanchez told him with a determined grin when they shook hands after the game. “This is my last chance to win that championship.”

“We look forward to seeing you there, but don’t tell Meg I said that to you.” Neil smiled when Sanchez laughed at his response and promised not to rat him out to his friend when they played the Foxes next week.

Since it was toward the end of the semester and they wanted to avoid any drama (meaning any paparazzi), the team flew back that evening rather than stay the night out on California. Neil texted with Andrew while waiting for the flight and let him know when they landed, but didn’t get a chance to talk until Saturday afternoon.

“Ask Bren about any good spots to hide a body in Houston.”

“Ah, and ‘hello’ to you, too,” Neil said as he gazed out over the campus from his spot on the roof. “Houston? Would that have something to do with Day?”

“I told him that I’ve a deal lined up with Under Armour and he spent fifteen minutes lecturing me on how to behave on a photo shoot before I hung up on him, then tried to call me back for another half an hour. This from the guy who couldn’t last as an assistant coach for three months.”

Neil smiled as he hugged his knees against his chest. “Soon enough you’ll be playing against him. Think of how much it’ll upset him when you block him from the goal.”

“I’d rather bury his body in some field.”

“Kick his ass on court then kill him and bury him in some deserted field?”

Andrew seemed to consider that for a bit. “An option.”

“Glad to be of assistance.” Neil smiled as he thought about Andrew dealing with a ‘helpful’ Day. “Any other dubious life advice I can provide? I’ve some great tips for laundering money.” While he spoke, Marley poked her head out the window, gave him a curious look then leaned on her elbows to listen in on the conversation. “I think Marley’s gonna hit me up later on that topic.”

“Yeah, need to make sure my parents have a really nice nest egg, after all,” she called out. “Max spends it all on fancy cars, Malcom’s a miser and has it tied up in too many long-term investments, and Maddie’s too much of a sweetheart and is always donating to various charities.”

“You’re both a plague sent to drive people insane,” Andrew commented in a deceptively mild tone of voice.

“Hmm, funny, Jean’s remarked that a time or two. You’re going to get along with him _so well_ ,” Neil insisted with a smile while Marley laughed.

“I hate you _so much_ ,” Andrew said before hanging up.

“He _hates me_ ,” Neil told Marley in a solemn manner. “He really does.”

“Yeah, Shorty, must be why he always mauls your neck whenever you two spend any time together.” She rolled her eyes while she reached out to grab onto the sleeves of his cat hoodie. “Probably going for your jugular or something.”

Neil gasped as if horrified. “Is _that_ it? And here I thought he was cleaning me of mites.” He continued to appear appalled until Marley scoffed as she dragged him into their room.

“Okay, you had me going for a moment there, you bastard.” They fell down together on Neil’s bed, Marley’s arms wrapped around his shoulders. “I was thinking that we’d have to stage some sort of intervention for you at Dan’s house tonight, the five of us put on a show to teach you all about sex.”

The mental image of his friends doing such a thing made Neil grimace. “I’d rather throw myself off the roof, thanks. And you’re not even interested in it, what do you know?” he asked as he elbowed his partner in the side.

Marley rolled her eyes as she sat up. “Puh-leaze, I had two older brothers and an older sister, as well as a mother who’s a doctor. I was correcting the poor teacher on things when it was time for us eighth graders to suffer through that wonderful ‘very special class’.”

He smiled as she told him the story, as always amazed at how carefree yet assured she’d been as a child, raised to think for herself and certain that she had her parents’ support. He felt a pang of envy over that fact and couldn’t imagine his mother allowing him so much freedom.

No, his mother had been so certain that she knew what was best for him, that she could keep him safe with lies and violence and motion. She’d despise everything about his current life, that he played Exy and had formed bonds with people, that the truth had come out about his past and that he dared to have some sort of future.

That he dared to have some sort of future with another person, to have a _relationship_.

Try as he might, Neil refused to feel any guilt over that fact. He would always regret his mother’s death, that she’d given up so much for his sake, but not that he’d stop running, not any longer. There’d been pain and new nightmares, new scars (Riko and Federov and the others), was the tattoo on his cheek and his ties to the Moriyamas, but for the first time ever, he had a chance of a home.

It was worth it.

*******

Andrew told himself just a few more weeks of practice, of getting up so damn early in the morning to deal with his cousin and brother and the rest of the Foxes, of having to put up with Wymack and his lousy attempts to motivate the team when they were going to face (and lose to) the two best teams in the division.

When Andrew had to put up with teasing from his teammates over the interviews he'd done in New York the previous weekend ('oh my gawd, Andrew actually looked fucking hot there, something's not right with me!', 'maybe we should get Minyard's autograph now since it might be worth money one day'). Unsurprisingly, Matheson and Hurst were sullen assholes who could barely stand to look at him, which was for the best because Neil would throttle Andrew if he was expelled so close to graduation (at the least) for beating up fellow students.

Some people were just so unreasonable.

Wymack came up to Andrew during afternoon practice while he was sprawled on the bench and sat nearby. "Nice to see you can actually clean up and behave if you want."

Andrew slanted him an unimpressed look as he twirled his massive racquet between his hands. "There's a reason why no one ever claimed you were funny, Coach."

"And no one ever said you played well with others," Wymack shot back, which Andrew gave him with a slight shrug. "But you stepped up this past weekend, I have to admit. I always thought you’d have to be tied up and near death with alcohol poisoning to sit through an interview like that, but you got through it while making a point and not committing homicide in front of witnesses. I’m proud of you.”

“That would mean more if you weren’t also proud of those losers out there on court,” Andrew pointed out.

“Yeah, well, what can I say, dealing with your shit for nearly five years has taught me to set the bar really low.” Wymack nodded to him as he stood up. “Little more than a month and you’re Josten’s problem, may God have mercy on his soul.”

Ha, as if Neil had a religious bone in his rather flexible body (one of the few things Andrew was grateful for in the world). What Andrew wasn’t grateful about, a rather long list all in all? How a certain little bird was too busy with practice to talk very much during the week leading up to the Ravens’ game with the Trojans, other than to complain about classes and mandatory therapy visits and stupid forum posts. To be fair, Andrew was busy as well with a couple of papers and practice and getting everything ready for the move to New York, so he couldn’t complain (too much).

Daniels sent him some paperwork to sign for his first official endorsement, a rather impressive sum from Under Armour to represent the company (even with the 40% cut going to Ichirou). After suppressing the urge to burn the contract, he forced himself to sign it as he thought about Neil and graduation presents for Aaron and Nicky.

Kevin called during the Ravens’ game to talk about how well Neil was playing, and for some (stupid) reason Andrew brought up the contract, which ended up being a huge mistake. What _might_ have been an attempt to ensure that he’d gotten a good deal (he had, nice to know that Daniels wasn’t an idiot) turned into Kevin lecturing him on how to be a kiss-ass to the sponsor and the ‘fans’ (as if Andrew gave a shit).  

Someone better invest in a really good helmet come next season.

Andrew put up with Neil’s teasing (another two weeks before they’d see each other, a little longer than that again before they’d spend a couple of weeks together in New York) then he left to join Aaron, Nicky, Katelyn and Robin for dinner. It was a little tiresome, the ‘group’ meals, but Nicky was almost desperate to cram in as much ‘family’ time as possible before they graduated and somehow Katelyn and Robin had become ‘family’ (not Andrew’s take on it, yet something he’d decided that it was easier to ignore than fight).

(It made Aaron and Nicky and Neil happy, after all, and Bee gave him cake when he stopped by to complain about the damn thing.)

The Foxes were ‘lucky’ enough to have two home games for the semi-play offs, which meant no flying off to California to play against the Trojans.

Andrew spent some time talking to Neil Thursday night while up on the roof, and Friday was busy between class, various 'spirit' events happening around campus, and going to the stadium early to prepare for the game.

The press tried to get Andrew to take part of the pre-game interviews but he wasn't interested or inclined to 'play along'; he'd done enough to satisfy Daniels and the Barons and wasn't obligated to jump through hoops for a few more weeks when he was an official member of the pro team. Until then, he barely resisted the urge to give the people shouting out his name a rude gesture as he ducked into the long hallway leading to the locker rooms with his family and Robin.

Wymack ordered food for the team once everyone was gathered together (sandwiches and sides); they put up with him and Meg going over plays and stats while they ate as well as the usual lousy pep talk.

The rookie Foxes were all nervous energy to play a team like the Trojans, while the rest of them had an air of 'here we go again'. (Mostly) everyone wanted to win, to get one step closer to the final game and prove that the Foxes were the best team in the division, but Andrew knew it wasn't their year. Not when they had players like Matheson and Hurst still too interested in individual glory than teamwork and them about to play the two teams who exemplified that quality the best.

Wymack had Andrew guard the goal for the first half of the game in an attempt to keep the point spread to a minimum, and despite the loss of Kevin and Boyd, Andrew managed to keep the Trojans from gaining more than three points up on the Foxes. Unfortunately, the team fell apart in the second half when the Trojans slammed hard into the defense and Hurst got into a fight with the other team's dealer that earned her a red card.

Andrew called Neil once he was up on the roof, most of the team gathered in one of the study rooms in the basement of Fox Tower with the Vixens to drink away their disappointment.

"Well, tonight should prepare you for next week."

"Amusing," Andrew drawled as he flicked ash into the air. "Like I haven't heard enough 'loser' jokes from you over the years."

"Hmm, just think, you won't be hearing them for too much longer," Neil reminded him. "Only one more time when my team kicks your team's ass before you graduate."

If there wasn't a slight hitch to Neil's voice just then, Andrew would tell him what he could do with that 'one more time', but he frowned over that hint suspicious of tension.

"Chirp chirp, little bird. What's going on?" He grew tired of having to push for truth like that, but at least Neil started to 'sing' once prodded.

"Such an asshole," the stubborn fool muttered, much like always, before he sighed. "Since I'm staying away from him because of the publicity, Ichirou is sending me work again. Things are a little hectic with the play-offs and wrapping up classes."

Someone was back to that, were they? Andrew didn't understand how a person who supposedly cared so much about Neil could place him under so much stress at such a critical time. Instead of ranting about it, which would probably make Neil shut down or become upset, Andrew pulled a long drag on his cigarette then let it out. "Just a little longer now."

Neil didn't say anything for a few more breaths then let out a tired chuckle. "I know, I tell myself that every day. I get to look forward to kicking your ass next week and a break after that, then the Trojans before the end of the semester. Less than a month now."

"Nice to know that all those classes of yours aren't going to waste and you can tell time at least."

"Look who's talking. I'm sure some people suspect that PSU's only giving you a degree because Wymack harassed them into keeping you on campus that long," Neil joked, still a little 'off' but sounding better than earlier.

Andrew scoffed at that. "They're lucky I stuck around as long as I did." If it hadn't been for Aaron, he'd have never put up with the Foxes and so much horrid orange, let alone Exy.

Neil laughed at his denial and brought up their plans for next weekend, after the game; because of the chance of some asshole reporter or photographer tracking them down, they would skip Eden's and just stay at the house in Columbia.

They talked for another half an hour or so, until Neil's yawns kept breaking up his sentences, then Andrew stayed up on the roof a little longer before he returned to the dorm room to have a few shots of whiskey while everyone was still partying.

They left for Columbia in the morning to do some more boxing things up and cleaning the place, with Robin and Katelyn tagging along to help. Nicky was almost ready to leave for Germany after graduation and would break into random bout of tears as he gazed at Andrew and Aaron for some reason.

Andrew made lots of excuses to stay up in his room until it was time to return to campus.

He didn't know if Nicky's strange mood was contagious or affected him somehow, but he found himself... 'shutting down' in a way on Sunday, after his practice with Meg down in the basement and before he was to head to the stadium for the evening session with the 'happy couple' and Robin.

Except he couldn't find the energy to leave Fox Tower and went up to the roof instead with a bottle of whiskey, a pack of cigarettes and his phone, where he ignored the texts and calls from his teammates and family.

After a couple of hours there was a call from Neil, which he answered after a few rings. "Bad night?"

He let the silence speak for him, and Neil sighed a few seconds later. "Ah. Meg reached out to me since you didn't show up." He paused again. "Do you want me to talk? Should I go?"

Andrew had a swig of whiskey before he answered. "Keep talking." Something in him settled at how Neil had called to check on him yet would leave him alone if he wanted. "I'm just... just tired."

"Okay." Neil went on to talk about his day, and Andrew grunted or made a single word comment here and there until it was time for Neil to go to bed for the night.

He skipped practice and classes the next day to see Bee, and they sat in her office sipping hot chocolate and eating donuts while she talked about how so many changes could be unsettling, how he’d based his life around Aaron and Nicky for the last few years and done a  great job of protecting them as well as of learning to let go, but it was still expected for there to be some sort of reaction to everything. That he had his new home to look forward to (the first one to truly call his ‘own’), an apartment and car which he’d paid for with money he’d earned, and a relationship he’d worked so hard to build between him and Neil.

It wasn’t really an ending even if Aaron and Nicky were moving on with their own lives, Bee kept reminding him, but new beginnings for all three of them. They each had lovers they were moving forward with (or in Nicky’s case, rejoining), and the thing about families was that they grew over time, took in new people while still embracing everyone else (more or less, Bee acknowledged with a sad smile). Neil and Katelyn and Erik were just coming on board as the Minyard/Hemmick clan spread its roots past South Carolina.

“You talk too much,” Andrew said with a weary sigh as he grabbed the last cream-filled donut. “Enough, I get it. We’re like an infection, we’ve multiplied and are spreading and can’t be wiped out so easily.”

“Not quite the image I was going for there, but if it’s one you can live with and puts you at ease, good.” Bee’s smile was rueful as she got up to make a fresh mug of hot chocolate. “And it’s rather difficult to do my job _without_ talking. Charades and drawing pictures just don’t have the same impact.”

“I don’t know,” Andrew mused as he broke the donut apart. “Might be interesting to try one day. How are you at miming?”

Bee gave him a look which clearly expressed that she wasn’t paid enough (very likely true) as she returned to her chair. “If you ever try to Facetime me, I’m not going to accept.”

Some people had no sense of adventure.

He shouldn’t need such ‘pat’ reassurances, but it got better after that. There was still a slight ache in his chest as he thought about his impending graduation, as things were slowly packed away in the dorm room or given away to the rest of the Foxes (one less item to take to Germany or Chicago or New York), but there would be texts from Neil containing images of foreign characters (from papers for his Chinese and linguistic classes) or the various rallies around campus (the fox effigies were actual really good – some art majors had spent a lot of time on those) and one from Marley of Neil asleep on his bed while wearing Andrew’s jersey and his laptop still on his chest, passed out from too much practice and studying (and translating for a certain insecure little prick), the fox plushie tucked next to him.

As Bee said, for once Andrew had a clear, positive future ahead of him.

A future who showed up on Friday with an untrustworthy smile on his too-pretty face. “ _We’re really going to have to savor this_ ,” he said in French with a grinning Marley standing beside him. “ _I mean, it’s just not going to be the same beating the Foxes once you’re gone_.”

“ _Yeah, trouncing you in the goal and knocking over Nicky all the time, there goes most of my fun_!” Marley proclaimed while she nodded. “ _You certain that you passed all your classes, SMF? Maybe you can be held back a year so it’s not so boring next season_.”

Andrew gave them a sour look followed by a rude gesture. “Do I _only_ get a year away from you lunatics?”

Marley gasped as if hurt while Robin watched on in bemusement and Dan bore an expression of resigned exasperation (Andrew wondered if _she_ was counting down the days until the two strikers graduated, much like Wymack was doing with him). “You know you’ll be missing us right away!” Her grin took on a wicked edge as she nudged her partner in the back. “Or at least a certain cute Shorty and the way he looks while running away from your goal.”

“Huh?” Neil gazed at her in confusion while Andrew had to admit that one of the perks of playing for the Barons would be watching Neil run around on court all the time, dressed in the tight spandex….

Hmm, a year _would_ be a rather long time to wait.

Neil and Marley promised to deal with the post-game interviews as quickly as possible while Bren and Janna would prepare everything for the four of them to drive to Columbia; Aaron and Katelyn were staying behind that weekend due to the pressure on the pre-med majors to wrap up their degrees, so the house would be a _little_ less crowded than usual. Marley, Robin, Meg and Kenny would still stay at a rented house down the block, which would allow Bren and Janna to stay with Neil without raising so much interest.

Or so it was hoped (fucking paparazzi).

The game went much as Andrew expected in that the Ravens pushed the Foxes to their limits, made him work up too much of a sweat in an effort to block Neil and Marley and actually feel frustrated for once while out on the court. He had to admit that he grew used to dealing with strikers of lesser ability than the two, especially with Kevin gone, and… he could admit that he fumbled somewhat when faced with players of their caliber.

(He’d never say such a thing to anyone, but it made him look forward _somewhat_ to the pros in the hopes that he wouldn’t be so bored there, when there would be more players _near_ Neil and Marley and Kevin’s ability).

(He’d also look forward to backliners like prissy Moreau guarding his goal.)

As annoying as it was for Neil and Marley to score points on him, at least he had some consolidation to watch Neil run off in tight black spandex, the memory forever seared into his brain (along with the bright smile a certain little bird sent him upon each new point, all white teeth and flashing pale blue eyes laden with a promise for later).

As much as it stung, each red flash of a goal breached, he had to admit that those shared smiles and that looping gait away did something to soothe the ‘pain’ of the impending loss.

Which was why when Matheson and Hurst ranted at half-time about the Ravens kicking their ass _yet again_ (did they never stop to wonder why that was so?), Andrew merely tuned out their squawking and texted with Bren about the weekend.

Neil and Marley only played for part of a quarter in the second half of the game, long enough for Matheson to pick a fight with Neil and be yellow-carded (and to nearly get beat up by one of the Ravens’ sophomore backliners – Perez, who was almost half his size). The dumb shit was going to spend much of summer training suffering through marathons, along with Hurst, not that Andrew gave a shit.

The Foxes were finished for the season once again, had established themselves in the top three, and that was that for Andrew’s collegiate Exy career.

Dan came over while Wymack did his ‘it was a great game even though you lost’ speech and gave Nicky a hug. “I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye on things and it was rough at the start, but I’m glad the three of you were Foxes. You’re part of the reason this team has come so far over the past few years,” she told them while Wymack nodded along next to her.

“Everyone brings something to this team and you three are no exceptions,” Wymack continued. “I’m proud of all of you and know you’ll continue to achieve great things.”

Nicky started to cry and was hugged by Robin and Meg while even Aaron appeared affected for once and allowed Dan to pat him on the back; Andrew merely clicked his tongue and went to shower so he could leave as soon as Neil was ready.

The weekend went by quickly; everyone was tired from practicing for the game that after eating together they split apart for some privacy (Andrew thought that Nicky hung out with Bren and Janna for a bit, but had a sleepy little bird on his hands). Saturday was spent watching movies and having a cook-out and being a bit more social… when Andrew and Neil bothered to leave the bedroom.

It would be one of Andrew’s favorite memories of the house in Columbia: the sight of Neil stretched out on the bed next to him still asleep, tousled hair on the pillow and expression peaceful, dressed in an old t-shirt of Andrew’s. There was the faint sound of Nicky’s laughter drifting up from the first floor, that and Robin’s voice, and Andrew… Andrew felt _content_. For once there weren’t any lingering demons or nightmares, nothing to ruin the moment (nothing he was going to allow to ruin the moment), and the only thing he had to do right then was lean forward to wake a sleeping little bird so they could go have something to eat (eventually).

The last couple of weeks on campus went by even faster than the weekend in Columbia, what with preparing for graduation and Nicky trying to fit in as much ‘family’ time as possible. At least there wasn’t any more Exy practice to deal with on Andrew’s part, though Neil always seemed to be on court with the Ravens if he wasn’t in class.

Kevin was insufferable to deal with since the Sirens had been knocked out of the playoffs by the Sealions (he should be used to losing to Knox’s team), who then lost to the Barons, and planned to spend some time back in town with Wymack and Abby. Andrew insisted that his friend didn’t need to come to his graduation, but Kevin was being oddly stubborn about the matter for some reason.

The suite became crowded the evening of the Ravens and Trojans game as Robin, Katelyn, Meg and Kenny came over to cheer on Neil and Marley. Andrew sat in the bean bag chair with a fifth of whiskey in his hands as his boyfriend raced across the court, aware that Ichirou was up in the East Tower while Neil led the Ravens to another championship, something he’d worried about all season long.

Andrew would point out that the idiot had been stressed for nothing, but Neil would just start freaking out about _next_ year’s championship.

They talked the next day, after Neil got some rest. “Was the insecure little prick pleased?”

“Drew.” Neil didn’t say anything else, but the exhausted reproach in the one word was enough to make Andrew click his tongue and push down the bitterness.

“What about your uncle?”

“He wasn’t there, he’s been busy with something lately. Jamie was, though, and she was happy for me.” Neil seemed to stifle a yawn. “And yes, she made sure that Ichirou kept his hands to himself, along with Bren. It was a late night, though, since a lot of people were in town.”

“Poor little bird, you had to do a lot of tricks on demand, didn’t you?” Andrew drawled as he flicked open his lighter.

“Someone’s being even more of an asshole today than usual, aren’t they?”

Because Andrew hated the idea of Neil on display like that, how Ichirou could still make him jump through hoops whenever the prick wanted. “I’m preparing for life in New York.”

That drew a tired chuckle from Neil. “Yeah, you’ll definitely fit right in without much effort. So, everything set for the graduation ceremony? Nicky planning anything extravagant?”

Andrew went on to talk about how his cousin wanted them to coordinate their mortarboards with some stupid message, which both he and Aaron refused to do. He was only bothering with the whole ceremony because it mattered so much to Nicky and Bee when he’d rather just pack up everything and head to New York, where Neil would be soon enough.

Kevin carried through with his threat and arrived mid-week, and after four hours of him haranguing Andrew about it, they finally went to court to work out, the first time Andrew had been there since the game with the Ravens.

He would never admit it, especially to Kevin, but he’d missed facing off against the arrogant, talented bastard.

On Thursday, Erik arrived to attend the next day’s graduation ceremony and accompany Nicky back to Germany, which meant the two of them ‘disappeared’ after a ‘family’ lunch together (not that Andrew was complaining). Since Neil was busy with something, Andrew had dinner with Bee then spent another night at the Foxhole Court with Kevin.

Friday was busy preparing for the graduation ceremony, especially since Renee and Reynolds arrived that morning as a surprise. “We had to be here to see you graduate,” Renee told him with a pleased smile as he stared nonplussed at the couple.

“And by that she means that _she_ had to be here,” Reynolds clarified with a bit of a sour tone, only to roll her eyes when Renee frowned. “But I have to admit, being here helps to settle a bet or two.”

Of course.

Still, Andrew tolerated a hug from Renee while there were tears in Nicky’s eyes when she (and Reynolds) hugged him as well. Renee looked good, dressed in a pale pink and white lace dress (designer, he was willing to bet) that went well with her ombré pink hair – pale at the roots which grew darker at the ends. Reynolds definitely was wearing something fresh off the runway, bright red and form-fitting, with her blonde hair pulled back in a messy bun which had probably taken an hour to perfect.

They both appeared happy together as they held hands; Andrew didn’t care much about Reynolds, but the content smile on Renee’s face was oddly reassuring.

That smile widened when Renee took to pointing to something in the distance as they were gathered in the parking lot of the football stadium where the graduation ceremony was being held; Andrew turned and at first thought he was seeing things when several familiar figures approached.

“You made it!” Dan called out while Matt grinned at Renee and Reynolds, with Neil and Marley waving to Andrew as Bren and Janna brought up the rear. Andrew stepped aside so the (former) upperclassmen could greet each other then pulled his boyfriend (dressed in black pants and a dark grey shirt) close.

Neil smiled _that_ way which meant Andrew could bridge the distance for a quick kiss before he asked what the hell they were doing in South Carolina. “I thought you were headed to New York.”

“I am, tomorrow,” Neil told him. “But I couldn’t miss this, could I?” While they talked, Marley wandered off, probably to find Robin. “I mean, how would that look, me skipping my boyfriend’s graduation ceremony? Jamie helped argue for it with me.”

Aware of the various people all around them and uncaring about that fact, Andrew pulled Neil in for another kiss, both unwilling to wait until they were alone and unbothered if Ichirou was presented with evidence of Neil spending the day at his _boyfriend’s_ graduation ceremony. It wasn’t until Matt whistled that they broke apart.

Andrew glared at the moron for that, along with Reynolds when she gave him a sweet smile as she fussed with her phone, which clearly had been used to take some pictures of him and Neil. “All the really fun things happened after we graduated, it’s not fair.”

Neil gave her a wary look and edged closer to Andrew, especially when Reynolds gave him an appraising look in return. “I have to say, Monster, you managed to-“

“Don’t call him that,” Neil snapped as he glared at the former dealer.

Reynolds arched an eyebrow at the demand while Renee and Nicky smiled at Neil’s defense of Andrew. “What? ‘Monster’? It’s just a nickname.”

“ _Don’t_ ,” Neil repeated, a hint of that cruel smile creeping onto his lips that made even Reynolds’ smug demeanor falter.

They stared at each other for a couple of seconds before Reynolds nodded once and flicked the fingers of her right hand through the air. “Sure thing, cutie.” Neil blinked at that while Bren chuckled. “Just because you asked.”

“Uhm….” Neil gave Andrew a confused look, clearly unused to dealing with someone like Reynolds.

“Come on, you need to meet Bee,” Andrew declared as he tugged on the idiot’s sleeve. Oh yes, definitely time to inflict a certain little bird on Bee as Andrew’s ‘reverse’ graduation present.

“Ah, maybe I should find Meg?” Neil said in a panicked rush as he tried to drag his feet, clearly in no hurry to talk to another psychiatrist. “Oh, and what about Kevin? Isn’t he around here somewhere?”

“Nice try.” As if Neil really wanted to willingly put up with Kevin; Andrew was stronger and easily hauled him away while Renee waved ‘goodbye’ to them and Dan called out that they’d save a seat for Neil, Bren and Janna following like faithful shadows. “Time to see if we can fix you a little. A _little_. One issue out of _many_.”

The sound of Neil’s accented voice calling Andrew a bloody asshole as he was dragged through the parking lot drew lots of attention; Andrew was certain that Daniels was going to _adore_ him if any pictures or videos of it got out.

*******

“But why do we have to learn the drills in this order? And why can’t we-“

Neil smacked the bottom of his racquet onto the court floor and gave Turner the full effect of the smile he’d learned from his father. “Because that’s the way we do things here and it’s not going to change just because _you_ don’t like it. Let me repeat it one last time. You don’t get to do anything until you learn these drills, _all of them and in order_ , just like the rest of the Ravens didn’t get to do anything until they perfected them.” Well, there had been ‘exceptions’ made for him and the rest of the ‘Perfect Court’, but he didn’t see a damn tattoo on Turner’s left cheek, now did he? “Right, Coach Wilds?” he called out to Dan who was standing off to the side and letting him deal with the asshole new rookie, for the most part.

Dan was quick to nod, her expression neutral as she did her best to balance her role as the team’s assistant coach with what Neil knew to be her growing annoyance with Turner’s spoiled attitude. Ever since the rookie had shown up for summer practice, he’d somehow felt that he’d deserved special attention or exceptions.

That wasn’t happening.

Neil supposed that, all things considered, the team had a good run with rookies in the past few years, but he, Jean and Noguchi had worked hard to pick the best ones they could find, to ensure that they would fit well with the rest of the players. There never had been so many women on the Ravens’ roster as there were now, and even though Neil and Marley had picked Ethan to take over as the team’s captain once they graduated, the three of them had already discussed things moving forward and Bailey had been chosen to be to be Ethan’s vice-captain so they could start training both of their teammates. Soon enough, the Ravens would finally have a woman captain (Dan was more than a little smug about that).

They’d recruited six new players to replace the six upperclassmen who’d graduated, the team the ‘leanest’ it had been in years due to transfers, the injuries inflicted upon players by Riko and the reluctance to bring in too many freshmen after the scandal. The other five rookies (heavy on backliners) were integrating fine with the rest of the team, were listening to Neil, Marley and Ethan as they were taught the drills and learned the rules, but Turner just had to be a little shit and push back at every opportunity.

Andrew and Jean found it amusing as hell for some reason.

“ _It’s karma_ ,” Jean insisted with a slight smile when Neil was back at their apartment for the weekend. “ _Now you know how I felt_.”

Neil glared at his friend from where he sat on the couch next to Andrew, a mug of tea in his hands. “ _I didn’t give you **that** much trouble_.” He couldn’t, not when arguing with Jean (at least publicly) would have led to pain for the both of them.

More pain.

“ _No, you just saddled us with the flea and the rabbit, and made deals with the gargoyle there, and the whole **Ichirou** thing_ ,” Jean reminded him with great derision. “ _How my hair isn’t pure white from all the stress, I do not know_.”

Neil gazed at him for a few seconds while he sipped his tea then twisted about a little to nod at Andrew. “If you haven’t figured it out yet, he’s a bit of a drama queen.”

Andrew clicked his tongue in disgust. “A _bit_? He texts me ten times before each practice to make sure we’re not running late then spends the entire ride back home picking apart what all the other players did wrong, including me. I really am about to box him up and ship him off to Kevin.”

“He calls _me_ to go over what you did wrong, you know,” Neil decided to enlighten his boyfriend. “You really need to get that one play down soon, it’s not that difficult.” He laughed when Andrew kicked him in the right thigh.

“I hate you both,” Andrew declared before he finished the remaining shot of whiskey in his glass.

Jean directed a delicate sneer his way. “You don’t have to stay here with us, you have your own place. I know I’ll be happy to see you leave.”

“What a wonderful suggestion.” Andrew set his glass down on the coffee table then stood up; when he glanced at Neil, his right eyebrow was slightly quirked in a silent invitation.

“I suppose I should make sure you don’t get lost on the way,” Neil joked as he stood as well. “Tell Jeremy I said ‘hi’,” he told Jean, certain that his roommate would enjoy some privacy to talk to his boyfriend.

Jean waved him off as he followed Andrew out the door, mindful to take his phone and keys with him, and wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t return until the following morning. He sipped his tea along the way to Andrew’s apartment, and smiled as always upon entering.

Andrew had his new home painted in cool greys and blues, soothing colors that complemented the plush, dark blue sofas and chairs that were so comfortable to sink into or sleep on. The tables were sleek and black and modern in design, as were the lamps, and he’d kept the furnishings to a minimum for the most part. There were a couple of pictures of his family on the walls (obviously gifts from Nicky) and his diploma hung in his bedroom, but Andrew obviously wasn’t one for clutter or objects put out for ‘mere’ decoration.

Yet there were the bookshelves scattered about the apartment and books left about where he’d set them down, one or two rare knickknacks that had been gifts from Betsy or Renee or Nicky – just enough touches of personality that kept the place from being ‘cold’. There were the tea tins that Neil had brought over and one of his mugs, a colorful blanket that had migrated over from the other apartment as well.

“How many times am I going to have to tell you not to stress out about the idiot freshman?” Andrew asked as they headed to his bedroom.

“Probably a few dozen,” Neil warned as he set the empty mug down on a coffee table along the way. “I know that I have Dan and Noguchi’s support and that if Turner wants to advance that he has to buckle down and listen. Things aren’t how they used to be with Tetsuji,” or Turner would already would have been beaten bloody several times over, “but there’s still several things that _make_ us Ravens,” Neil tried to explain. “You have to master the drills, you follow the pairing system, you earn your number. He’ll learn that or it might be best for him to transfer to another team.”

“Perhaps you’re finally learning,” Andrew said as he sat down on the bed. “Or perhaps you’ll wait until the season actually starts to have your usual breakdown.”

“Why would I have a breakdown when I have such wonderful support?” Neil asked as he turned toward the door, only to laugh as the back of his shirt was grabbed and he was tugged onto the bed instead. “You’re an asshole.”

“So you tell me,” Andrew said as he leaned over Neil, not enough to block him from being able to sit up and leave. “Yet I’m the asshole who’ll put up with your breakdowns and endless whining.”

“It’s that amazing compassion of yours that endears me to you,” Neil drawled as he slowly raised his arms and draped them over Andrew’s broad shoulders.

“I wish I could say the same about your intellect, but sadly….” Andrew made a tsk’ing sound then grunted when Neil gave a light punch to his abdomen. “Though you are a vicious little shit, I’ll give you that.”

“It’s one of my better qualities,” Neil acknowledged as he pulled Andrew down for a kiss, done with talking for the time being.

He enjoyed how Andrew broke him into pieces and put him back together again, the pleasure so sharp yet relaxing after a stressful week. He felt bereft of tension at last as he lay in Andrew’s bed, dressed in borrowed clothes and the scent of Andrew’s soap clinging to his skin, his boyfriend’s arm draped over his waist and warm body pressed against his back. For a few hours he could forget about Turner and summer practice and Ichirou and how he hadn’t heard from Stuart in a couple of weeks, about all the things that bothered him and that he didn’t want to mention to Andrew since his boyfriend had his own concerns.

Andrew had to deal with being a rookie all over again, in getting along with a new team (something Jean tried to help with, but Andrew and Jean… well, they weren’t the most compatible of people, those two) while honoring the terms of his contract. He was also facing increased scrutiny from the media because of him being the first official gay Exy player, which meant paparazzi following him (and Neil) around, though Jeremy had confided in them that Alvarez and Dermott were currently talking to their respective teams about coming out as well, along with a couple of other players.

Neil figured he’d give Andrew a little more time to settle in to his new home and career before burdening him with his problems (Turner aside), and was grateful that he could spend most of his weekends with his lover and best friend. Soon enough the professional Exy season would start, which meant that Andrew and Jean would be on the road part of the time and their schedules wouldn’t always match up.

One more year, Neil told himself. One more year and he’d be with them, would be signed to the Barons and somewhat free of Ichirou’s ‘whims’ since he had to honor that contract.

Somewhat.

As it was, Neil had to cut his run with Jean short that morning because of Ichirou ‘requesting’ his presence at the one office downtown, where he translated for a meeting with several Russian mobsters that lasted for a few hours. The discussion about weapon shipments and ‘obstacles’ to be removed which left him stressed once more, the wonderful looseness he’d felt upon leaving Andrew’s bed that morning quickly evaporated between that and Jamie being upset about something.

“Is everything all right?” he asked his cousin before Bren took him to the airport.

She shook her head. “Just… nothing I want to get into right now.” She slanted a quick glance Ichirou’s way. “And nothing for you to worry about. Have a safe flight home, little cousin.” She gave him a quick hug before she walked away.

Neil frowned at that then forced his expression to smooth out as he went over to Ichirou. “ _If that’s all, my lord, I’ll be returning to campus_ ,” he said with a slight bow.

“ _I have a few documents that I need you to check_ ,” Ichirou said as he reached out to tuck back a lock of Neil’s hair, his fingers lingering on Neil’s temple for a couple of seconds before they fell to rest on his chest, where the medallion lay exposed.  “ _Masato will give them to you later_.”

“ _Yes, my lord_.” Neil bowed again as he stepped back, eager to be out of Ichirou’s reach and grateful for a chance to leave at last. He held his head high as one of the bodyguards made a comment about ‘Wesninski’ and another remarked to Ichirou about him being so obedient.

Neil reminded himself of the many reasons why it would be a bad thing to slip free his knife and start stabbing people, and Bren helped by placing a hand on the small of his back and all but shoving him out of the room.

Bren might have to do something to keep Neil from stabbing annoying as hell rookies.

“So apparently the dipshit is throwing a fit because he’s not invited to our evening practices,” Marley informed Neil once he was back at the Nest, her face set in a scowl and hands fisted on her hips; she was wearing a PSU hoodie bearing Robin’s number.  “Never mind that _none_ of the freshmen have been invited to it yet, not until they get the basics down.”

Neil rubbed the back of his neck while he wondered if he could just make Marley captain that year and run off to join the Barons early or something. “Your sister send you that toxin yet?”

Marley scoffed at the question. “I’d have already used it on the dumb fuck if she had, and half the team would be my alibi to swear I didn’t do anything.”

Damn. “We may have to wait until a road-trip and get inventive then.”

“Not ideal, but I’m sure we can come up with something if he keeps acting like this.” Marley appeared murderous for a moment before she sighed and ran the fingers of her right hand through her hair. “How’s Crunchy and SMF? They still haven’t managed to strangle each other yet?”

“It’s a near thing some days,” Neil admitted as he updated her on the two while he finished unpacking. She was laughing over the stories as they went to join Bren, Janna and Dan for dinner and caught him up on non-Turner related events from the weekend.

On Tuesday Neil decided to prove a point to Turner and allowed the cocky bastard to participate in a scrimmage after talking it through with Noguchi and Dan. They agreed, but only if he and Marley sat it out, since they felt that would be too much for the rookie and might be seen as crossing the line to hazing. Neil and Marley decided they were right – that and Mohit and Phil were more than talented enough strikers to beat Turner into the floor without their help.

The freshman didn’t even last five minutes out on the court, and the rest of the team were quick to point out that he’d gotten off ‘easy’ since he hadn’t dealt with Neil and Marley.

Dan tried to ‘soften’ the blow of him getting his ass handed to him. “Look, there’s a reason why you freshmen are told to learn the drills and rarely get any time on court at first, and that’s because you need to learn the basics. There’s a huge difference between high school and university Exy, and this program actually does a really good job of preparing you for that jump. You’re good,” she assured Turner with a smile. “You got picked for this team because Hiro and Neil felt that you have talent, just give it some time, okay?”

He let out an angry breath then forced a shaky smile. “It’s just… I’m here, I’m at Castle Evermore and I want to play. This is everything I’ve been shooting for since I was nine years old,” he confessed. “And now it seems like I’m being held back.”

“You’re not,” she told him. “But you need to learn to walk before you can run. Everyone goes through this process, it’s not just you. So give it a try, all right?” She patted him on the back when he nodded. “Now let’s get to work.”

Neil hoped that Turner actually listened to once, because there was only so many chances he was giving the kid before plan ‘b’ went into effect. Still, practice settled down after that at last.

It was past the middle of the night on Wednesday, almost Thursday morning in fact, when his phone rang, jolting him and Marley awake. Anxious that something had happened to Andrew or Jean, he fumbled for the device and accepted the call, languages jumbled in his head and caught in his throat for a moment until he forced out a rough ‘hello?’.

“Neil.”

It was Jamie, he realized, his eyes too bleary to read the name on the screen.

“Yeah. Wha-what is it?” Why was Jamie calling him? Did Ichirou want him for something?

“Neil.” She sounded like she was crying. Why was she crying? “It’s… oh god, it’s Stuart.”

*******

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *******  
> Hmm, yeah, that was that. Wrapped up year four, start of year five. Just a little longer. Moving on.
> 
> Edit big bang fic and get back to this... sometime? Yeah.
> 
> *innocent expression* Andrew pov in next chapter, sure you wanna know what's going on with him and Jean and the Barons.
> 
> And, uhm, maybe something about kudos and comments?  
> *******


	31. New World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! *nervous wave* 
> 
> Okay, keep in mind that there's reasons for things, all right? Really. Stuff's been plotted out for a while. REALLY. I don't do things lightly.
> 
> That said...
> 
> Triggers? Mental instability, disassociation, non-consenting drug use (sorta?), talk of therapy and potential suicide (but not the case). Kind of difficult to explain.  
> *******

*******

As if Andrew didn't have enough reasons to detest the Moriyamas, dealing with Jean Moreau on a daily basis gave him plenty more; he would have appreciated being involved somehow in Riko and Tetsuji's deaths when it became clear just how fucked up things had been at the Nest.

When it became clear just how fucked up they'd made Jean Moreau.

The first two weeks of Andrew's life in New York City had been busy yet somewhat peaceful because of Neil's presence; his lover had almost always been at his side (when not called away on Moriyama business or out on his morning jogs with Jean) and helped him set up the new apartment, to arrange the furniture and run out for various items while Andrew slowly learned the surrounding neighborhood. The paparazzi had been annoying bastards kept somewhat at bay by Bren and Janna, but soon learned that all they were going to see was Andrew buying shit while Neil tagged along.

Neil tried to have Andrew spend a few evenings at the apartment that he shared with Jean or suggested that the three of them go out for dinner, but Andrew saw no reason for such things when he'd be stuck with the brooding Frenchman soon enough. As much as he normally gave in to his boyfriend's requests or desires, for once he held firm and Neil stopped sulking after a while as they watched a movie or lay sprawled on the couch together, content to be able to spend time alone for more than a day or two.

Then Neil had to return to Edgar Allan for summer practice, to prepare the team before the new batch of freshmen arrived, while Andrew only had a few more weeks before he started practice with the Barons. A few more weeks until he had to honor the deal he’d made with Ichirou Moriyama.

For the first week after Neil had left, all Andrew did was lie around in bed for most of the day, only leaving it to eat, shower and attend to other basic needs. He ignored his phone except when it was Neil or Bee trying to reach him, a rare break from the world where he didn’t have to be anywhere or do anything.

A rare break when he didn’t have to do anything Exy-related or worry about any deals (Bren and Janna were looking after Neil, Muldani seemed to have Kevin under control, Nicky was in Germany and Aaron was busy wrapping up things with the sale of the house in Columbia, along with Katelyn).

The days went by too quickly.

He woke up to find a video sent to him from Marley of Neil stretching out on Evermore’s court, bent over to touch his toes and oblivious to what his partner was doing since his back was to her the entire time. There was a message about ‘starting the day off right’, which Andrew ignored as he sent a reply about breaking her hands then neck if she shared that video with anyone.

Still, he watched it a couple of times before he saved it to his phone, then braced himself to deal with something unpleasant.

Jean was waiting for him in the third floor gym, a disgruntled expression on his handsome face and arms folded across his chest; he was dressed in apparel from his various sponsors like a well-trained lackey, a walking advertisement with those classic good looks (the faint scars aside) and impressive physique. “You’re late,” Jean stated with a slight sneer.

Since it was just the two of them in the gym, Andrew decided to get things settled sooner rather than later. “Consider yourself lucky that I showed up at all. I’m not one of your little birdies, you don’t have authority over me.”

“No.” To his surprise, Jean stepped forward until he was uncomfortably close to Andrew’s personal space. “ _There is nothing ‘lucky’ about this_ ,” he snapped in French. “ _If you don’t want Neil to pay for your laziness then you’ll start taking this serious, Minyard_.”

Mention of Neil made Andrew’s eyes narrow and a low thrum of anger burn inside of his chest. “ _I always take things serious when it comes to Neil. Why the hell do you think I’m here_?”

“ _I **think** that you’re underestimating how difficult the pro league will be_ ,” Jean said as he stepped back. “ _You refused to join Neil during our morning jogs and somehow I doubt that you’ve been eating healthy these past few weeks, which means there’s that much more you have to catch up. You need to_ -“

“ _You sound like Kevin_ ,” Andrew pointed out as he leaned against a treadmill. “ _I’m in decent shape_.”

Jean’s grey eyes narrowed in anger and a muscle twitched in his firm jaw. “ _Fine, let’s have a little wager, yes? I hear you Foxes love them so much. If you can keep pace with me for an hour, I won’t bring up your diet or work-out again_.”

Andrew hesitated for a moment, mindful of his past week spent on ‘break’, but thought that he could match Jean for an hour – the French bastard had spent the past few days in California, after all, heading out to spend time with Knox as soon as Neil had returned to West Virginia. It would be worth the exertion to get Jean off of his back and not have to worry about Neil being upset with Andrew ‘fighting’ with his ex-partner so he nodded in agreement.

The smile on Jean’s face just then was too pleased by half. “ _I’ll give you ten minutes to warm up. I advise you to use them_.”

Andrew flipped off the dramatic asshole, but did spend most of the time stretching and warming his muscles.

It didn’t do him much good.

To give him (some) credit, he lasted almost fifty minutes before a charley horse had him collapsing on the step climber (and nearly breaking his nose); Jean had set a grueling pace right from the start that had them cycling through the private gym’s equipment, going back and forth between cardio and weights with barely any pause. If they’d stuck to just weights, Andrew might have outlasted the bastard, but it was clear that Jean worked hard on building up and maintaining an impressive stamina that enabled him to play so long out on the court.

As if to rub salt in the wound, Jean continued on for another half an hour before he began to cool down, while Andrew lay on a weight bench and answered neglected texts on his phone. “I won’t ask that you join me for the morning run, especially since it’ll just slow me down,” Jean said with a condescending air. “But you will meet me here at 9am to work out together.”

Bee would be so proud of how Andrew used one of her precious mental exercises to prevent himself from throwing a weight at the pretentious bastard, while Neil would owe him. “We still have almost four weeks before training starts.”

“Yes, and you’ll be in perfect shape by then,” Jean insisted. “Let me make this clear,” he said as he used a towel to wipe at the sweat along his brow. “At least half of the team is already unhappy with you because of the mandatory classes we had to attend over possible harassment toward one’s sexual orientation and how to have an all-inclusive workplace.” Jean grimaced at that, though Andrew suspected it had to do with his teammates’ reactions, not the topics. “Some people are not very… flexible.”

“Imagine that,” Andrew grunted as he sat up.

Jean was quiet for a moment before he sighed. “You are… you’re taking this better than I expected,” he admitted as he draped the towel over his broad shoulders. “With the whole media thing and all.”

Andrew tapped his phone against the bench as he debated answer the question. “ _As you said, Neil pays if I don’t go along, somewhat_ ,” he answered as he held Jean’s solemn gaze. “ _I made the deal and I’ll honor it_.” Even if it meant working out with a French bastard every day.

As he suspected, Jean accepted that with a simple nod; the man was used to a certain martyr little bird sacrificing too much for him over the years and so was protective of Neil in return. “ _Remember that, and know that there are people looking forward to you failing_ ,” Jean warned. “ _They’re jealous of your talent and unhappy about the changes you’re bringing to the sport, so don’t give them any excuse to tear you down from the start_.”

Wonderful. Andrew gave the man a two-fingered salute as he heaved onto his feet. “I’m not easy to bring to my knees,” he said as he left the gym, and ignored Jean’s loud, derisive snort.

He spent the day soaking in the nice, large heated tub in his bathroom then massaging his sore legs and arms from the workout from hell; he may not like Jean very much, but he had to admit that the man was tough as nails.

He refused to think of what had made Jean that way, what made _Neil_ that way.

His junkie boyfriend called him later that night, tired from practice yet content as always from so many hours out on court. Hearing Neil’s voice lighten at the mention of spending some time with him that weekend made the aches in Andrew’s body somehow more bearable, made the thought of dealing with Jean and the Barons more palatable.

Jean inflicted a new exercise regime on Andrew, one that earned him murderous thoughts and cold looks and entire sessions without Andrew saying a word (but several rude gestures). Declan came by to check up on them now and then, and took to staying on the days when Andrew was tempted to bash a certain French bastard’s head in with a 100 lb weight or when Jean started muttering in Japanese non-stop.

When Neil showed up on Saturday, Andrew grabbed his boyfriend by the sleeve and pulled him to his apartment once the two ex-partners were done hugging. “Uhm, I thought that Jean and I-“

“No,” Andrew said. “Later.” He couldn’t say that he missed Neil, that he wanted to spend time with him (away from the French bastard), but Neil was clever (when he wasn’t being a martyr idiot) and seemed to figure that out once they were alone in Andrew’s apartment.

“It’s a good thing you never were a Raven,” Neil said as he draped his arms over Andrew’s shoulders, a slight smile on his face. “You’d have driven your partner crazy.”

“We’ve been over this, I knew better than to join.” Andrew tugged Neil closer as he leaned against the back of the couch. “And despite that fact, I’m driving your partner crazy right now.”

“Hmm, very true.” Neil smiled as his eyes grew heavy-lidded. “It’s quite a talent you have.”

“I think people who start fights in interviews all the time should be quiet now,” Andrew chided before he pulled Neil in for a kiss, unwilling to talk anymore. They didn’t have an endless amount of time together, not when a little bird had to chirp away for an insecure prick in a few hours, so he was determined to make the most out of their hours spent together.

Bee checked in with him later the next week, and seemed pleased to learn that he was taking his health seriously. “It’s not a cure-all and it won’t work for all mental illnesses, but studies point to how exercise does have a positive effect on one’s mental well-being and can even help with moderate depression and anxiety, as well as with other conditions,” she told him. “Along with a healthy diet, it can only help.”

“How much did Kevin pay you to say that?” Andrew asked as he fought not to have a cigarette; he was doing his best to cut back since Jean had pointed out the fact that he wouldn’t be allowed to smoke while on the clock as a Baron.

“Yes, of course I’m parroting Kevin here and not hundreds of pages of scientific research,” Bee said, her voice thick with sarcasm. “Why bother with a degree and years of studying when I can just make stuff up? For my next patient, I’m going to try leeches to see if that restores the balance of humors in their body.”

“Oh, sure, you become more fun _after_ I graduate,” Andrew complained as he forced himself to put down the pack of cigarettes for the fifth time.

“I’m sure there’s no correlation there whatsoever.” Bee’s voice was too sweet to be believed just then.

As if forcing him to be physically active, cut back on smoking and eat something other than carbs all of the time wasn’t bad enough, Jean also dragged Andrew out to meet some of his teammates – former Ravens – under the pretext that he needed to have a few people on his ‘side’ come the start of practice.

Ally Jones was an offensive dealer, Thom Parker a backliner and Rory Sims a striker, and they were such utter _Ravens_ that Andrew felt the urge to take out a knife and stab it in his ears within twenty minutes of meeting up with the trio in a juice bar (a fucking _juice bar_ ) one afternoon. They appeared in perfect physical shape and ready for a photo shoot at any moment, drank their fruit and vegetable juice concoctions without being forced, and seemed to have no life outside of Exy (even though Ally and Rory were a couple).

The worst part was sitting there and picking up the similarities between the four and in Kevin and Neil, the common phrases the damn brain-washed birdies used when talking about Exy or training, the way they moved, the fact that they began to synch their motions together after a certain amount of time. That Thom could hand something to Ally without her asking and Rory finish Jean’s sentences, something Andrew had seen happen all the time with Neil and Marley and Jean.

It was the damn Ravens’ partner system in effect, their freakish teamwork taking over even though Thom had graduated almost ten years ago and the others about half that long. As Kevin could attest, it wasn’t so easy to leave behind Tetsuji Moriyama’s ‘special’ style of training.

Anger bubbled up inside of Andrew as he thought about what that meant for Neil.

When he pointed out his observations to Jean the next morning, it led to a sarcastic ‘discussion’ about how much ‘better’ it was to lack discipline and allow players to do whatever they wanted and so lose games and never win a championship – it also meant a good workout, but Declan had to shout out their names a couple of times to prevent bloodshed. The worst part was Neil calling Andrew later that night to complain about how Jean was doing his best to help him out, couldn’t he see that?

No, Andrew couldn’t, but then again, he hadn’t drunk the Edgar Allan kool-aid, had he?

Probably not the best response, he admitted to himself when his boyfriend hung up on him.

He knew that Neil was stressing out once again about the upcoming season, his last as a Raven and captain, that he needed the team to adjust to the loss of several upperclassmen and the incoming freshmen. It happened every summer and that one wouldn’t be an exception, especially with the added stress of the two of them now ‘out’. For some damn reason, Neil was stressed about Andrew, too (because of the deal and everything).

It didn’t help that Neil barely had any free time that weekend when he wasn’t with Ichirou, and spent most of it with Jean because of Ravens’ stuff.

Still, Neil made a point to come over for a couple of hours, even if it was just for them to stretch out on the couch together while Neil stroked his fingers over Andrew’s upper body and arms (the new workout wasn’t all bad) and Andrew read a book. It was peaceful break from everything… and helped to prevent Andrew’s mind from wanting a damn cigarette.

He had a meeting with Daniels to set up things in anticipation of practice starting and another photo shoot for Under Amour since the first campaign was so well-received, and rumblings of other sponsors depending on how well he did in the first half of the season. There were requests for more interviews, but he’d done what had been necessary when outed, he wasn’t interested in doing anything else until his contract officially started.

Jean brought up the topic a couple of days before they were to report to practice, after they’d received a ‘packet’ by email containing the schedule for training, interviews and various events for the next several weeks. “You really are handling this much better than I’d expected,” he said as they cooled down while on the treadmill.

Andrew debated not saying anything before he shrugged. “I signed the contract and agreed to all of this, I don’t go back on my word.” He’d known that being a Baron meant that he had to do the publicity and endorsements, though it would be on his terms as much as possible. Was he happy about it? No, but Neil was free (somewhat free) from Ichirou (wasn’t in the prick’s bed anymore), and that was what mattered the most.

“Still, you did well with those interviews in the spring.” Jean paused as if he wanted to mention something else then shook his head. “You did better than I expected,” was all he said.

Yes, Andrew had surprised quite a few people back then, he’d surmised, but if he’d thrown a fit or over-reacted to some assholes invading his privacy and revealing his sexuality, what good would it have done? Especially since he suspected that those asshole reporters hadn’t just ‘stumbled’ onto his relationship with Neil.

No, what if someone _wanted_ him to overreact, to start off his pro career looking like an explosive, hot-tempered bastard, just like the rumors said he was? To paint him in the worse possible light?

Someone who was having trouble letting go of a little bird and so regretted the deal they’d made with Andrew.

The first official day of practice with the Barons was about as interminable as Andrew had expected it to be; the morning started with Jean sending text after text to ‘ensure’ that they arrived on time since they (meaning the French bastard) had decided to carpool together to the stadium. Andrew almost stayed in his apartment and made them late for the hell of it, but knew he’d never hear the end of it from Neil, let alone Jean and Kevin and Daniels and several other people.

Coach Michaels was a few years older than Wymack and lacked the tattoos, and had a successful Exy career (including a couple of years for the Canadian Court) before deciding that he wanted something a little more stable for the sake of his family (according to the information Andrew had found online about the man). He was one of the most successful coaches in the league, which explained why he was in charge of the Barons, and from what Jean had said, was strict but fair (he wasn’t Tetsuji).

He took a few minutes to speak to Andrew privately, to welcome him to the team and inform him that as long as Andrew did his best to play and follow the rules (with an emphasis on those words, a stern gleam in his pale brown eyes), that he would back Andrew the same way that he backed all of his players. He also stated that he didn’t have a problem with Andrew’s sexuality but to be honest, it was a bit new to him, having an ‘out’ player (he wasn’t unrealistic enough to believe that Andrew was his first gay player) and they would have to figure a few things out, moving forward.

Only the fact that Andrew believed the man to be earnest about his little speech kept him from flipping him off and walking away, but all he did was nod before leaving to have Jean show him his locker and gear.

As he’d been warned, there were a lot of cool looks sent his way as the rest of the Barons arrived, some muttered mentions of his name and rolled eyes, yet Jean stood by his side along with the rest of the ex-Ravens.

(Wonderful, he’d been adopted by a bunch of broken birdies.)

Michaels and the assistant coaches, Myers and Oliver, went over the packet that had been sent out to the team once everyone was gathered in a conference room of sorts for the team, a step up from the Foxes lounge; there were comfortable leather seats and a table with healthy drinks and snacks set out, and large monitor screens behind the two men and woman to show the schedule and training program, along with a lot of rules and regulations that they were expected to know.

It was all so mind-numbingly boring that Andrew actually looked forward to getting out on court the next day.

Neil called him in the evening to ask how it had gone and laughed when Andrew remarked about how much he owed him for all of this, then ranted about one of the new freshmen for a while. After Neil hung up, Andrew went out to drive the Ferrari for a little bit, willing to forego a couple of hours of sleep to lose himself to the purr of the powerful engine and the rush of the highway once he got out of the city.

It wasn’t quite the same as South Carolina, but it was his life and he was standing on his own, was moving forward based on the decisions he’d made not just for someone else. He parked the car he’d bought with the money he’d earned from his own talents and went up to the apartment which was all his (no annoying roommates or noisy family), the security system set for the night (no concerns of anyone getting in to hurt him) and slept in a bed he had all to himself (perhaps he wouldn’t have minded the company of a certain little bird).

Coach Michaels had everyone do drills the next day, Myers working with Andrew and a couple of other rookies. The statuesque woman had played for the German team before starting a family, much like Michaels, and smiled at Andrew when he answered in German when she complained about the new striker, Walkens, fumbling a shot. The drills were similar to Ravens’ ones that Andrew had seen over the years (and had done somewhat once Meg took over as captain of the Foxes), so he was quick to pick up the first one even without his eidetic memory.

“You’re really good at this,” Ray Talbert, the new backliner (traded from the Chicago Blues) told him as he leaned against his racquet; they were waiting for their turns again while Myers dealt with the idiot striker.

Andrew gave the man an even look since Talbert was the first Baron other than Jean and the ex-Ravens to talk to him. “Imagine that, recruiting someone semi-proficient,” he drawled.

Talbert chuckled at that while he adjusted the chin strap of his helmet. “I see you’re just as charming as the rumors say.” He was built like a typical backliner: at least six feet all and broad-shouldered, his features plain except for dark blue eyes. “Definitely a Fox, I still remember the earful your old captain gave the captain of my team back then when he called her ‘sweetie’.” When Andrew continued to stare at him, he shrugged. “I played for Belmonte but graduated five years ago.” When Andrew didn’t say anything, he began to fidget with his racquet. “What?”

“Why are you talking to me?” Was it some sort of joke or had Jean put him up to it?

“Well, we’re both newbies, right?” When Andrew scoffed at that, Talbert shook his head. “What, you don’t believe me?”

“Might want to look for a buddy elsewhere than the team’s official pariah,” Andrew informed him.

That seemed to confuse Talbert for a couple of seconds until he rolled his eyes. “Because of how everyone’s upset over the whole ‘don’t be an insensitive ass’ videos and everything? That doesn’t bother me.”

“How enlightened of you,” Andrew said in a sarcastic manner.

“Nah, it’s because of my wife, to be honest.” Talbert held up his left hand, which was covered by a glove. “Her little sister is gay and so are a couple of friends. I mean, not like I really gave it much thought before I met Bri, but that brings it home, when you know someone and care about them.”

“Ask me if I care,” Andrew told him; why was this guy still talking to him?

He expected his usual brusque (asshole) demeanor to scare the guy away, but all Talbert did was laugh and shake his head again. The man reminded him a bit of Boyd (was it a tall backliner thing? Well, a tall, _American_ backliner thing?), and before he could resume talking, Myers had him go through the drills again.

Still, Talbert hung near him through the day, and Andrew noticed that some of the younger Barons were a little less standoffish with him while the ‘old guard’ still gave him cold looks and the occasional muttered insult. Once or twice when those mutterings grew too loud, Jean or another of the ex-Ravens would intervene, would tap their racquets against the floor or call out a correction or something to make it clear that they were there and watching.

It annoyed him, their interference when Andrew didn’t appreciate anyone fighting his battles, when he’d put up with enough busybodies back with the Foxes… but it meant that even when out on the court owned by a Moriyama, he seemed to have some people watching his back (to a certain extent).

Between that and the fact that practices didn’t start at six am (though they did run for much of the day), he managed to get through the first week without maiming anyone (it was close a few times, especially when Don Miller, another sub goalie who’d been with the team for a couple of years, decided to give him some grief). His first week as a Baron, as a professional Exy player.

“Was it that bad?” Neil asked as he sat on the counter in Andrew’s kitchen and watched on while their dinner of penne alla vodka was cooked. “I mean, I could think of worse ways of spending the week, like you being a team mascot or physically tortured.”

Those were Neil’s two extremes? Bee really needed to get her hands on the idiot, Andrew thought as he turned down the heat beneath the sauce then checked the cooking pasta. “I’m not spending as much time on the bench with the Barons as I did with the Foxes, not when I’m learning all new drills and plays, that or taking part in short interviews or getting all the required shit out of the way like my physical and mandatory classes.” Kevin had warned him that there was more to being on a pro team than just playing, and all of it was annoying as hell.

He’d say that he’d get a bit of a break once the official season started, except that he’d be playing more than once a week and some of those would be away games. The only thing that made it bearable was the thought of a nice big paycheck and that Neil would put up with it next year.

“Poor lazy goth,” Neil taunted with a smile as he poked Andrew in the thigh with the pointed toes of his left foot. “Life’s so difficult when you have to actually work for a living, hmm?”

“Get out of my apartment,” Andrew ordered, then pulled Neil close when the idiot jumped down from the counter to obey him (for once). “You’re buying breakfast tomorrow for being a smartass,” he murmured as he tugged Neil’s head down for a kiss.

“Mmm, okay.”

The older Barons (not all, to be fair) might make their rookie comments and more whenever Andrew walked past, but they shut up whenever he was out on the court and in the goal, especially when Jean was on Andrew’s ‘team’ as well during a scrimmage. Riley Duffy, the starting goalie, didn’t give Andrew any trouble and seemed pleased to have help with the team’s defense, and yelled at his defensive line to help him keep the score even while Andrew (with assistance from Jean and Thom) all but shut down the goal.

Jean had been right in that professional players were better than their collegiate counterparts, which was why Andrew didn’t shut down the goal entirely; it was like playing the Ravens, a team of Kevins and Neils and Marleys with how fast the offense moved, the power and accuracy behind their throws. There were a couple of exceptions, but most of them were on one of the best teams in the pros for a reason.

It didn’t mean that Jean could continue to get on him about the fact that he hadn’t quit smoking yet or still hadn’t learned the latest play Michaels had created (he had it memorized, he just didn’t see the point in working on it since he was a _fucking goalie_ , which meant he stayed in a little box for a reason). _“You need to put more effort into these things_ ,” Jean chided as Andrew drove them to the stadium. “ _It needs to be you out on court for a game after Riley, not Don_.”

“Why? I get paid the same either way,” Andrew said.

Jean glared at him, either for speaking English or not agreeing. “Because it’s better for the team and better for your career.”

Andrew made a rude gesture to show what he thought about both of those things, to which Jean muttered in Japanese and pulled out his phone so he could text, probably with Neil (who should be busy with morning practice) and the bodyguards. Jean frowned after a couple of minutes when there wasn’t an answering ping, which Andrew found a bit odd since usually Bren and Janna were quick to respond (bored out of their minds watching a couple of addicts chase after a stupid ball).

Yet at that point, they’d reached the stadium so both their fight and any curiosity were put on hold as Andrew got through security then parked the Ferrari so they could reach the men’s locker room and change into their work-out gear before heading to the gym. He’d just pulled on his shorts and t-shirt (and ignored a sniggered joke from Miller about ‘was _he_ looking over here?’ which made Talbert glare) when his phone rang.

Reaching into his locker to fetch the device, Andrew frowned when he saw Dan’s name on the screen since she never called in regards to anything good. “What happened now?” he asked as he slammed the door shut and looked around for Jean while he leaned against it, body tense with anxiety; had Neil broken down again from stress? Had someone tried to kidnap him or worse?

Dan’s breath caught before she spoke. “Andrew… you need to get here as soon as possible, it’s bad. _Really bad_.”

He cupped his left hand over his ear to block out the sound of Oliver yelling at everyone to get their asses to the gym; after a moment, Talbert walked away, the room emptying of everyone but Jean and Andrew. “ _What happened_ ,” he repeated with a hint of anger. “Is he hurt?” Where the hell were Bren and Janna?

“All I know is something happened to his uncle,” Dan said. “He got a call several hours ago, Marley told us, and he was quiet at first. Then he just… he just _snapped_. His side of the room is trashed and we were afraid that he’d hurt himself, more than the bruises and everything, so Bren held him down while Hiro called Murray.” Andrew stilled as he heard about Neil being restrained and the team’s psychiatrist. “He gave him something to calm him down but….” Dan started crying just then, something Andrew had never heard her do in all of the years he’d known her. “Neil’s just lying there, he’s not responding to anything. Murray swears it was a mild sedative and should have worn off by now, yet none of us can get through to him.”

Something had happened to Stuart, one of Neil’s few remaining family members (the man he’d been worrying about for weeks now), and of course Neil didn’t react well (somehow, Andrew didn’t think he’d be called in what sounded to be the middle of the night over anything minor). What had the morons who were tasked with looking after Neil done? They’d held him down and called in a psychiatrist he didn’t trust to drug him, adding to the trauma.

No wonder Neil had shut down again – either shut down or stab everyone in reach, and Andrew couldn’t blame him for either.

“I’ll be there as soon as possible, and until I get there you will stay the hell away from Neil, do you understand?” Andrew told her as he punched his locker once then yanked it open. Jean flinched, either at the noise or the mention at Neil’s name, then rubbed at his face.

“That’s not-“

“Stay the fuck away from him, Wilds,” Andrew repeated as he pulled out his clothes so he could change. “You’ve done enough damage to him already.” Then he hung up so he could pull off his gym outfit.

“Neil?” Jean asked, his arms wrapped around his chest.

“ _Something bad with Stuart, and they messed him up trying to calm him down_ ,” Andrew explained as he threw the clothes into the locker without a care. For once Jean didn’t argue, he merely nodded.

Andrew had just pulled on his long-sleeved shirt when Michaels stomped into the locker room. “Why the hell aren’t you in the gym? Work-outs are mandatory.”

“Family emergency,” Andrew said as he tugged up his jeans. “I’ll be back in a couple of days.”

The older man’s eyes narrowed at that. “What is it, your brother or your cousin? We need some sort of information for the-“

Andrew slammed his locker shut behind him as he toed on his shoes. “It’s my boyfriend and you don’t need to know anything, just that it’s serious and I’ll be back as soon as he’s better.”

“Look, Andrew, a boyfriend isn’t the same as a spouse or a close family member.” Michaels shook his head as he folded his arms over his chest. “I can’t let players take time off whenever just because their latest relationship sprained an ankle or something.”

‘Latest relationship’? Andrew fixed the man with a blank look as his left hand formed into a fist. “Then how about _I_ need a few days off to recover, hmm?” He swung his fist back against the lockers’ frame hard enough to cause pain to jolt up his arm and skin to split on his knuckles, but he didn’t think he broke any bones _that_ time. About to swing again, he was stopped when Michaels and Jean leapt forward, their hands out to grab him.

“All right, all right!” Michaels cried out while Jean yelled Andrew’s name, both stopped by the hand shoved their way. “For fuck’s sake, Minyard, don’t go acting all crazy!”

“He knows what he’s doing,” Jean murmured as he pulled out his phone to start texting again.

Michaels gave him a confused look for that comment before he turned back to Andrew. “You have one day to-“ he paused when his phone began to ring. “One moment, let me-“ he pulled his own phone out and seemed ready to ignore the call when his eyes went wide. “One moment. Yes, Mr. Radcliffe?” he said as he answered it, then stared at Andrew while the team’s co-owner spoke on the other line. “All right, I’m talking to him now. I understand. Yes, sir. Good day.”

His frown returned as he gazed at Andrew in a considering manner. “Mr. Radcliffe says that you’re cleared for personal leave. You’re to be back by Monday and don’t talk to the press other than the most general statements, if at all.”

Andrew gave the man a two-fingered salute as he grabbed his phone from his pocket and headed for the door, uncaring about his bleeding left hand as Jean fell in step beside him.

“Andrew,” Michaels called out, “don’t make a habit out of this.” When Andrew glanced at his coach, Michaels expression was more concerned rather than stern. “It’ll just be another reason for people to hold a grudge against you.” When Andrew gave a slight shrug in return, Michaels sighed and looked at Jean. “You leaving, too?”

“No, Coach,” Jean told him. “I’ll be there shortly.”

“Good.”

Jean waited until they were out in the hallway to speak again. “ _Declan’s waiting for you in the parking lot_.”

That shouldn’t surprise Andrew, not when Radcliffe had intervened back there (Bren or another Hatford’s work?), but it meant that Jean would be left unsupervised for the day; the Hatford bodyguard followed them to the stadium and back to the apartment, mindful to never let Jean out of his sight for long. “ _What about you_?”

“ _I’m to remain here until Jamie sends someone to take his place_.” Jean gave Andrew a slight nod. “ _Take care of Neil and keep me updated_.”

Andrew hesitated only a moment before he fetched the keys to the Ferrari from his jeans. “ _If there’s so much as a scratch on it, you’re buying me a new one, Moreau_ ,” he declared as he handed them over. He told himself it was better than letting the car sit at the stadium for a few days, especially with some of their teammates, and tried not to think of all the stories that Neil had told him about Jean’s driving abilities. To be fair, Jean had driven a couple of mornings and he seemed to have improved since his days at Edgar Allan.

“ _Perhaps you should just stay away, gargoyle_ ,” Jean said as he took the keys then headed for the gym.

Declan was indeed waiting for Andrew once he stepped outside, sitting in the black Mercedes SUV with the tinted windows. Andrew climbed up into the passenger seat and was told to look in the glove compartment for the first aid kit as soon as he was settled in the vehicle.

“One minute, let me check for flights first.”

“No need, the private plane’s already waiting.” Declan gave him a grim smile at his surprise, which he couldn’t entirely suppress. “Jamie ordered it to get ready for you, she doesn’t want you to have to wait a couple of hours for an available flight to Charleston.”

Andrew was quiet as he fetched the kit and wiped the drying blood from his knuckles. “What does Ichirou think about all of this?”

“Honestly? She doesn’t give a fuck, though as far as we can tell, he didn’t object once he heard about Neil.” Declan glanced at Andrew then focused on the morning traffic.

Once his hand was clean and wrapped up, Andrew tested the bandages and asked the important, outstanding questions. “What’s going on? Is Stuart still alive?” He may not care at all for the man, but Stuart Hatford looked out for Neil, more or less. What mattered to Andrew was that _Neil_ cared about his uncle.

Declan was quiet for about a block of traffic then sighed, his ruddy face drawn with bleak emotion. “Stuart’s dead and things… they aren’t quite fucked up but they aren’t good.”

That explained Neil’s initial reaction, Andrew supposed. “What happened? He get in the way of a bullet meant for Ichirou?” Somehow Andrew doubted he was trying to take out the little prick since the Hatfords were still working for Moriyama and Neil was still down in Edgar Allan.

“That’s… it’s complicated,” Declan hedged, then sighed when Andrew kicked the dashboard. “Look, things have been off between Stuart and Ichirou for a while now.”

“Doesn’t sound complicated to me,” Andrew said as he fought not to have a cigarette. “Was he killed on Ichirou’s orders? If so, why are you still working for the prick?”

“Complicated,” Declan gritted out. “There was a job that needed done and Stuart knew it would be bad, that the risk was high so he accepted it and didn’t tell anyone else about it, not even Davis, the fucking git.” Declan slammed his hand on the horn at a cab which had just cut him off then slumped in his seat while Andrew thought about how Neil wasn’t the only martyr in the family. “Did Ichirou have to give it to Stuart? Debatable, highly debatable, especially when he has a lot more expendable resources. But Ichirou’s made it clear lately that he prefers Jamie to Stuart and wasn’t happy with him, so maybe Stuart… maybe he figured that if he survived the job that it might earn him some forgiveness and if he didn’t? Then it got him out of the way without any collateral damage to the rest of us.” The man sniffed a little and swiped his left hand over his eyes. “He always looked out for us.”

Yes, fool martyrdom did indeed run through the Hatford bloodline. “ _Why_ would Ichirou want Stuart gone?” Andrew gritted out as he tapped his fingers along his thighs, his patience wearing thin.

Declan ran a red light while he seemed to debate answering that question. “Because Ichirou wasn’t happy that Stuart used you as a way to get Neil from him. Because he’s tired of getting pushback from the older crime lords and bosses for being an uppity little wanker and feels that he needs fresh blood on his team, that Jamie’s better than Stuart because she’s younger and more flexible.” He shot Andrew a nervous look before he merged into a lane of traffic which would take them onto the highway. “And because Ichirou blames him for those pictures of you and Neil leaking.”

That last statement surprised Andrew since he’d suspected Ichirou for being to blame for the whole mess, not _Stuart_. “What? How was Stuart responsible for the press finding out about us? More importantly, why would he do something to upset Neil like that?”

“He oversees’ Neil’s security, and he supposedly dealt with some pap whom Janna reported to him who’d been hanging around the campus. As to why?” Declan shook his head. “Don’t you get it? Ichirou still thinks that Neil’s his, that he just has to bide his time until the people who complained about the relationship are either gone or have lost enough power to matter. How much you wanna bet at that point, something happens to the brakes of whatever fancy car you’re driving, that or you’re a victim of a nasty mugging?”

Andrew always knew he couldn’t trust Ichirou any farther than Nicky could throw the insecure little prick. “And Stuart’s grand plan was to out me and Neil? I’m upset that I didn’t get a chance to kill him for thinking up something that stupid.”

Declan gave him a sour look for that. “As far as the rest of us can tell, it was his way to tie you to Neil all the better, you fuckin’ ingrate. Kind of makes it difficult for Ichirou to do anything with Neil when everyone knows that the two of you are together, and if something happens to you then Ichirou steps in? How does that look?” When Andrew merely gazed at him, he made a rude gesture. “Stuart _tried_ , dammit. Maybe it wasn’t the best plan, but he _tried._ ”

Perhaps, but look where it had gotten them all – the man dead, Andrew and Neil’s privacy violated, and Neil emotionally gutted. Thinking of the latter, Andrew pulled out his phone and sent a couple of texts to Bee describing his boyfriend’s condition to see if she had any thoughts on the situation.

There was an answer by the time they reached the airport, but not much; Bee was leery to provide a long-distance diagnosis with so little information and told Andrew to call once he reached the Nest. Since it was the summer, Bee had some free time and could shift an appointment or two around while she waited for Andrew to reach Charleston.

The plane took off soon after Andrew and Declan boarded, the distaste of flying offset by the lack of other passengers and a well-stocked bar. Andrew had a couple of shots of whiskey to make the flight bearable, and was grateful that it wasn’t a long trip.

Janna was waiting for them when they landed, her expression grim as she rushed them into the SUV before anyone approached Andrew. “No change,” she said before Andrew could ask. “He’s still not responding to any of us, it’s like he’s catatonic. He’s slipped into a fugue state a few times in the past, but nothing this bad or for this long.”

“Why the hell did you call Murray?” Andrew demanded to know as he checked the glove compartment for his spare knives since he’d had to leave his other pair behind in New York. “Neil can’t stand the man.”

“Because we really thought he’d hurt himself if he didn’t calm down,” Janna snapped. “You weren’t here, you didn’t see how he was. He’d taken a knife to his bedding and even the walls, destroyed his books, laptop and phone, busted up some of his furniture. When he cut himself it was the last straw.”

Andrew drew in a sharp breath when he heard that. “Was he trying to kill himself?”

Janna shook her head. “We don’t think so, at least not intentionally, it wasn’t the right type of cut, but he was lashing out with the knife and if he hit the vein just so….”

They wouldn’t stand back and chance it, in other words, chance that Neil had survived so much and then been done in by a stupid fluke like that.

Nothing else was said until they reached Evermore; Janna told them that Marley had been ordered to deal with the Ravens, to step into Neil’s spot on the team and had done so under complaint since she wanted to be by her partner’s side. Dan was out on court ass well, but joined them as they headed into the Nest.

“That was fast,” she said as she hurried to keep up with them. “Bren and Murray are with him, not that anything’s happened lately.”

“Murray shouldn’t be near him,” Andrew gritted out. “Neil only suffers the man because all of the players have to, he doesn’t trust him.”

Dan and Janna’s faces flushed at that. “Dammit, Andrew, you weren’t here! Kathy was afraid of hurting him and didn’t have anything to calm him down, so we called Murray in to help.”

Andrew assumed she’d referred to the Ravens’ nurse or whatever and clicked his tongue. “And just made it worse, didn’t you?” Why had they waited so long to call him? Because he was in training, too? It didn’t matter just then because they’d reached Neil’s room, which he entered first.

Bren was crouched by Neil’s bed and there was a stranger standing next to it as well, a man in his thirties whom Andrew recognized from a couple of internet searches - Liam Murray. The psychiatrist appeared tired and a bit rumpled as if woken up in the middle of the night, dressed in jeans and cotton shirt with stubble on his face and dark hair tousled. Andrew gave him a cursory look before he took in the damage of the room: along the one side there were gouges and dents in the black wall, the desk was missing its chair, drawer and one of its legs, the shelf above it was broken, and there were stray bits of fill from bedding floating in the air and tucked into the corners.

As for Neil, he lay unresponsive on the bed save for a slow blink now and then and shallow breaths while Bren patted his shoulder. “Come on, Red, you’re missing practice,” the bodyguard urged him in a hoarse voice, his eyes bloodshot and nose swollen as if he’d been crying. “You love acting like a terror on the court. What would Stuart think if he-“

“ _Don’t_ ,” Andrew ground out as he approached the bed. “Don’t do that to him.” Don’t lay more guilt on Neil when that was probably part of the reason he had retreated in on himself in the first place, the damn martyr.

Bren stood up and backed away at the sound of Andrew’s voice and rubbed at his eyes as if they bothered him. “You try it,” the British man told him while Murray gazed at Andrew in interest. “You can usually get through to him.”

Usually. Andrew went over to the bed and hunched down beside it as he studied his boyfriend, as he took in the bruises along the left side of Neil’s face, the scratches over the ‘4’ tattoo (self-inflicted, his guess), the dark circles beneath his eyes, the bandaged hands and left arm. He was wearing Andrew’s PSU sweatshirt, which looked clean, which prompted a fresh wave of anger in Andrew even as he noted that the stuffed fox had somehow made it through everything unscathed and the colorful quilt with only a few tears.

“You changed his clothes?” he asked, his tone deceptively light as he combed his fingers through Neil’s hair.

“Yeah, after… well, once he was knocked out,” Bren explained. “He was a mess, all sweaty and a bit bloody, and we wanted him to be comfortable.”

When he’d been helpless, in other words. How many times had Neil felt other people’s hands on him, had felt them pull at his clothes when he’d been unable to do anything, had thought himself safe from that, only to have that nightmare strike him once again?

One more trauma on top of another, one too many – no wonder he’d shut down. “Hey,” Andrew whispered. “Wake up so you can watch me gut some people.”

Nothing.

“Neil?” he said a little louder as his hand cupped the back of his boyfriend’s neck. “Wake up, you’re safe now.”

There was a slight fluttering of Neil’s lashes, but otherwise no reaction.

“I can try a stimulant,” Murray offered. “Something that will-“

“You come near him and I’ll slit your throat,” Andrew swore as he rubbed his thumb beneath Neil’s right ear. “Get him the hell out of here.”

“I don’t think that you-“

“Janna, I’m not exaggerating.” Andrew studied Neil for a reaction and other than his boyfriend’s breathing easing a little, Neil still didn’t show any signs of ‘waking’ up.

“Come on.” Janna hauled a protesting Murray away while Dan came over to squat next to Andrew.

“I really thought that he’d snap out of it for you, he’s done it in the past. What are we going to do now?” She gave him a concerned look before she gazed at Neil.

All Andrew did was grunt once before he pulled out his phone to call Bee, who answered on the second ring. “How is he?”

Andrew put her on speakerphone then dropped the phone on the bed so everyone could hear since he figured that would hurry things along. “Not good. These morons here not only had that quack Murray dose him with something.” He gave a pointed look to Janna at that since she was back in the room, “but they also stripped him and changed his clothes, too.”

“The shot was a mix of Ativan, Haldol, and Benadryl,” Janna called out while Dan and Bren scowled at Andrew’s summary of events. “And we were trying to make him more comfortable.”

Bee was quiet for a moment as she took that in. “Why not just give him Ativan if you had to drug him at all? I don’t like Haldol and its side effects, not when dealing with someone with Neil’s past, and it might be contributing to things right now if it’s the predominant drug in the mix.”

Dan blushed while Bren shot a murderous look at the door. “But… but we were just trying to help, Bee. He was hurting himself.”

“I know, Dan, it’s often difficult to think of what to do in stressful situations like that,” Bee assured her while Andrew resumed combing through Neil’s tangled hair. “But I have to agree with Andrew’s assessment that none of it has helped Neil. From the little I know about him and the time I spent with him in person, he’s very defensive and on guard, and now he’s been weakened further when he’s already reeling from an emotional blow.”

“What do we do to fix this?” Dan asked as she reached out to brush her fingers along the back of Neil’s bandaged right hand.

Bee was quiet as she thought it over. “Take him somewhere else,” she suggested. “There’s too much… oh, I hate how new age this sounds, but there’s too much negative energy there at the Nest. Negative association, I should say. Take him somewhere different, Andrew, make him feel comfortable and safe. I think he can’t come back because he expects more pain if he does, and he’s reached his limit right now. Take him somewhere without pain and give him a chance to recover.”

Take him someplace where he hadn’t been raped and beaten and drugged against his will, someplace that wasn’t associated to the Moriyamas and Stuart’s death, in other words. It made sense to Andrew, even as Dan choked back on a sob.

“I’ll do that,” Andrew told Bee. “But it’s just a short-term fix, him waking up. You have a spot open to take on a new patient?” That earned him a surprised look from Dan while Bren and Janna took to murmuring to each other in the corner of the room.

“If you can convince him to talk to me, I’m here for him,” Bee agreed. “But he has to be _willing_ to be my patient for it to work, Andrew,” she reminded him.

Neil would agree, eventually; Andrew wasn’t letting this go, not after today. “Anything else right now?”

“Make him comfortable and be aware that the drugs might impact his memory a little. Call me if nothing changes or you need more help, and give it a little time.”

“I will.” Andrew ended the call then got up so he could grab some clothes for Neil. “You guys figure out a place for us yet?”

Bren nodded while Janna left the room. “Yeah, we’ll head out to the one safehouse, it’s private and quiet.”

“I’ll need some clothes and a charger for my phone,” Andrew told him as he went through Neil’s remaining drawers in an effort to find something for his lover that wasn’t obviously tied to Ichirou and a couple of things that could fit him as well; someone was going to get a new wardrobe in the near future, he decided when he stacked the cat hoodie, several Edgar Allan long-sleeved t-shirts and some drawstring pants along with a few pairs of underwear on top of the dresser.

“I’ll let Hiro know that you’ll be gone for a couple of days,” Dan said as she left Neil with a gentle hug, and gave Andrew a grateful smile along the way.

He found Neil’s travel bag in the closet, still packed with a couple of things from the last weekend in New York, and shoved the clothes inside of it while Bren went to the bed to pick an unresponsive Neil up as if he was an oversize doll then carried him out of the room.

Marley was waiting for them near the SUV, red-eyed, covered in sweat and still in her uniform, and nearly broke out in tears when she reached out to hug both Bren and Neil. “Take care of him, MF,” she told Andrew. “Bring him back all normal so I can yell at him for stressing me out so much.”

“Take a racquet to the next asshole who tries to dope him up,” Andrew shot back in return, which made Marley sniffle back a laugh and nod.

“It’s a deal.”

He sat in the back of the SUV with Neil’s head in his lap while Bren drove like a maniac to the farmhouse, and swore he felt Neil’s fingers twitch against his knee’s a time or two. He concentrated on running his fingers through Neil’s hair and rubbing the back of his boyfriend’s neck, the touch soothing to him at least, while Bren and Janna exchanged the occasional comment with each other. It was a mostly quiet drive, since Andrew didn’t have much to say to the two bodyguards other than ‘how could you fuck things up so badly?’.

He offered to carry Neil upstairs to the one bedroom they’d used the last time they’d been at the farmhouse, but Bren told him to fuck off and once more treated Neil like some precious princess. Andrew rolled his eyes at that and followed the two up the stairs, then ordered Bren to leave once Neil was laid down on the bed.

Bren cast an anxious glance at Neil. “Uhm, do you need any help to, ah…?”

“Go,” Andrew repeated. “I’ve got this.”

Bren rubbed at the back of his neck and sighed. “Just… call or yell or something if you need anything.” He gave Neil’s right cheek an affectionate pat before he finally left, and Andrew locked the bedroom door behind the man in annoyance.

He kicked off his shoes and removed his phone from his pocket as he regarded Neil with some thought, then went to the attached bathroom to start filling up the tub with warm water as he put into motion the plan he’d thought about on the drive to the house. All he removed were his armbands, socks and jeans before he returned to pick up Neil (no princess carry that time) and haul the unresponsive and lanky bastard to the tub.

It took a bit of effort to get the both of them into it (and water splashed all over the floor), but eventually he rested against the back of the tub with Neil tucked between his legs and against his chest as the warm water lapped all around them, not too hot but _comfortable_. Andrew allowed a little to drain out so more water could steadily pour in, mindful to keep the temperature constant as they soaked in it, especially since Neil was fully clothed (he hadn’t wanted to remove anything).

He thought it took at least half an hour of them lying in the water with him running his hands over Neil’s hair and his arms, which had been positioned on the rims of the tub so the bandages didn’t get wet, when he felt his lover begin to stir. The movements were slight at first, and it took another five minutes or so until Neil began to shiver, a faint motion which eventually grew to him shuddering.

“Neil.” Andrew repeated the name a few times before his boyfriend gasped and stiffened against him. “It’s all right, you’re safe.”

“Drew?” Neil made to draw away at first and Andrew let him, then slumped against him. “Andrew? Where… where are we?” His head craned around as he took in the pale green tiled and painted bathroom.

“We’re at the safehouse near Charleston. Here, you need out of these.” Andrew tugged at the wet sweatshirt then went to turn off the cold water in favor of hot. “Is it all right to take off your clothes?”

Neil let out a shaky breath before he nodded. “Charleston. Safehouse. You’re here.” It sounded as if he was grounding himself, which made Andrew think about what Bee had said about the drugs messing with his head. However, he set that aside for a moment and concentrated on them both shedding their soaked clothes and heating up the bath.

Once that was done and Neil was once more tucked against his chest, the shivers still present but mostly suppressed, Andrew wrapped a loose arm around his boyfriend’s scarred chest. “Do you remember what happened earlier?”

Neil’s bandaged hands wrapped around Andrew’s scarred forearm. “Stuart’s dead.” He sounded so bleak and tired just then, so drained of everything. “Jamie called.”

“And what happened after that?” Andrew massaged Neil’s tattooed shoulder as his boyfriend’s breathing sped up. “Neil?”

“I… I think Ichirou tried to call me. My phone kept ringing.” Neil’s hands rose to press against his temples as if he had a headache. “Marley was talking and the phone was ringing and it was too much so I threw it.” His body grew tense while he talked, until Andrew hugged him closer and he suddenly relaxed. “Then I just started throwing stuff and cutting things and there was all this noise and it’s… it’s a jumble.” His head lolled back onto Andrew’s shoulder. “I think I dreamed of Riko and Federov.”

“Bee said the meds might be messing you up a little,” Andrew offered.

That wrung a weak, mirthless laugh out of Neil. “Like I’m not a wreck in the first place.” He lowered his hands and picked at the bandages around his left fingers, removing some to reveal bruises and small cuts. “Why are we here?”

“Because you wouldn’t snap out of it and Bee suggested we get you out of the Nest.”

“Ah.” Neil was quiet and continued to pick at the band-aids until Andrew made him stop. “So what, Bren or Dan called you yet again to come deal with me and then you called Betsy?” He sounded bitter as well as tired.

“You were unresponsive and your friends were worried about you,” Andrew spelled out for the stubborn fool.

“I would have been _fine_ ,” Neil snapped as he yanked his hands free and pulled away. “I would have-“

“Neil, don’t,” Andrew said as he watched his boyfriend attempt to climb out of the tub while his arms trembled. “We both know that’s a lie. Stuart’s dead and you’re _not fine_ , you’re as far from it as you possibly can be.”

“You fucking bastard,” Neil snarled as he lashed out at Andrew with his right arm, which Andrew blocked with ease. Water sloshed over the rim of the tub as Neil turned toward him, face twisted with rage that quickly melted into grief as he tumbled against Andrew’s chest.

Raw, awful sobs spilled forth as he broke down, as he fractured apart, body limp with grief and exhaustion, yet his eyes remained dry as if he’d been wrung empty of tears over the years. Andrew managed to get him out of the tub and dried off (more or less) then onto the bed, where they lay sprawled next to each other with a couple of towels draped over them while Neil dealt with Stuart’s death.

“It’s my fault,” he mumbled as the shudders eventually died down, his hands inanimate things between his and Andrew’s chests. “He’d be alive if it weren’t for me.”

“That’s not true, you damn fool,” Andrew said as he stroked his fingers along the faint scar on Neil’s face. “You’re not to blame for this.”

“But-“

Andrew cupped his hand over Neil’s mouth and shook his head. “ _No_. Listen to me,” he insisted when Neil’s bloodshot eyes narrowed. “Did you put a gun to Stuart’s head to make him take up a life of crime? To offer up his services to the Moriyamas? Did you actually kill him? Any of that?” He waited until Neil shook his head. “He was a grown man and knew what he was doing, had more of a say in his life than you _ever_ did, you idiot, so don’t take this on yourself. Blame Ichirou for sending him on the job that ended up getting him killed and blame Stuart for being an obedient fool, but don’t for a single moment think you’re responsible for any of it.”

He knew it wasn’t that simple, knew that Neil would feel guilty for a long time to come because he was the fool of a martyr who needed to save everyone, who shouldered the burdens he should ignore. Which was why Andrew would repeat the truth for as long as was necessary.

“But… I know he came here for my mother, but he stayed in large part because of me,” Neil tried to argue as his hands pressed against Andrew’s chest. “And I couldn’t save her, could only watch her die, and now he’s gone, too.”

Damn. Martyr. Complex. Andrew reached out to cup his boyfriend’s face between his hands. “You didn’t save _them_ ,” it wasn’t Neil’s job to save them, two adults who should have known better, “but you saved Jean. You saved Meg and Marley. Hell, you even saved Bren, why I don’t know.” He’d saved Andrew, too, in a way, though those words caught in Andrew’s throat and wouldn’t slip free. “You can’t save everyone, but you’ve saved more than most, you idiot.”

Neil was quiet as he gazed at Andrew, something tremulous yet breathtaking in his eyes and expression until Andrew grew uncomfortable and clicked his tongue. “Stop looking at me like that,” he demanded.

“Like what?” Neil asked with a slight smile.

“As if I’m a damn answer of some sort, or your personal savior. I’m not anything of the sort, especially in regards to you.” He didn’t hold the solution to all of Neil’s problems.

“Hmm, I disagree,” Neil said as he nuzzled into Andrew’s left palm.

“You really are an idiot.” Yet Andrew didn’t pull his hands away.

“Maybe, but you always make me feel better,” Neil confessed as he gazed at Andrew once again. “No matter what happens, you put me back together and make everything all right. You make me feel good.”

“You give me too much credit,” Andrew scoffed yet he remained on the bed.

“And you don’t give yourself enough.” Neil scooted closer as he continued to hold Andrew’s gaze. “Make me feel better, Drew. I’m tired of the pain.”

Andrew wanted to say that it probably was a bad idea right then, but there was such naked need in Neil’s expression, such pleading in his voice that Andrew found himself wrapping his arm around his boyfriend’s hips and pulling him across the bed until their bodies were flush together. Neil kissed with a palpable desperation, eager to lose himself in Andrew, in the pleasure and desire which sparked like magnesium on fire – intense and unwilling to go out until those emotions were entirely spent.

The bandages on Neil’s forearm reminded Andrew that he might have lost his boyfriend earlier, that there was still so much out there that could come between them. It spurred him on to have Neil groan out his name as they rocked together, as he stroked his hands along scarred skin and sucked traces of bathwater from the neck arched before him.

He gave Neil’s firm ass a gentle squeeze then forced himself off the bed to fetch the small bag packed inside the larger one Neil used whenever he traveled, which prompted a low whine of complaint from his lover. Once it was in hand he returned to the bed, only to frown when he opened it and found a half-empty bottle of lube but no condoms.

“What is it?” Neil asked as he sat up and draped his right arm over Andrew’s shoulder. When Andrew showed him the bag’s contents (or lack of contents), Neil frowned as well. “Oh.” He chewed on his full bottom lip for a moment then shrugged. “Ah, my latest blood test was negative and we’ve been together for a year now. It’s okay not to use any, right?” he asked as he gazed at Andrew with uncertainty as if expecting to be told ‘no’.

Andrew’s bloodwork for the Barons had come back negative for any diseases as well, and he’d been celibate for a while before he’d gotten together with Neil. Theoretically, it was all right for them to skip using the condoms, but it wasn’t a conversation he’d thought they’d be having just yet, especially not under these circumstances.

It wasn’t like they always had penetrative sex when they got together, he was fine with blowjobs and could even finger Neil if his lover needed something more. “Maybe we should-“

Neil’s expression crumpled as he pulled away a little, then he leaned forward and wrapped both arms around Andrew. “Ple- don’t say that if you’re worried about me, okay? I’m fine, I mean, I’m all right. I want this.”

“You just don’t want to think too much right now,” Andrew clarified, unwilling to let Neil rush things because he was hurting.

“And is that a bad thing?” Neil shivered as he closed his eyes. “I want to feel good, Drew. I want to feel good with _you_. Make me feel good and forget everything else right now. I trust you and it’ll be all right.”

Andrew still wasn’t sure if it was a good idea or not, but he couldn’t take Neil pleading with him like that so he pulled his lover in for another kiss, one just as desperate as before, and fell with Neil back down onto the bed.

He wouldn’t let Neil rush him, no matter how much the little bird cajoled or downright threatened him, took his time working Neil open while he writhed on the bed, Andrew’s mouth on his cock and fingers teasing against his prostate. There was a rasp to Neil’s voice when he came, body shivering and nails scratching lightly against Andrew’s scalp, eyes heavy-lidded with pleasure and chest flushed.

Andrew’s breath caught at the sight as he stroked his lube-covered hand along his cock, so hard and aching to be buried inside of his lover, and paused to nip at the sated smile on Neil’s swollen lips as he settled between the demanding bastard’s thighs. “Yes?” he asked as he pushed Neil’s right thigh forward, up against his chest.

“Yes, yes,” Neil chanted as his left leg hooked around Andrew’s upper left thigh, his breath hitching as Andrew sunk into him. “Oooh.”

Oh, _fuck_. It was… Andrew hadn’t thought it would be that much different, yet it was, somehow tighter and hotter and better. He bit back on a groan as he sunk in all the way, as Neil snapped his hips forward to speed things up, the bastard.

“Harder,” Neil urged him on, body twitching in over-sensitivity from the recent orgasm. “Faster.”

Andrew caught at the hands reaching for him and held them above Neil’s head, his grip firm but not too tight on his lover’s wrists. He gave a slight thrust of his hips to test that he’d prepared Neil well enough before pulling out almost all the way then snapping forward hard enough to shake the bed.

Neil gasped loudly as he arched his back, his hands fighting to get free for a few seconds before he gave in, before he cried out Andrew’s name and rocked up his hips, given over completely to the intense pleasure Andrew wrung out of him, the almost feral kisses and frenetic pace of the thrusts and strokes along his cock.

The ecstasy was a haze in Andrew’s mind as well, the need to _feel_ , to drag out another moan or keen or barely understood utterance of his name, to have Neil look at him as if he was the only thing in the world. He slipped his knees a little further beneath his lover’s ass and grunted when Neil nearly wailed in response, when Neil’s body clenched even more around him and felt his own orgasm approach; he gave Neil’s cock a squeeze and tugged on it faster, then bit into his bottom lip when his boyfriend cried out his name and came.

He lasted a couple of thrusts after that, vision hazing and hearing overwhelmed with the sound of his thundering heartbeat when the orgasm finally hit. Drained from his release and the intense sex, he slumped forward to rest his forehead against Neil’s shoulder and finally released his boyfriend’s wrists.

Neil lay there with his eyes closed, though his hands came up to comb gently through Andrew’s hair and a tired smile curved his lips. “Thank you,” he breathed out.

Andrew caught at his hands so he could check that he hadn’t bruised Neil’s wrists while holding them down. “Good enough?”

“Hmm, you’re open to complaints?” Neil laughed, the sound as tired as his smile but untainted by darkness, when Andrew made a sound of disgust and dropped his hands. “No, I’m good.” His smile faltered a little but he opened his eyes. “Well, as good as possible.”

“Come on.” Andrew watched closely but didn’t see Neil wince more than normal as he pulled out, though there was a slight blush to his cheeks since things were messier than usual. He half-dragged the exhausted little bird back to the bathroom and helped him into the tub so they could take a quick shower before returning to the bedroom.

Andrew dressed in a pair of Neil’s cotton pants and one of his overlarge t-shirts; the pants were a bit tight and long but would do for the time being. Neil wore a similar outfit and after Andrew tended to his injuries (hands more bruised than anything, but there were a couple of cuts on his left forearm which had required stitches, one running along the inside which had probably prompted the others to panic so much over him), stretched out beneath the covers and was asleep within minutes.

Deciding to allow himself one cigarette after everything, Andrew smoked near the window while he sent Bee a text before he climbed beneath the sheets on the side of the bed next to the wall and draped an arm over Neil’s hips, exhausted himself after everything that had happened the last few hours and left languid from the sex. It took him longer to fall asleep, but he managed to nap for a couple of hours before he woke up from hunger.

Still asleep and likely to remain that way for a few more hours, considering the emotional wringer he’d been through, Neil slept through Andrew getting up to fetch his phone to send a text to Bren. It only took about ten minutes for the man to come knocking on the door, the sounds faint as if he was mindful of the room’s occupants.

Andrew opened the door but didn’t allow the bodyguard inside; Bren appeared recovered from earlier and gave him a slight smile, a tray of food in his hands and a large shopping bag dangling from his left wrist. “Everything better now?” His deep voice was pitched low and he glanced over Andrew toward the bed, where Neil was still unconscious.

“He’s sleeping, probably won’t wake up for a while,” Andrew said as he motioned for the stuff. “If anyone says to him that he needs to get better for his uncle? I’m carving their tongue out then and there, got it?” he warned; he refused for Neil to feel guilty over grieving for Stuart and having that thrown in his face as something that he needed to fix.

Bren grew flustered at that. “We didn’t… okay, got it.” His dark brows grew together as he handed Andrew first the bag then the tray which held a couple of sandwiches, some thick cut potato chips, a mug of sweetened coffee and a large tumbler of whiskey. “He’s not the only one upset about Stuart, you know. All of us are a bit messed up right now.”

“He’s the only one I give a damn about.”

“Yeah, we know that.” Bren sighed then shook his head. “Quite the pair you make. Just look after him, all right?” He gave Andrew a curt nod before he walked away.

Andrew used his foot to close the door since his hands were full, and had to lock it after the tray was set down on the nightstand. The bag contained a couple of bottles of water, a charger for his phone (which he plugged in right away), a pack of new underwear and some clothes in his size – sweatpants and long-sleeved t-shirts, all black and a decent brand.

He gathered the wet towels and clothes from the bathroom, along with the soiled duvet from the bed, and set them outside the door in the hallway before he sent another text to Bren about the laundry, then returned to the bed to eat his meal while Neil slept on, dead to the world. He’d be concerned by that level of unconsciousness, but could recall a time or two when he’d been so wrung out that he’d been too exhausted to be on guard.

Once the food was gone, he read a bit on his phone and texted with Bee, Renee and Jean before he went back to sleep. It was at some point during the night that he was jolted awake when Neil began to stir, disturbed by a nightmare.

Willing to bet that the dream had something to do with Stuart and at least one Moriyama, Andrew wasn’t surprised when Neil didn’t want to go back to sleep, especially since he’d slept for a dozen hours or so. “Let’s get you fed, then,” Andrew said as he motioned for Neil to climb out of bed.

Neil was a bit unsteady on his feet at first, but Andrew suspected it mostly had to do with the fact that he hadn’t eaten at all that day than the sex earlier or anything else. Once in the kitchen, Andrew gave him a lift onto the counter and a bottle of water to drink, then scrounged through the cabinets and fridge to find something to cook.

There was some cheese ravioli in the freezer, so Andrew decided that was quick enough and got the water boiling and a jar of sauce in a pot while Neil hunched over in displeasure. “I’m training now, I don’t think that’s a good idea, especially when I’m missing a few days of practice.”

“Don’t care,” Andrew told him. “Keep it up and it’ll be pizza tomorrow.”

Neil opened his mouth as if to argue then seemed to think better of it and settled on a rude gesture instead. It was around then that Bren and Janna came stumbling into the kitchen, both bleary-eyed and armed, but wearing robes at least.

They perked up when Neil waved to them and went to fuss over the idiot, who tolerated it well enough, all things considered. That allowed Andrew to finish cooking the meal in peace, and all four of them sat down to eat (Janna only had a couple of bites) once it was ready.

There wasn’t any mention of Stuart, just that they’d be staying for a couple of days until Neil felt ‘better’. Andrew could tell that Neil was annoyed at being ‘coddled’, but he could also pick up on how anxious his friends were about him and must have decided to not add to the strain.

Instead, he asked Andrew about the Barons, as if he didn’t do that all the time, and if he’d get in trouble for skipping out of practice. Andrew told him it was fine (Radcliffe had okayed it, after all) and that so far, he hated professional Exy just as much as he’d hated amateur Exy.

When they returned to the room, it was to watch a couple of movies on the television there until Neil fell asleep again, that time in a more natural sleep. Andrew joined him as well, and was pleasantly surprised to wake up to a smiling Neil who asked him ‘yes or no’ and proceeded to give him a blowjob which left his mind wonderfully blank for several seconds.

He returned the favor, of course, content to feel the tension in his lover’s body relax because of his hands and mouth, because of something he did. Afterwards, they took a shower together so he could wash Neil’s hair and the rest of him (Neil complained that his hands were fine).

They left the bandages off that day to air out the wounds; Andrew thought that it was a good thing Neil was taking a break from Exy but should be all right by the time he did return to court. He should be all right.

Physically, of course.

Which meant that Andrew had to deal with something right then.

Neil smiled as he pulled on the cat hoodie over a pair of dark grey cotton pants, the expression only slightly tinged with sadness. “What’s for breakfast?”

“We’ll see when we get down there,” Andrew said. “But first, I want to talk to you about something.”

That earned him an arched eyebrow. “ _You_? Want to _talk_? About what, cars or a new bakery you want to try out?”

Amusing. Andrew gave the mouthy little bird a gentle shove onto the bed then sat beside him. “I want you to do something.” He could say it was for him, but really, Neil needed to do it for himself.

“Okay.” Neil cocked his head to the side while he tugged the left cuff of the hoodie down his arm. “What is it.”

“I want you to call Bee and arrange weekly sessions with her, to have her take over for that prick Murray.”

Neil was quiet for a couple of seconds before he shook his head. “You know why I can’t do that.”

“No, I don’t.” Andrew reached out to tug the hood over the stubborn fool’s head then cupped Neil’s still bruised and scratched up left cheek. “I know you worry about her, but she used to have Kevin as a patient and Meg still sees her all the time. She knows about the Moriyamas, Neil, not everything but enough.” He tapped his thumb against the ‘4’ tattoo when Neil tried to shake his head. “You don’t have to tell her everything you do for Ichirou, but the truth’s out there about your father and Tetsuji and some of the things that happened at the Nest.”

“But… but I don’t know,” Neil admitted as he wrapped the fingers of his right hand loosely around Andrew’s wrist while he worried at his bottom lip. “I just don’t know. Murray’s someone I can lie to and blow off, I don’t think I can do that with Betsy. She’s too observant. And why do I need to see her?” he asked with a flash of anger. “Do you think I’m weak or something? That I can’t manage on my own?”

Andrew slid his hand around to Neil’s nape. “Do you think _I’m_ weak to talk to her all the time? To have weekly sessions with her?” he countered right then, rather than bring up Neil’s constant breakdowns when he was on the defensive.

That made Neil’s anger deflate and his head shake. “No, I think you’re the strongest person I know,” he admitted as he slumped forward until his forehead rested against Andrew’s shoulder. “I couldn’t do this without you. Every time… every time you’ve been there to put me back together.”

Andrew massaged Neil’s nape as he closed his eyes. “Because Bee helped to put me back together, more or less. I’d have been no help to you the way I was when I first met her.” Back when he’d been nothing but bitterness and mistrust and hatred for everyone with a slight lacing of madness thrown in from the drugs and pain of too much betrayal and disavowal. “Neil, you can’t keep going on like this. Even the strongest material cracks under constant stress. How many times have you blacked out since you’ve been at the Nest?”

“Uhm… it hasn’t been so bad since Ichirou, well, since your deal with Ichirou,” Neil confessed as he pulled away and rubbed at his eyes, which wasn’t a proper answer.

“But it still happened,” Andrew pointed out. “Did it, back when you were with your mom?”

Neil’s shoulders hunched forward and he wrapped his arms around his chest. “Not… not quite. I mean, I’d always try to blank my mind whenever I had to deal with my father, when he was angry with me and trying to teach me a lesson, and sometimes it was easier to deal with things that way when I was with my mom.” He didn’t elaborate on what those ‘things’ were, and his expression was so miserable that Andrew decided not to push.

“Then it’s getting worse, which is a really bad sign.” Andrew didn’t like to keep pushing on something that obviously bothered Neil, but he was also right; the condition was escalating and he didn’t see it getting any better as long as Ichirou considered Neil property and the Hatfords worked for the prick. Best for Neil to attempt to gain some control over it sooner rather than later, and that meant for him to work with Bee, the best therapist whom Andrew knew. “I’m not asking you to do more than give her a try, all right? And I wouldn’t bring this up if I didn’t think that Bee could help.”

“I know.” Neil chewed on his lip a little more before he nodded once. “Okay, I’ll do it, I’ll talk to her instead of Murray.” He offered Andrew a tight, nervous smile. “You might want to warn her that I don’t really deal well with psychiatrists.”

“She’s used to it, after five years with me. Considering how much of a smart-ass know-it-all she can be at times, I’d say that she deserves you,” Andrew teased as he urged Neil off of the bed so they could get something to eat.

Neil’s smile strengthened. “Really? That sounds a lot like you to me, maybe she won’t be that much of a problem after all.” He laughed when Andrew gave him a gentle cuff to the back of his covered head.

Andrew let Janna know that Neil had agreed to see Bee while Bren and the little bird were fighting over what type of tea to brew to go with the cheese and bacon omelets Andrew was making for breakfast. “Keep Murray the hell away from him.”

Janna nodded. “I’ll get with Dan and have it cleared that he’s still meeting the team requirement of attending the sessions,” she assured him. “Dan’s even checking with the team to see if they’re happy with the man or if she should have Hiro find a new psychiatrist, but she’s not going to rush anything if some are content with him and risk screwing up their therapy.”

Most of the players affected by Tetsuji would have graduated by then, other than Neil, Marley and Mills, but Andrew knew he’d be displeased if he was told he had to find a different therapist than Bee because of someone else’s decision. Perhaps the man had made a bad call that night, perhaps not, but he wasn’t getting a second chance to hurt Neil again.

Janna gave him a searching look for a couple of seconds before she smiled. “Things are going all right then? I figure that we’ll return Sunday morning, give you some time to head back to the city and rest up before practice on Monday.”

Andrew glanced over at Neil, who seemed to have won the fight with Bren. “It’s getting there.” Neil agreeing to talk to Bee was a big step, and a few days away from the Nest and (almost) anything Moriyama-related was a necessary break for him right then. “What about Stuart?”

Janna’s expression grew shuttered as she glanced at Neil, too. “The funeral should be Saturday, his body was flown back to London. There was some debate about Neil attending, but William decided that it would be too stressful for him with the flights and everything.” She hesitated as she tapped the sheathed knife on her right hip. “That and from what Jamie said, I don’t think Stuart wanted him there, either. Something about instructions left in regards to Neil, and him inheriting everything.”

Nice to see that someone thought about Neil’s well-being, even if it meant that he’d had to be hurt so badly in the process.

Neil slipped outside after breakfast, claiming he’d just be on the porch for a few minutes and needed some fresh air. When Bren hesitated in allowing him out the door, Neil rolled his eyes and said it was that or he’d go out a window, and hence got his way, the snarky little bastard. Andrew went with him, claiming that it was an excuse to have one of his four cigarettes a day.

He lit it up while Neil stood on the covered porch, the hood still pulled over his head and eyes cast on the overcast sky above, and waited for his boyfriend to speak.

“I don’t like it when people talk about me behind my back.”

Someone must have noticed him and Janna chatting. “I was telling her to keep Murray away from you.”

That explanation earned him a loud scoff. “You couldn’t tell her that in front of me?” Neil asked as he turned around and sat on the railing.

“It took a lot to convince you to talk to Bee, I didn’t want you to change your mind.” Andrew flicked ash aside as he approached Neil, a warmth that had nothing to do with the cigarette filling his chest when Neil parted his thighs so he could stand between them. “As you said, you don’t play well with shrinks.”

“I know I didn’t handle the news about Stuart well,” Neil gritted out, his eyes bright with emotion and cheeks flushed; Andrew inhaled on the cigarette to keep from saying ‘by well, you mean ‘not at all’’, “but part of it was how everyone seems to know what’s best for and just acts without talking _to_ me.”

Andrew slid his free hand into Neil’s hair, which prompted Neil to drape his arms over Andrew’s shoulders. “I wasn’t trying to do that. We talked about Murray and Stuart’s funeral.” He noticed how Neil tensed at the mention of his uncle. “I honestly didn’t think you’d want to hear about that.”

“Stuart.” Neil sounded so lost when he said his uncle’s name. “When are they burying him?”

“Saturday, according to Janna.” Neil’s arms tightened around Andrew’s shoulders upon hearing that bit of news. “Guess they flew his body back to London.” He kept the bit about Neil being an heir to himself.

“Yeah, I can’t imagine he’d want to be buried here,” Neil said with a humorless chuckle. “My mom… she used to say ‘at least I won’t die in the fucking States’ whenever she was hurt while we were in Europe.” There was another brittle laugh while Neil closed his eyes, most likely imagining the night when his mother had died and he’d had to dispose of her body. “I think that’s why I buried her on the beach instead of some abandoned building or in the forest or anywhere else – water goes everywhere.”

“Do you want to go to his funeral?” Andrew offered; if Neil said yes, he’d get the keys to the SUV and take Neil to the airport so they could fly to the UK, damn Ichirou and Michaels and the Hatfords.

The question made Neil open his eyes and a grateful smile to curl on his lips. “No, one burial was enough for me. I’d rather remember my uncle the way I saw him last, and not deal with the rest of the family again under such circumstances.”

“Okay.”

“Thank you, though.” Neil pulled Andrew in closer. “I want… I want a weekend where we can truly go away, not where we’re hiding in some safehouse or hanging out in the city or with a bunch of our friends. Just the two of us enjoying someplace new with no worries for once. I’ve been all over North America and Europe, but I’ve never really enjoyed any of it.”

Meanwhile, Andrew had lived in California and South Carolina and now New York City, and had traveled somewhat for Exy, but had enjoyed only a little bit of any of it. “One day,” he promised. Neil had his duties as the captain of the Ravens while Andrew had to prove himself as a Baron, but one day soon they should be able to manage such a thing.

“One day,” Neil repeated as if making it a pact between them. Then he sighed and placed his right hand against Andrew’s chest. “Did I ever tell you about my middle name?”

“No.” Andrew knew it from reading Neil’s stats and had just assumed that it had been randomly selected when his new identity had been created. “It’s Abram. Did Tetsuji come up with it or you?”

“Yeah.” Neil’s smile grew sad as he gazed at Andrew, who realized that he’d neglected his cigarette, which had burned down to the filter, dammit. “It’s actually my real name, or part of it. Nathaniel Abram Wesninski.” The smile grew wistful when Andrew blinked in surprise at Neil keeping anything that tied him to his original identity, to his _father_. “My mother gave it to me, you see, it’s from her family,” he explained. “We changed names all the time while on the run, but she’d call me ‘Abram’ when we were alone, when it was just the two of us and we could face the truth for a little while. She was the only person to call me it, her and Stuart.”

Andrew nodded in understanding of what Neil was trying to tell him, even though he despised Mary and had his issues with Stuart. “Abram,” he said, and watched how Neil shivered a little in response, how the smile strengthened and the fingers flexed against his chest.

Mary may have been an abusive, terrible mother and Stuart an uncle who hadn’t done enough to save his nephew, but Neil had loved them both despite those flaws. They’d been his family, had been the woman who’d taken him away from a murderous father and the man who’d killed that monster, and Neil (the fool) believed that he owed them for those things.

And now? Now for some reason he looked to Andrew for… for _something_ (there was the sound of Bee’s mocking laughter in Andrew’s head), and Andrew was foolish enough to drop everything to keep rushing in to put him back together. To tug Neil’s head down for a kiss that made him ache with desire and Neil squirm on the railing.

“Bedroom?” Neil gasped when they broke apart.

“Bedroom,” Andrew agreed as he slid his arms around Neil’s hips to heft his boyfriend over his left shoulder.

Bren wasn’t the only one who could carry people around, Andrew thought as he hauled a laughing Neil back into the house.

*******

“You sure about this?” Bren asked when Neil settled on the couch with a thermos of tea which Marley had made for him.

“Mostly,” Neil admitted as he fought not to hug his knees to his chest and opened the thermos instead; when his friend gave him a concerned look, he shook his head. “No, I’m going through with this, Andrew’s right that I can’t keep pretending that nothing’s wrong. So I’ll give his psychiatrist a try and see if she can’t help.” Andrew wouldn’t hold him to the sessions if Bee made him feel as uncomfortable as Murray had or if he didn’t think they were worth the effort… but Neil had felt the sense of peace he’d found at the safehouse vanish as soon as he’d returned to the Nest, as he’d focused on practice again and leading the Ravens on to another winning season, as he thought about seeing Ichirou the coming weekend.

He’d closed his eyes in the shower on Monday and somehow lost over fifteen minutes, only to snap out of it when an anxious Marley called out his name; he’d spent the rest of the night bundled in his mended quilts on his new bed in a room that still smelled faintly of fresh plaster and paint while his partner fussed over him with cup after cup of tea.

That thought made him smile as he took a sip of the spicy herbal tea before he pulled out his phone. “Let’s find out if this woman is a miracle worker, no?” he said as he searched for the phone number Andrew had programmed into it before they’d parted ways on Sunday – ‘Bee’. An image of an actual honey bee came up on the screen while it rang.

“Good luck with that,” Bren murmured as he put in some earbuds, his intent to listen to an audio book as a distraction while he nursed a whisky or two on the other side of the room during Neil’s session. Neil appreciated the gesture, even if he didn’t think there was anything he’d talk about with the therapist that Bren didn’t already know, at least any time soon.

Betsy Dobson answered on the fourth ring. “Neil?”

“Hi. Uhm, yeah,” he said as he put the phone on speaker, suddenly nervous. “Did Andrew give you my number?”

“No, he was leaving it up to you to call,” Betsy explained. “I’m happy you did.”

He’d signed some paperwork earlier, the usual medical stuff, but maybe Betsy hadn’t looked at anything that contained his contact information in an effort to maintain his privacy. “Thanks. So, uhm, how do we do this? For real, I mean?” He gave a nervous laugh as he drew up his knees after all and rested the cup from the thermos on top of them. “I don’t really know.”

“It’s up to you,” Betsy assured him, her voice warm and soothing; he imagined her as he’d seen the woman at Andrew’s graduation, with a bright, happy smile on her face whenever she’d looked at his boyfriend and affection glowing in her light brown eyes. Neil didn’t care for psychiatrists, for people whose jobs it were to pry into secrets and pick others apart, but Andrew was right in that she’d been good for him. “I’m here to help you, to work with you, so you set the pace and the direction.”

He sighed at that answer, which didn’t help very much. “I was hoping more for a ‘tell me your three biggest fears and look at these inkblots so I can figure out how messed up you are on a scale of one to ten’ type thing.”

“But something tells me that you’re not at the stage of trust to confess those fears to me and I don’t have any inkblots,” Betsy said with a wry tone, which stung a little to know that she’d figured him out that well already.

“Nothing about me being messed up, huh?” he rallied as he stared at the healing cuts on his fingers.

“Everyone’s at least a little messed up, Neil.” Betsy’s voice was soft and reassuring then. “Life leaves its scars on all of us in one way or another.”

He gave a bitter laugh at that statement as he thought about what lay beneath his clothes. “More than one way for some of us.”

“Sadly, yes. But scars are a sign that you’ve healed, that you took what life dealt you and overcame it, if you think about it.”

Neil stared around the room where he stood some nights and translated for Ichirou, where he talked about weapon shipments and worse, where he’d seen people killed and shuddered. “Sometimes it’s not really ‘overcoming’.” He gazed at the door leading to the small bedroom where he’d let Ichirou fuck him, where he’d broken himself into pieces again and _again_ , and felt a jagged laugh lodge in his throat. “Sometimes it’s surviving despite everything, even yourself,” he choked out as he closed his eyes to block out the sight of the door yet was unable to blot out the memories of the room, of the deaths and Stuart and-.

“Neil? Are you all right? Neil?”

He choked some more as he tried to laugh, as he tried to say that he was _never_ ‘all right’, and started when he felt something brush against his legs; he opened his eyes to find Bren pouring whisky into his cup. “Wha-what the hell, Bren?” he managed to say, his throat scraped raw as the words finally tumbled out.

“Drink that,” Bren ordered, his deep voice loud since the earbuds were still in and expression stern.

“Neil? Are you all right? Is someone there with you?”

He drank down the spiked tea first and sputtered a little when he answered. “Jus- gah, just a friend,” he tried to explain. “It’s okay.” At least Bren hadn’t given him the really potent stuff, Neil thought as he poured himself more tea to help wash away the taste.

“Ah. Usually these sessions are private.” There was a slight hint of reproach in Betsy’s voice.

“I’m not usually alone,” Neil warned before he sipped more tea. “And it’s okay, I don’t mind him being here.”

“Well, as long as you’re fine with it, and I must admit that it sounds like he’s helpful.”

“Yeah.” Neil shivered a little and hugged his legs tighter against him with his right arm, mindful of the healing cuts on his left. “I don’t think I like this therapy stuff so far,” he admitted.

“We have gotten off to a bit of a rocky start. Why don’t you tell me about your day?” Betsy proposed.

He frowned at that and had some more tea to put his thoughts in order. “That seems a lot like what I did with Murray. What’s the point?”

“I told you that you set the pace here, and I believe it’s best that we slow things down. Let’s work on getting you settled into it a little more, how’s that?” Betsy sounded amused yet encouraging, enough that Neil was willing to indulge her.

He had another sip of tea before he began talking about Exy practice and the team, about how annoying it was that Marley and Dan were keeping such a close eye on him when he just wanted to lose himself in his beloved sport, when it felt so good to run and match himself against the other players. It was also annoying to deal with Turner, but the freshman was finally settling down a bit more and focusing on the drills. Neil had the suspicion that Turner was determined to change his number before the end of the season, and planned on enjoying the battle between the rookie backliner and the sophomores who were just as determined to not give up the status they’d earned.

“Is it always that… well, ‘bloodthirsty’ comes to mind but I think that’s a little harsh,” Betsy said.

“Somewhat,” Neil answered as he figured out what she meant. “We’re very competitive here, but Coach Noguchi is fair when it comes to assigning numbers, especially since he used to be a Raven. We all earn our rank and we’re proud of that fact.” Well, Riko had given Neil his number, he thought as he brushed fingers along his tattoo, but he’d bled for it, had put in endless hours out on the court to be somewhat worthy of it.

Betsy chuckled for a few seconds. “I should expect that after knowing Kevin, but it’s still a bit of a surprise, I must admit. I’ve dealt with dedicated athletes before, but I must admit, I admire your drive.”

Neil felt his face heat up at the compliment. “Uhm, well, I guess you’re used to Andrew.” Then he felt like an idiot. “Sorry, I shouldn’t bring him up now, should I?”

“It’s all right, it’s unrealistic for you not to mention him when he’s such a big part of your life. As long as you don’t ask me anything that would violate the client confidentiality I have with him, meaning what we talk about during our own sessions, you and I are fine.”

“Oh.” Neil frowned as he rubbed at his bare feet. “This takes a bit of getting used to.”

“You’re doing fine,” Betsy assured him. “And I want you to know that you can call me whenever you feel like it, you don’t have to wait ‘til our weekly sessions. If I’m meeting with another client you can leave a message and I’ll respond as soon as I’m able.”

“That seems like a lot to ask of you.” Neil didn’t know why she was so willing to go out of her way to help someone she barely knew.

“It’s part of my job, I’m always on call for my patients and you’re one of them,” Betsy said in that calm voice of hers. “I know you have friends and there’s always Andrew, but never hesitate if you have something you need from me, too.”

“Okay.” He wasn’t sure that he would, but it would probably make Marley and the others happy to know that Betsy was reachable in case he ‘slipped’ again. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Neil.” She sounded happy for some reason. “Now we’re almost at the end of our hour and I think this is a good stopping point. Same time next week?” She paused for a couple of seconds. “The choice is yours if you want to continue.”

He gave a slight nod until he remembered that she couldn’t see it. “Yeah, it wasn’t that bad.” Surprisingly.

“High praise indeed,” Betsy said with another chuckle. “I look forward to hearing from you. Have a wonderful week, Neil, and don’t hesitate to call if you want to talk before then.”

“Bye.” He sat there for a minute or two after the call ended, until Bren came over to give his knees a nudge.

“So, all better now? Head all fixed?”

Neil snorted in derision at that. “Right, that’s all it took, one phone call.” A groan slipped free when he straightened his legs, the limbs sore from having been kept in a bent position for so long. “Was it a good book?”

“Eh? Oh no, wasn’t listening to anything other than you going on about how you dress up in a duck suit and doggy paddle around in the local pond to trick people into throwing bread at you,” Bren teased with a huge grin. “Highlight of my day, it was.”

“You’re a very disturbed man,” Neil told him. “Yet _I’m_ the one talking to the psychiatrist.”

“Such is life, Red.” Bren laughed when Neil smacked him in the (very firm) chest and tousled his hair. “Now come on, people are gonna start hunting me down if I don’t get you back to your room soon.”

Most likely, which made Neil scowl in frustration as they left the East Tower. He texted Andrew on the way back to the Nest to let him know that the first session hadn’t been too bad and that he’d keep up with them for the time being, and Andrew replied back that maybe they’d see some results in the next decade or two, the bastard.

Marley was waiting for Neil when he reached the room, yet another cup of hot tea on her hand (Neil was surprised that he hadn’t gotten sick of it yet, considering how much he’d had in the past few days). “How did it go?” she asked once they were settled on his bed.

“She doesn’t push like Murray does,” he said after he blew on the mug’s content (more of the spicy herbal blend, he thought that her mother had sent it in the latest care package). “That’s nice.”

“Yeah, he is a bit pushy, isn’t he? Always asking these questions to try to make you talk.” Marley made a face then shook her head. “I think Dan’s gonna have Noguchi replace him, no one likes him enough to keep him around. Maybe Betsy can recommend someone?”

“Maybe,” Neil agreed. “Dan knows her well enough, she can ask.”

“Can’t hurt, can it?” Marley shrugged then held up her phone to show him some texts that Robin and Meg had sent her until it was time for their evening practice.

Dan kept a close eye on him while he was out on court to make sure that he didn’t push too hard, but once the Ravens were in their gear and had their racquets in hand, were on the court and the ball was loose, there was no holding them back and no ‘going easy’ on each other. They were all determined to win, to prove that they were the best and so wouldn’t hold back at all, even during a practice session.

It was what he needed to take his mind off of things, to make him so tired that he slept through the night (and didn’t dream), to make the time go by quickly. Even if the days were racing to another weekend when he’d be in New York, when he’d have to deal with Ichirou.

He wanted to face his ‘lord’, the man who’d sent Stuart to his death, and be done with that confrontation.

By Saturday he was tired and a bit sore from all the practice, and spent most of the flight sleeping. He sent texts to Andrew and Jean as soon as they landed, eager for a couple of hours in the company of his boyfriend and best friend before Bren had to take him to some private party where Ichirou expected him to translate for several hours.

Andrew was waiting for him in the hallway once he and Bren stepped out of the elevator, leaning against the door to his apartment with his hands shoved into the front pockets of his black jeans. Neil smiled at the sight of him, something warm spreading through his chest at the thought of Andrew being that eager to for him to arrive, while Bren huffed before reminding Neil to be ready by 4pm.

“Hey,” Neil called out as he held up his bag. “Let me just drop this off and say ‘hi’ to Jean, okay?” He fought the urge to lean against his boyfriend right then, to slump against Andrew’s solid presence and finally relax after a long week. Just a few more minutes, he reminded himself, a little longer until they were alone and away from any potentially prying eyes.

Andrew nodded once and fell in step beside him, his gaze intent on Neil as if checking for any signs of distress or damage. Neil fought not to roll his eyes or shake his head, aware that Andrew had good reason to be so vigilant after the previous week but still annoyed. “No new dings or dents,” he drawled as they approached the apartment he ‘shared’ with Jean.”

“Too bad, I was hoping to trade you in on a newer model who isn’t a mouthy little shit,” Andrew shot back.

“Guess you’re stuck with me,” Neil said with a teasing grin.

“Such is life.” Andrew didn’t appear too disappointed.

Neil had his keys out to unlock the door but didn’t get a chance; as soon as he extended his hand, the door swung open to reveal a scowling Jean. “No,” Jean stated in a stern manner as his right hand latched on to Neil’s shoulder while his left hand was shoved into Andrew’s face; Neil’s boyfriend came to an abrupt halt and fumbled for his knives while Neil was hauled into the apartment. “You’ll see him later, for now he’s mine,” Jean shouted as the door was slammed in a stunned Andrew’s face.

“Uhm, okay?” Neil murmured as he dropped his bag onto the floor and shook off Jean’s hand. “That’s… okay?”

Jean grew flustered while Andrew banged on the door twice and shouted at Neil to stab the French bastard if he grew too handsy (luckily in German) before seemingly leaving. “ _I haven’t seen you in a couple of weeks and wanted to make sure that you’re all right_ ,” Jean explained as he brushed back the thick hair falling onto his forehead. “ _Before the gargoyle absconds with you_.”

Neil couldn’t help but smile as he held out his arms to embrace his dear friend. “ _Has Jeremy been making you watch romance films again_?”

The question provoked a weary sigh from Jean even as he hugged Neil close. “ _Why do I bother with a British devil like you?_ ”

“ _Hmm, because you’re well and truly cursed_ ,” Neil answered, and groaned when the air was all but squeezed from his body. “Bah-stahd.”

There was a slight yet lovely smile on Jean’s handsome face when he let go and stepped back. “ _Devils must be put in their places from time to time. Now come, tell me what’s going on with you_.” Jean led him to the living room, where a cup of tea was waiting, along with coffee.

As much as Neil had looked forward to spending some time with Andrew, he was happy to sit tucked against Jean’s side as they mourned Stuart together, then talked about him ‘seeing’ Betsy Dobson for therapy. On the whole, Jean supported that decision, especially in light of his black-outs and everything that had happened to him (his father, the Moriyamas, just… _everything_ ), but understood Neil’s reservations about putting the woman in danger and doubts over being ‘fixed’ at all.

“ _Jeremy is encouraging me to see someone as well_ ,” Jean admitted. “ _That it would be best to talk to someone impartial about what was done to me and work on my ‘trust’ issues_.” He rolled his eyes a little but Neil could tell that his friend wasn’t entirely against the idea.

Jean didn’t black out like Neil did, didn’t ‘disassociate’ (as Andrew called it), but he had very thick walls around him which he let few people behind, defenses which made him appear cold and emotionless when he was anything but that way.

The problem was finding a therapist he could trust, so Neil promised his friend that he’d talk to Betsy to get a list of recommendations, someone in the city since Jean would prefer dealing with a person he could see face to face.

After that they talked about Exy, about the Barons and the Ravens and their boyfriends, something that helped to put Neil in a good mood until he had to prepare for the evening with Ichirou. When he’d cleaned up and dressed in a pair of dark grey slacks with a light blue button-down dress shirt, Jean gave him a careful hug before he left with Bren.

“Jamie will be there,” Bren assured him when they were in the SUV. “And I’ll be right next to you the entire time.”

“How are things between the two of them… well, you know,” Neil asked as he fidgeted with the strap of his seatbelt.

“Davis tells me that she’d gladly shoot the bastard in a heartbeat, as would he, but he’s being properly respectful and everyone’s honoring the family’s obligation to him.” Bren’s large hands clenched around the steering wheel for a couple of seconds before he forced himself to let out a slow breath. “We knew going in that it wouldn’t be perfect or easy, and you don’t expect a long life with this type of job.”

Still, the Hatfords had proven loyal to Ichirou, was it wrong of them to expect the same of their ‘lord’? Neil didn’t say anything as he ran his fingers over the medallion hanging heavy around his neck and stared out the passenger window while Bren drove him to the one Chinese restaurant where he’d spent several evenings in the past year.

It appeared that he was there to facilitate yet another meeting between Ichirou and some criminal organizations on the West Coast and across the Pacific, which meant that he would spend the evening translating back and forth between English, Japanese, Russian and Chinese. Ichirou greeted him with a muted smile, and when he ran his hand along Neil’s left shoulder, Neil was quick to step back.

That made Ichirou’s dark gold eyes narrow, but there wasn’t much that could be said at the moment, especially when Jamie and Bren flanked on either side, when there were witnesses all around. Every time during the next few hours that Ichirou attempted to touch Neil in some subtle manner, he would step aside or flinch away, his expression the same polite mask he’d worn since arriving and voice inflectionless as he continued translating without pause, but he knew that Ichirou took note each time it happened.

As did Jamie, Bren and Davis (who appeared to have been assigned to Jamie now that Stuart was gone).

Ichirou waited until all of the ‘guests’ had left to step in front of Neil, who had been sipping a glass of flavored water to soothe his sore throat. “ _Nathaniel, you appear to be doing better_ ,” he said in Japanese.

“ _Thank you, Lord Moriyama_ ,” Neil replied as he set the glass aside and bowed low in a respectful manner. “ _Is there anything else you need from me_?”

“Nathaniel….” It was rare to see Ichirou appear so hesitant, so uncertain of what to say, but any sympathy he ever had for the man had vanished upon hearing about his uncle. “ _Is something wrong_?” Ichirou asked as he reached for Neil, who once again flinched at the thought of being touched by the person who had ordered Stuart’s death.

Neil had always held respect for Ichirou for honoring his word, for protecting Jean and the girls, for not being the sadists that his uncle and brother had been. The Moriyama lord hadn’t been perfect, he’d never been blinded to that fact (even if Andrew had his doubts), and he was well aware that it wasn’t right to sell oneself to another person to be the basis for a relationship.

Yet Ichirou hadn’t ever really hurt him (that one time aside), hadn’t carved new scars on him or broken bones or done to him what so many others had, had been a lesser evil in his life in so many ways.

Ichirou hadn’t truly hurt him until ordering Stuart into a situation where he or another Hatford employee had no chance of surviving, most likely well aware that Neil’s uncle wouldn’t send a substitute to their death in his place.

“ _What would be wrong, Lord Moriyama_ ,” he answered in that monotone voice. “ _Have I failed you in some manner? Failed an order_?”

That made Ichirou frown. “ _Why are you acting like this_?”

“ _I am only being a good asset, Lord Moriyama_.”

He thought that Ichirou realized right then that there was no going back to the days when Neil had sat on his lap and done his best to tease his ‘lord’, to make Ichirou smile and laugh (because a happy Ichirou meant less stress for Neil), that there wasn’t anymore ‘Ichirou’ but only ‘Lord Moriyama’ from that point on.

Grief washed over the man’s face as he tried once more to touch Neil, to caress or cup his face, only for Neil to give a slight shake of his head and step back. “ _Is there something you require, Lord Moriyama_?”

“Nathaniel.” The name came out as a harsh whisper. “ _I am… I am sorry for your uncle’s death, I truly am_ ,” Ichirou told him. “ _I didn’t mean to hurt you_.”

He hadn’t thought it would hurt Neil so much, most likely. “ _My uncle was very important to me_ ,” Neil confessed while Jamie shuffled closer to him, a cold expression on her face as she gazed at Ichirou. “ _But us Hatfords know the meaning of duty and loyalty. I know my place at your side, **Lord Moriyama** , and am to repay the debt to your family as a valuable **employee**_.” He wouldn’t give Ichirou any reason to doubt him, not when so many others could be used against him, but he wanted it made clear that all he’d ever be was an asset to make the Moriyamas wealthy.

There was a flash of anger on Ichirou’s face as his extended hand clenched into a fist, which made Bren step forward, then Ichirou drew a breath as he shook his head. “ _You are indeed valuable, Nathaniel, valuable and valued. I hope that one day I can regain the esteem that one misstep has cost me_.” Then he gave Neil a slight bow as he stepped away. “Take him… take him home,” he ordered Bren. “I believe he has someone waiting for him.” The words were spoken as if they left a bitter taste in his mouth.

The three of them watched Ichirou until he was gone, then Jamie let out a faint chuckle. “Was that wise, whatever you did? Seems to me you’re safest when he’s happier with you.”

“Stuart’s dead because of him,” Neil reminded his cousin. “Directly or not. If Ichirou wants me gone as well, I’d rather it happens sooner or later.” He wouldn’t be the man’s plaything to live a little longer.

(He refused to think about Andrew and Jean and Marley and the Hatfords just then, about all the ways Ichirou could bring him back to heel.)

Jamie gave him a proud grin while Bren patted him on the back. “Let’s get you out of here,” she said as she wrapped an arm around his shoulder. “Orders are orders, right?”

Neil wasn’t going to complain about leaving the place and returning to Andrew.

His boyfriend wasn’t waiting in the hallway that time, but opened the door after one knock. “Jean’s not about to kidnap you again?”

“I think he got it out of his system for the time being,” Neil admitted as he entered Andrew’s apartment. “That and he’s probably skyping with Jeremy now.”

Andrew’s nose wrinkled the slightest bit at that as he tugged Neil further into the living room before he locked the door and set the alarm for the night, then looked him up and down. “How did it go?”

“Not too bad, all in all.” Neil refused to dwell on what he’d translated that night, compartmentalizing his ‘work’ as always, while Andrew went to pour him a small amount of whisky (and more for himself). “I think Ichirou realizes that things have changed for good between us,” he confessed as he removed the medallion and shoved it into the pocket of the pants before he accepted the glass.

“Really? He’s merely responsible for the death of your uncle, yet you’re supposed to be all smiles and let him continue to maul you as always? To-“

“Andrew.” Neil gave him a weary look before he tossed back the whisky. “I don’t want to argue about it tonight.” Or ever, really; he already knew his lover’s thoughts on his ‘relationship’ with Ichirou, and it wouldn’t change the past, wouldn’t change the future if things ever got bad enough that there was no choice between saving Andrew and the last scraps of Neil’s free will.

He’d honor his promise to talk to Andrew about any new deals, but that wouldn’t keep him from making it.

Still, he pushed such dark thoughts from his mind because at the moment, he was safe and with his boyfriend, and had done everything he could to protect those who mattered to him. He smiled as Andrew finished his own drink and set both of their glasses aside.

“You’re thinking too much,” Andrew chided him. “Stop it.”

“You always tell me that I don’t think enough,” Neil pointed out. “I thought you’d approve.”

“You never think enough, which means that whatever’s going on in your bird-brain right now is going to be a huge disaster and cause me too much work to fix,” Andrew argued. “So stop it and come to bed.” He held out his right hand as if to lead Neil to the bedroom.

“It’s not that late, are we going to sleep?” Neil asked with a teasing smile.

“Depends, yes or no?” Andrew asked the question in a flat manner as if he didn’t care, but Neil caught the heat of desire in his hazel eyes.

“Yes,” Neil answered without hesitation as he accepted Andrew’s hand.

*******

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *******  
> Poor Stuart, he really tried to be there for Neil. And I'm sure there's pitchforks out for me now (I remember the Armies Bee aftermath), but honestly, it wasn't done on a whim! And Nora killed him off first!
> 
> Ahem. He didn't die in vain (I never kill characters off in vain) and he's still alive in all the other storylines!!!
> 
> Edit - Okay, so some people are understandably very upset about Stuart. Here's some more indepth thoughts on why I did what I did. If you've read Nora's followup notes/comments/answers/whatever you want to call them after she wrapped up the series, there's a question on the boys tying each other up. And Nora says that there's a time when Neil gets tied up when Stuart is killed, a couple of years later when Neil is in college - Ichirou feels that it's time for there to be a younger, more ambitious successor, and of course Neil takes it hard because Stuart's basically the only family he has. Andrew ties him up and does what he can to to distract him/center him/you know.
> 
> Now this fic is canon divergence/somewhat AU, and I did a good bit of plotting before I sat down to write it, and I was hesitant to write it because I knew it would be dark. There would be Neil in the Nest, and going by what Nora said about the Nest and Jean, how Riko broke Jean, I couldn't see defiant Neil getting away with just some scars and smacking around, etc. I also knew Ichirou would be involved and that would be a darkness of its own. Then there was the whole 'what to do with Ichirou' question.
> 
> The precedent was there that Ichirou kills/is involved with Stuart's death. I needed to do something to drive a permanent wedge between Ichirou and Neil. Because to be honest? To me, Neil has a grey area when it comes to people doing things that benefit him and allowing them to harm him - look at all those years with his mother. We're not just talking martyr complex (him going to Edgar Allan for Andrew, him going with his father's men to protect the Foxes, him not telling anyone about the countdown on his phone, etc.), but something bordering on Stockholm Syndrome. Ichirou kept up his end of the bargain, and despite the incident with Bren, despite Andrew and everything, as long as Ichirou kept up the bargain, Neil wouldn't lash out at Ichirou despite the damage he took. 
> 
> As for Ichirou? Neil's special. Neil's a spot of light in a world of violence and obligation and everything laid out for him (stepping into his father's place, an arranged marriage, etc.). Yes, he got Neil through a debt and a deal, but Neil did unexpected things and made him smile and only asked for protection of the people he cared for, nothing else. And Ichirou definitely took for granted that he'd have Neil forever, that he could do what he wanted with Neil. That Andrew was a 'temporary' set-back (hence why Stuart did what he did).
> 
> Ichirou was annoyed with Stuart, with his 'meddling', but he also wanted someone younger, someone not so set in their ways as his new 'muscle'. He didn't think Neil would care as long as that person was still a Hatford - that and Neil has always gone along with everything. Now he realizes too late that he's wrong, and to be 'fair', he knows that pushing will just make it worse. As Stuart said, in his own way, Ichirou cares for Neil. Ichirou is also a young man who's been raised to run a criminal empire, so he regrets more that he messed up than he does Stuart's death.
> 
> As this is getting long and running out of words - Stuart died because I didn't see why Ichirou wouldn't kill him (he didn't change that much) in this AU, and Stuart's death served as a necessary means to sever Neil from Ichirou. It wasn't taken lightly and I did debate it, but that's why. It wasn't just done for dramatic effect.
> 
> And before anyone starts going on about ANOTHER cliffhanger, no, it's not, really, there at the end - Neil's thoughts. Like I said, Stuart's death was done for a reason, and a lot of it was to help settle things with Ichirou. But Neil is Neil, he's always going to think of others when he should be worried more about himself.
> 
> Think that's it? Ask if anything else isn't clear. I'm not a psychologist/psychiatrist, so apologies if I took too many liberties in this chapter.
> 
> And the big bang fic got posted! It's "Qui N’avance Pas, Recule" and Jeandreil (well, sort of, it's definitely Jean/Neil and some Andreil and works toward the Jeandreil) and I'd link to it but there's a little non-con at the start (nothing too graphic and very short) and I know that's not everyone's pairings so.... There's a lot of amazing fics posted for the event so far.
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are appreciated! There's definitely only one or two chapters left at this point - I may try to just get one HUGE chapter out to wrap things up, we'll see....  
> ********

**Author's Note:**

> *******  
> All right, the one Andrew scene - he's being a little harsh on poor Kenny in it, but this is pre-Neil Andrew, still on his drugs, and yes, he can a bit of an asshole. Kenny is rough around the edges but he's not meant to be the anti-Neil or anything.
> 
> I think I'd like to get another chapter of this (Raven's Partner) up and then start switching out Heartlines. And of course getting some Dragon!Andrew and other shorter fics in as well (it took a little longer to get this chapter prepped than I had hoped so nothing done so far this week). 
> 
> (thanks for the Exy or Death chat forum for some help with Neil and Jean's insults)
> 
> I think that's it? 
> 
> As always, thanks for any comments or kudos!  
> *******


End file.
